Thought exercise
I live with a human.
He usually calls me his "pet", but also jokes with others that "I'm really his pet", so I don't really know what kind of relationship we have. All I know is, he dispenses food for me, and in return I just have to be quiet and hide in the closet when someone he calls "the landlord" appears. In the early years he seemed to truly enjoy watching me toy with mice, but he must have grown out of this. Those particular playthings haven't been around for a long time, but he doesn't seem bothered about it.
I don't see much of him anymore. Not long after the sun comes up he dresses all in black and leaves, and doesn't return until the sun is going down. While he's here, he mostly just stares into lights. He gets home, the large box in front of my favorite resting spot starts emitting light and sound, and he just sits in front of it for hours. He has a similar, but smaller box on his desk as well. This one never turns off. He'll sit in front of that one for hours too. Every so often he emits a chuckle, but for the most part he simply stares into space. I think he'd just stay like that and forget to eat if I didn't distract him every so often. Not that he ever appreciates me saving his life. No, it's all, "No, you're not allowed up here", or "Hey, I can't see!" or some other comment. Maybe humans are like plants, that they need to be out in light to get their energy? It certainly seems to make sense, since he sleeps only when all the lights are out. Does he turn out the lights to sleep, or does he sleep because the lights are out? I ponder this while he's gone, but I always end up falling asleep. It's not a terribly interesting topic.
Tonight he's sitting at his desk. Sometimes his fingers dart over the keyboard, but today he's just moving his mouse a lot. "You're right," he talks to the box on his desk. "You're absolutely right."
I dread that he's not going to tell me all about what he is agreeing with and leave me to wonder what has gotten into him this time until my curiosity gives me a headache. Then I dread that he is going to tell me all about it.
The latter of my fears comes true. "This man," he says, pointing at the screen. "He says that once we get out of school, we don't give ourselves enough time to play. We go to work, living just to survive, and forget about all the things we loved. Doesn't that sound like me, Buddha?"
He says that name a lot. I think he's referring to me when he says it, since when he does say it he's always staring directly at me. I never really understood why humans have to name things. If it were to tell things apart, well, it's because they look different, feel different, smell different. It's not a difficult skill to master. And if you want to get someone's attention, there's an inherent beauty and simplicity in second-person pronouns. But I digress. Back to the human's rant.
"I mean... I work in an office. And yeah it pays the bills, but is this really what I wanted to do with my life? Figure out when to clock out so I'd make an extra eighty cents I didn't earn? Hell no!"
He's getting heated again. The last time he did this was also the last time that female human appeared. He spent a lot more time in front of those boxes after that.
"When was the last time I read anything? I used to love to read. I still have that book that I read instead of going to commencement that I STILL haven't finished. Isn't that weird? Has my life really gotten that empty? This man... he's got it right. 'The mass of men lead lives in quiet desperation'... It was Thoreau that said that. And it's true. I don't spend enough time playing. Having fun."
He shakes his head and strides across the room. He grabs his coat and looks at me from the door. "Well, I've had enough of it. I'm going out, Buddha. I'll be back in time to feed you, so don't worry."
The door opens. The door closes. The room glows a very faint orange. The sun is already most of the way down. I put my head back down on the floor. Honestly, where do humans get all that energy? Maybe they aren't like plants after all.
He usually calls me his "pet", but also jokes with others that "I'm really his pet", so I don't really know what kind of relationship we have. All I know is, he dispenses food for me, and in return I just have to be quiet and hide in the closet when someone he calls "the landlord" appears. In the early years he seemed to truly enjoy watching me toy with mice, but he must have grown out of this. Those particular playthings haven't been around for a long time, but he doesn't seem bothered about it.
I don't see much of him anymore. Not long after the sun comes up he dresses all in black and leaves, and doesn't return until the sun is going down. While he's here, he mostly just stares into lights. He gets home, the large box in front of my favorite resting spot starts emitting light and sound, and he just sits in front of it for hours. He has a similar, but smaller box on his desk as well. This one never turns off. He'll sit in front of that one for hours too. Every so often he emits a chuckle, but for the most part he simply stares into space. I think he'd just stay like that and forget to eat if I didn't distract him every so often. Not that he ever appreciates me saving his life. No, it's all, "No, you're not allowed up here", or "Hey, I can't see!" or some other comment. Maybe humans are like plants, that they need to be out in light to get their energy? It certainly seems to make sense, since he sleeps only when all the lights are out. Does he turn out the lights to sleep, or does he sleep because the lights are out? I ponder this while he's gone, but I always end up falling asleep. It's not a terribly interesting topic.
Tonight he's sitting at his desk. Sometimes his fingers dart over the keyboard, but today he's just moving his mouse a lot. "You're right," he talks to the box on his desk. "You're absolutely right."
I dread that he's not going to tell me all about what he is agreeing with and leave me to wonder what has gotten into him this time until my curiosity gives me a headache. Then I dread that he is going to tell me all about it.
The latter of my fears comes true. "This man," he says, pointing at the screen. "He says that once we get out of school, we don't give ourselves enough time to play. We go to work, living just to survive, and forget about all the things we loved. Doesn't that sound like me, Buddha?"
He says that name a lot. I think he's referring to me when he says it, since when he does say it he's always staring directly at me. I never really understood why humans have to name things. If it were to tell things apart, well, it's because they look different, feel different, smell different. It's not a difficult skill to master. And if you want to get someone's attention, there's an inherent beauty and simplicity in second-person pronouns. But I digress. Back to the human's rant.
"I mean... I work in an office. And yeah it pays the bills, but is this really what I wanted to do with my life? Figure out when to clock out so I'd make an extra eighty cents I didn't earn? Hell no!"
He's getting heated again. The last time he did this was also the last time that female human appeared. He spent a lot more time in front of those boxes after that.
"When was the last time I read anything? I used to love to read. I still have that book that I read instead of going to commencement that I STILL haven't finished. Isn't that weird? Has my life really gotten that empty? This man... he's got it right. 'The mass of men lead lives in quiet desperation'... It was Thoreau that said that. And it's true. I don't spend enough time playing. Having fun."
He shakes his head and strides across the room. He grabs his coat and looks at me from the door. "Well, I've had enough of it. I'm going out, Buddha. I'll be back in time to feed you, so don't worry."
The door opens. The door closes. The room glows a very faint orange. The sun is already most of the way down. I put my head back down on the floor. Honestly, where do humans get all that energy? Maybe they aren't like plants after all.