I really am. All the damn time. And glasses, cutlery, plates, clothes, food, drinks, bref, various household objects and materials. Yes, I really am that inattentive. But hey, a cat is forgiven for anything it does, it's a royal prerogative humans respected for millennia.
A few days later...
My latest exploit was knocking over a lamp. A very nice, plum-coloured lamp. I regreted it for a moment there. It doesn't work anymore and I'll soon exile it to the garbage can. I should hurry because I'm actually keeping it hidden from my boss, to whom it belonged. This is how I came to use a little light one can attach to one's forhead, thus recreating the famous image of the light bulb going on. Now if I'd actually do smth with it...
At times, quite often in fact, when I'm listening to really nice music, I've got this craving, this restlessness in my heart or in the prideful part of my mind, to do smth with my hands, maybe a picture, maybe some words. It doesn't usually works, as I am regularly doing smth else or am too caught up in reading. Except now. Well, that ends it, I'm going back to reading. See ya in a few, I think I'll finish and post this tonight.
About the picture - it's with a really cool hat one cannot see in the photo. I have some other shoots with me in them, but I don't like the way my nose stands up in them. Metaphorically, it's not actually too up-turned. Anyhoo, this reminds me of a show I caught some glimpses of today on a French television channel, about aesthetical surgery. There was this little girl of fifteen that hated her chin and wanted it modified. Apparently this type of surgery is very popular with girls from 15 or 16 to 24. Beyond the fake aspect such things suppose, how can one imagine it in relation to children, how did children came to this. I'm on a rethorical strike here, don't bother to answer. I'm just flabbergasted. And so old.
And now for the argumentative part - medically speaking, bones aren't even ready for this kind of intervention before the age of 18 or so. The speakers kept rambling about self-image and its improvement, about confidence and such. Is the easy way out really a source of self-confidence or rather a temporary solution for a deeper lack of satisfaction? Control and the way to take it had been mentioned and this is perhaps a better angle from which one can see things. The train of thought goes thus perhaps - I'm taking control of my body, therefore of my life. Only one doesn't consider then external actions and reactions, accidents or purposeful incidences that shape one. Control is hardly attainable.
As for the way I see it for myself, I wouldn't modify my body beyond its natural capacity (that is, diet, gymnastics, empirical products of as biological an origin as possible). The innate data shaped me as well and keep on doing it, and I can't see it as fair that it should get modified just for the sake of an image I'd give to the world. Where would I be then, in a body that wouldn't be mine afterwards? How could I lie and pretend this is me?
Hm, I am rambling as well. Maybe this isn't really my cup of tea.
The Chat graciously laps at some spilt coffee, and watches the cup go round and round. He is also living on borrowed time, without a thought for tomorrow, and when in doubt, it bonks it.
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