Down In The Park
Clop. I think it's been a week or so since my last entry; evidently I had some sordid variant of horse-flu and spent a great deal of that time in the infirmary. As a stable horse I do alot of standing around in one place, don't get me wrong. But when a show animal is sick, you have amounts of unadulterated downtime that surpass normal levels with a bullet. So, as per the norm, I got to do alot of thinking. Clop cloppity. I keep thinking about the Gloria Record (I know, I know) and how they always sing about one form or another of wasting your life on things you're trained to believe matter but end up being inconsequential in the end. I think if there ever was a corporeal manifestation of this idea it has to be me. But there's not exactly much I can do. Run away and fend for myself? All I've ever known is here, all of my friends (however non-sentient they may be) are all here, Karen is here, my home is here. But sometimes I feel so unchallenged, you know? Cloppity? Not challenge as in a new hobby to conquer.... I'm evolved for the fight to survive, and now that humanity has taken natural selection out of the loop it's like a million years of design are now being wasted as I sit confined within the structure of my existence. I think "alas" has always just been a poetic sigh, so I think it's pertinent here: but alas.... clop......