I went outside the other night before getting ready to go to bed.  It was not bitter cold out, but rather sharp.  So I was taking my time smoking, looking at the stars, and mulling the day over in my head, when I saw a bit of movement out of the corner of my eye.  I first saw the cat.  The black one of the neighbors with the white chest and socks.  It was having an interest in a rabbit who was sitting completely still.  I watched for a time, then suddenly saw the cat creep close to it.

  For a moment, it confused me why the rabbit was not running away.  The cat pounced and swatted it, causing the rabbit to thrash about.  The cat jumped away and I noticed something was wrong with the bunny.  Just a few days before I had seen it chasing around with another rabbit in the front yard playing.  Now it's ear was twitching kind of strangely, and had still not fled.  The cat had wounded it, and was toying with the poor creature.  The way it had flopped about a moment ago seemed seriously wrong and disturbed me.

  Here's where I am, apparently, nuts.  I quieted my mind, and let it stretch out as if it were the wind.  I tried to feel the cat, the rabbit, the space between them.  To send the picture of pounce, kill, and feed.  I sent the picture that if the cat did not want it, something larger would come along (me) and take this prize for its own.  The cat watched the rabbit with mixed interest, creeping up, then getting distracted and looking about, or smelling the fence.

  I finally became fed up, summoned my courage to do the job, fetched my gloves from my pocket and went over to the rabbit.  This cat is brave to a fault and watched me do the entire act.  I poked the pitiful scared thing with my toe.  It only sat there breathing quick with its head tilted strangely and its ear twitching up and down.  I pushed harder with my toe into its hind flank twice more and it began to thrash.  Terror leapt into the air as its legs and body flailed about, off the lawn, onto the sidewalk and into the street; making a sick thumping sound until the fit subsided.

  The rabbit then layed there and, as I could no longer tolerate it's suffering, took hold of its back feet with one hand while running the other up to its neck, pulled the warm body taught, then twisted and snapped just under the head.

  I felt grief for the creature while tossing it in the outside garbage bin.  So I pulled it back out, set it on the ground in the grass, plucked some up and set it by it's mouth.  I then sat down, prayed my sorrow for it's pain and my thanks for life, and shivered uncontrollably.  The world has reminded me that torment is just around the corner.  I've felt helpless like that before; thrashing about, wanting to be finished.

  Any who read this- breathe, and feel your life.

   Well, the play went off without too many hitches.  I did well with my rendition of the very elligable pig-farming bachelor, 'Wilbert'.  Did three showing for the months of work we put into it and every laugh was worth it.  Acting continues to suprize me each time I get a chance on stage.  It also proves how much of a ham I am, so this part was perfect. 

   Time for a bit of a break, though I don't think I'll take it.  I can hit a few more meetings with the free time.  Also going to join the new local SCA chapter.  You know what that is?  Dress up in armor, take a blunt sword, and try to beat up your buddies.  Physical art-- be it; acting, dancing, freestyle walking, sword play, yoga or pilates --has been calling to me.  I have to follow, as my body has gone stiff from the inactivity that progressed from experimental recreational relaxation.  I crave movement once again.

   A revolution seems to be starting amongst people my age.  Many of us in our mid twenties are recovering from conditions that were leading toward jails, institutions, and death.  Where does the butt-end of gen-x/ nav's of gen-y go from here?  Once again I get the feeling there is more about us than first appears. . . and thank God, I was starting to get bored.

P.S. Five month mark- today.  But tomorrow's a new day.

P.P.S.  Next blog I'll tell you about the act of mercy I committed last night that ended in the snapping of cervical nerves.

   I went to the punk-rock show last night.  Had a blast and worked out alot of aggression.  I'm bruised up and sore all over.  Not often do we get something like this in our small town, and it was nice to see my friends still playing their music.  So glad they came to town and played for us.  Let it be known that at least one librarian isn't afraid of a pit full of flying elbows, shoulders and boots.  It's important I don't forget my youth, to dish it out and take a beating for the release that's in the show.  For a couple of hours, I was once again free in a melee of noise and emotion.  So... 'preciate it- 'Loveletters and Gravestones', the other two bands as well, I haven't had fun like that for a long time.

Btw; I'm 4 months and 22 days straight-edge

...and stickin' to my guns staying that way.

   So the mythic hero started with an action.  He laced up his boots.

  He laced up his boots, and grabbed his stick,

  The door of his hut slammed shut.

  Step...step...step...

  He said 'bye-di-bye!' to the widdershins spiral

  And set off to find 'the good red road'.

  The world was to be looked upon with a refreshed gaze,

  Step...step...step...

  Upon sunrise, he said please to the skies.

  Midday, a pause and quieting of the mind.

  After sunset, he said thank-you to the day he had met.

  Step...step...step...

  Eternal journey and seek, should one choose it or not.

  Upon green fields, or a coal chaulked tunnel,

  He not being born, is busy dying.

It's a black and white text-crisp night as a few scattered dream-monsters approach.  A lonely muppet shivers under the park bridge.  Somewhere a musical is starting between a labrador, an emu and a DAT recorder.

---Just press play--- the symphony of war all about us is like a lover who is mechanical in bed.  She won't let me go, for fear of lack I keep coming back.  We know the steps and the speeches.  We know the postures and the gestures.  Auto-reverse and were at the start doing it over again.  Back in an oily, gritty bed.

Trees grow, slowly exploding from the ground around me.  I am safe downtown when I have my coffee cup with me.  Still a song and a video play in my head.  The boy playing on his skateboard in an abandoned trashed trailer house.  ...I feel fine...

Long ago, the tribes told Him, 'Give us a King.'

He replied, 'but don't you have Me?'

...The scientist narrowed his eyes.  'These populations will not stabilize without a resource scramble.  When that is finished, you will observe that many of them have pecked each others eyes out.' 

Patterns form and repeat and yet the bohemian still insists to live for love and art.  A skinny boy, chasing Amy.

He mumbles stuff about every hero crawling through a dark hole, to a land that is familiar, but he knows not at all until he sleeps.

Sweet Dreams