That's my cat. She's like 14 or something. That's pretty old for a cat. But recently I've been trying to imagine what it's going to be like when my cat dies. I don't have a very good memory of my past, primary school is mainly a blur, as is pretty much all of my early childhood and, really, my first 3 years of high school, so there isn't really a time in my life when I can't remember my cat, Fuzzy, being around. It's going to be pretty sad and different when she dies. I'm not going to see her every morning run out of the way of the car, hear her late-night fights with that seedy ginger cat, feel her soft fur while she's munching away while simultaneously purring each night. I kinda don't want her to die.
But that leads me to pontificate on things we take for granted. Whether it's things like my cat that we expect to be there each and every day, even though I don't take special notice of her. Or maybe it's those people that when you catch the late train by yourself that you sometimes see and feel like you have a connection with them, even if they've never noticed you're there. I like those people.
On my late train, the people I love to see are:
- The Asian woman who's mouth looks like a shark's mouth.
- The fully sick businessman who always chews gum.
- The scene chick who gives me weird looks.
- The gnarly dude who listens to mix-tapes (ie. tape decks).
- The super-hot Eurasian chick who's extremely short.
- PJ Harvey girl: The über-babe who I'd like to be friends with because she kinda looks like PJ Harvey.
"This kid's a stalker who was looking at my iPod, WTF."
When all I'd like to do is tell her she looked really cool.
Wow...I love dream worlds...
Elliott Smith - Son of Sam
