The thing about posting on the internets

Music: Father and Son – Cat Stevens

The song is fitting. The Kyaa still exists. My little glass box has become a little grey set of cubes which I lord over like the cat I am.

Things haven’t changed that much since I posted a real entry here. I am still alone. Sometimes I am sad. Sometimes I am happy. Life is a funny thing.

How can I explain? When I do he turns away again? It has always been the same, same old story.

My relationship with my family has gotten better in the decade since I last let myself show in here. My dad called me one night, late, like this time of night. He was crying. He’d watched some sappy war movie which featured a father and son, seperated by war or time or some shit. He cried out to me, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry… can you forgive me?” Of course, how could I not? Our relationship was never good, but he’s my Dad. How can I push him away?

My mom continues to be an angel. I mean seriously, she takes care of dying people in a hospice. How much closer to heaven can you get?

My brother and his wife, how strange that sounds, have three lovely children and live in the middle of fucking nowhere. We’re buddies. They play games with me when I visit. My visits are too few and too short. Maybe I can change that?

I don’t really know any more. I sometimes feel like I’ve gotten old over the years. Everything is so much the same but so much harder now.

To be the cat I once was, gazing from my little glass box at the people walking to and fro below me. To grasp at magic… to drink deeply of life once again.

Maybe I can sing cat songs here again.


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