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Blogroll Me!
There are people on the net that have nothing better to do
with their time
then be nasty to other people online. They post rude comments, spend hours
a day talking about sites they hate so much, that they well, spend hours a
day talking about them. (lame) They mock the owners and posters for their
opinions and their right to free speech. They expect everyone to fit into
their narrow-minded little world view or else they throw a temper tantrum.
To these people I say grow up.
Here's a bit of info people...the web is
a HUGE place. If you don't like what I say here, or who I am, or what I
do, or talk about, or what I look like, or the color of my hair, or
whatever asinine thing you dwell on, go somewhere else. It's
really, really easy. Honest. You just click the little "x" in
the corner of your browser and *poof* the offending, big, mean and nasty
site has disappeared.
I pay for this site. It's mine. That
means I can use it for whatever the hell I want to. Don't like it if I'm
bitching about something in my life? Oh fucking well. Go somewhere else.
Think I'm stupid for expressing my thoughts? Too fucking bad, don't read
them. Somewhere along the line, someone forgot this simple fact: Live
and let live Don't like me, cool, fine, whatever, I don't care.
This journal is NOT for you. It's for me. I'm not in it for popularity or
fame or anything stupid like that. I write it because I need to write and
express myself and get things out of my head sometimes. So read or don't,
it doesn't matter, but don't waste my time (or yours) bitching about it.
*gets off soapbox*
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Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Little Orange Marmalade
As I'm walking back from checking the mail, a familier shape catches my eye. Four, fleet-footed paws dart across the lot to hide under a nearby tire. Big, yellow eyes peer out at me past the rubber, a mix of fear and desire for help. Under the car is a beautiful orange tabby - what, since I was a child, have always called an orange marmalade kitty. S/he has the most lovely markings - swirls of color and striping. But s/he is skinny. Bones skinny that tells of abandonment and hunger. I take a few steps closer to him/her and soothingly make placating noises. You can tell s/he's hungry and used to people, but has been scared and cautious since s/he's been out. Fear overrides the needs of comfort and s/he slinks away. It breaks my heart. How we as a society and people treat cats. How we allow them to be "disposable" and "throwaway" pets. How so many can be so scornful to these forgotten creatures and how so many don't seem to care that they not only are living beings, but they have feelings and needs just like we do. They don't deserve the treatment they get from us. It's entirely our fault that there are so many unwanted and abandoned cats. People failing to get their cats fixed, or failing to keep their cats indoors; people failing to accept the true responsibility of adopting an animal and people failing to respect the lives of these creatures. They don't fail us. We fail them. I got some dry food and went back downstairs. I called for the kitty, but couldn't find him/her. I put down the bowl of food near where s/he was and can only hope one of the many strays around my building - possibly the orange marmalade him-/herself will find it. As I came back inside, one of my own little stray rescues, Gracie peeped at me. And I think about how it doesn't seem like enough. I don't fail my cats, but I'm only one person. And so many of us do fail them. And it just breaks my heart.
~ flowers bloom by Memory and Dream
at 4/20/2005 08:22:00 PM ~
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