fears and wants
I dreamt that, when I asked Spacecat if maybe this whole time she could speak English and just never said anything, I tacitly gave her soul permission to come out. Her soul was a Mexican man in his thirties with a thick accent. We talked, extremely awkwardly, about my treatment of him/her. He told me he didn't like the cheap dried Iams food I've been feeding him because I'm out of the good stuff and can't afford more, and that he wanted more toys to play with. We discussed that she(/he) is hard to buy toys for, because she(/he) is so picky.
It made me very uncomfortable to think of my cat as speaking English -- I wondered if I had said anything embarrassing that she understood, since I have a habit of talking to my cat. Not to mention having a Mexican man inside her! So our relationship became strained, except whenever the soul came out to stretch his legs and eat out of my freezer, I instantly loved my cat more -- without her soul.
I woke up from this, a little weirded out, and prompty went back to bed, wherein I had a dream involving scrabble and sex with [REDACTED]. It was a much better dream.
Oh, and I woke up with "Everything that keeps me together is falling apart / I've got this thing that I consider my only art of fucking people over" stuck in my head. "3rd Planet," Modest Mouse. I don't know when the last time I heard that was.
And now, I rush to work, ignoring my subconscious cries about cat anxiety and passing fancies.
It made me very uncomfortable to think of my cat as speaking English -- I wondered if I had said anything embarrassing that she understood, since I have a habit of talking to my cat. Not to mention having a Mexican man inside her! So our relationship became strained, except whenever the soul came out to stretch his legs and eat out of my freezer, I instantly loved my cat more -- without her soul.
I woke up from this, a little weirded out, and prompty went back to bed, wherein I had a dream involving scrabble and sex with [REDACTED]. It was a much better dream.
Oh, and I woke up with "Everything that keeps me together is falling apart / I've got this thing that I consider my only art of fucking people over" stuck in my head. "3rd Planet," Modest Mouse. I don't know when the last time I heard that was.
And now, I rush to work, ignoring my subconscious cries about cat anxiety and passing fancies.