BLACK ANIMALS.

Are you feeling uncomfortable? Let's hear my joke aka my life.

Last Thursday night, after hanging out with our designer and manager, I came home and found the worst nightmare ever happened in this family's history. Hedi, my cat, shit all over my blanket. LITERALLY SHIT ALL OVER IT. It was bad. It was really bad. His stomach was ill. I could tell by the color and the smell of his shit. My whole room smelled like a kingdom of shit. I took off the blanket cover in disgust and terror. I had to detect every corner of my bed for any sight of shit with MY NOSE. Even when it was done, my room still smelled a lot like shit. My window was wide open, my fan was working hard. I thought it would be a terrible idea to turn on the air-conditioner in that situation. If any machines in my room had feelings, they'd never forgive me for that night. I was sleeping in fear. The fear of sleeping in a bed full of shit. Next day's morning was slightly covered in the same smell and I also found a shit mark on the floor near the door. 

The worst part is, I kicked Hedi twice that night. I was really angry and shocked. I felt so disgusted. I don't think that shit machine will ever know guilt. But take a look at it again, it was my fault. Hedi was ill indeed. That was on me, my responsibility. It makes me feel even worse. It's the same thing that happens over and over in my life: I fuck up and blame the world for it. Hedi is normal now and I gave him a petting earlier. I still feel I owe him an apology and a better attitude of me being his care taker. Maybe it wasn't me sleeping in the bed of shit. Maybe it was me being the shit. 

Talking of fucking up, I've been thinking of my father lately. Most of my life, I have never fully trusted him. He always fucks something up. He wasn't a good husband to my mother. He is a careless dad. It's one of the reasons for who I am today. Of course, he's taught me things. But it would take a ridiculously strong person to be his daughter and the price would not come cheap. I paid that price and at times, I wish I had a better father. Because I think I would be a happier person, I'd smile more and open up more. My life wouldn't be so closed and difficult. When my mother died, everything changed. The only person that held the warmth of the house was gone. My father never spent a minute discussing about it with me. He never made that effort. After two weeks, I broke down. Bad things take time to kick in and for me, it took two weeks, There was one time I thought I could find some of my mother's pills in her wardrobe. To do what, I wasn't sure. But I was thrown into that idea deeply. I don't think I have the guts for suicide. Does it even take guts? Killing oneself is not a brave thing. Whatever happened, I knew I had to move on and live well. Strangely though, I was thinking I really needed to have that presence of pills near my bed. 

I never found any pills. In fact, I never actually did it. For a while, whenever bad things happened, there was this thing that kept coming up in my mind: "What do you mean? My mother died!" Like "What do you mean this doesn't work / it's not good enough / I can't do this? I no longer have a mother. Isn't that bad enough?" It's silly. It is.

I also learn that bad things are blessings. Yes, I'm angry at my father. But I love him more. And the first thing everyone should do to their family is to protect them, for better or worse. In the end, he lets me do my things and doesn't get disappointed when I fail. I have learned two greatest things from my father:

1. Never stop learning. If there has to be a person nominated for biggest love of learning, I'll suggest my father.

2. Love animals. He's the start of my love for cats and the one that agreed we could have a dog. Because of A-chim, my dog, I was saved.

He taught me how to read maps. I was good at remembering capitals of countries in the the world. Overall, my memory was impressive. He encouraged my interest in astronomy, taught me how to meditate and always made me watch Discovery though I hated it sometimes. Because my father never had a childhood, he never knew any fairy tales. When I was little, he had to make up a story about a bear and two rabbits to tell me before bed. Over and over again. He had no idea about children's stories. His version was something that goes like this:

In a stormy and cold night, an old bear's house was torn down. The destruction was terrible and the bear had to get out to find a shelter. He ran to the White Rabbit's door and knocked:

- Dear White Rabbit, please let me in. I'm soaking wet.

The rabbit looked at him through the window and said:

- No no. You're so big. You'll tear my house down.

The bear looked down sadly. He ran again to the Black Rabbit's door and knocked:

- Dear Black Rabbit, please let me in. I'm soaking wet.

The Black Rabbit rushed to the door and opened it. He welcomed the bear:

- My dear, please come in. Hurry.

Inside, the bear was offered fire and food. When the storm went out, the Black Rabbit helped the bear rebuild his house. The White Rabbit saw that and felt bad. He came towards the bear and apologized for not letting him in during the storm. The bear said:

- It's ok, dear. 

They smiled at each other and together, the three of them built a house.

That's the story. The learning value of it is: always help people in need and how people look doesn't define their quality. Because at that time, I found black animals ugly.

So that's about it. Have a good night and we'll see each other again in next post.

HEDI'S INVASION.

I wish I could come up with something intellectual or inspiring at this hour, with this lightness of mind. All I can think of is how quickly my time is being shortened here and it's not even welcomed right now. I'm not surfing my keyboard like playing a piano. I'm clacking it. 

Hedi is sleeping peacefully in my bed. I'm not sure where and how to move this creature without interrupting its lightness of being. If he wakes up and doesn't see me petting, he'll give me these big, surprised eyes and consistent stare until I make it happen again. Hedi checks up the situation about every thirty minutes. This cat is very specific about getting petted. Paws being circled, belly scratched and tickled, back rubbed and the end of tail slightly touched. He's too high on cool air to realize how miserable I am half sitting half lying to sacrifice this bed.

I'm yawning already. Friend, if you're reading this fresh, what are you even doing at this hour? 

1:31 a.m

I'll chug some cold water before bed. We're on full tropical mode right now. Papaya, banana, mango, mangosteen, lychee and custard apple. These seem heavy for me. Normally I'll go with an apple or a piece of melon. Oops, Hedi checks up again. He's very much like me when I was little. If I don't obey, he'll stand up and look at me dearly with a little threat. Then collapses immediately when I start petting back. 

1:40 a.m

Alright. I'll have my water. Have a good night and don't sweat too much.

OLD. NEW. GONE.

Album cover of Her. Check out their song Five Minutes. Both the official and live.

I'm here to update you guys about everything. 

Hedi, my cat, is growing up day by day with an impressively fast pace. He now has a longer, straighter tail, sharper paws, higher jump and so much energy in catching non-sense. Miu Miu had a baby several days ago. That makes Hedi brother to a kitten of three colors. I'm not sure if we're allowed to keep the baby. I hope we can because I don't remember having any cats with that fur. Generally, I'm excited to name the kitten. 

My sister is sick and it's not good. Of course, I'm worried. I'm trying my best to stay calm and be fine about it. Times like this require nothing but stability. I can always use a little of comfort. Then again, every time I seek for it, I have to repeat the story, and it's not something I want to keep telling myself about.

I haven't talked to someone I know for a long time. Friend doesn't define our relationship. It's absurd. We're parallel universes, yet we've never met each other in real life. Perhaps that's what parallel is for. Sometimes the support is visible, sometimes the ignorance is stronger. Confusion is what I have for it. Though I don't mind this person's absence, I wonder if there were God, what would have been going on in his mind to let me know this one?

I'm starting to feel like I can use some new friends. 

HEDI AND TAYLOR SWIFT.

I played with Hedi for half an hour and now he's sleeping peacefully in my bed. Hedi is full of love, smart and active. He made a really smooth jump tonight onto my bed. Proud sister over here. We have this thing called 'paws petting', which includes paws pressing and legs pulling. I love Hedi so much. I look at him every two minutes while writing this post.

Famous by Kanye is strange. I hear something really new in my ears. It's important to recognize someone's work for its sole value, regardless of their personal life or whatsoever. I do believe in Taylor. The fact that the second line "Why? I made that bitch famous" changed the whole attitude of the song, from being a fun little joke to tearing a person's accomplishment down. And it wasn't even true. Kanye played nothing to Taylor's success. I like Taylor Swift for her lyrics. Condensed, identical, and grammatically correct. It's so identical that you'll recognize her immediately in This Is What You Came For without her name credited. She's smart. No one can make that big life out of music without some talent, hard work, and intelligence. Look at Kanye, Life of Pablo is good. But not enough.. As in fashion, not enough, either.

- Famous is good.
- Kanye was shady letting Taylor know only half of his song's meaning.
- Kim played it dirty.
As soon as Taylor releases a new album, she will be forgiven.

I can't sleep. I should have slept hours ago. Now I'm jealous with Hedi. Looking like a bangle, happily rolling in bed with shuttered eyes.

GET ON FUTURAMA.

  When his life was ruined, his family killed, his farm destroyed, Job knelt down on the ground and yelled up to the heavens, “Why God? Why me?” and the thundering voice of God answered, “There’s just something about you that pisses me off.

—	Stephen King, Storm of the Century

Yes, either that or God really loves you. It's absurdly difficult to find Stephen King here. Anyway, the political situation in this country is getting funnier day by day. By 'situation', I mean a humorless joke that's been repeated on a broken vinyl endlessly from a turntable to another. Life, in my humble pea-alike eyes, is so damn fair. Why argue with a fella for opinions when you can enjoy a bowl of ramen and a glass of rice water alone? It's unnecessary for a man to pull the trigger if he can afford an assassin. So is it for you. You don't have to clean the mess if the maid arrives twice a week. 

I'm raising a kitten. Hedi, his name is. Every night, Hedi jumps on my bed, demands a massage and either chews on my shoe strings or my unplugged, unused electric wires. He falls asleep after an hour and freely takes the center of the bed. I love Hedi. He's so smart, handsome and independent. Sometimes his paws get stuck in my draped-over-the-chair pants and he keeps swinging back and forth like Tarzan. Big greyish eyes and waving tail.

Have I told you about my sensitive ears? I wrote about it in such a sentimental post that I had to delete it later. My ears are a little different from others'. Particularly, my inner ears are made of sensitive fibers and they react to the sound quite dramatically. I can't use earphones, I hardly use headphones, and Q-tip cotton is my nightmare. When I'm sick or nervous, my ears get achy and itchy. It affects my mood and generates anger. Back in high school, while being on the bus, I saw my friend plugging her earphones like the same thing she did every day, it stirred a big question in me. "How come your ears never ache?", I asked. She looked at me and smiled in the most satisfying way I couldn't envy any less. The doctor told me it was a condition, not a disease to cure, and I'd have to live with it for good. Annoying and special much. 

I'm watching Futurama, created by the same father of Bart Simpson. It's hilarious, witty and wicked. Fry resembles me so accurately and Bender is like 'Damn!'. I laughed like nuts while chugging tea. Not sipping, chugging. So damn good I finished my egg sandwiches in the blink of an eye. 

Alright. I have to cycle now. See you laterz. 

YVES, HEDI AND SIMON.

People may come and go but my awkward talking skill will always remain the same. What is worse than silence is wrong noise, indeed. Filthy weather. This afternoon, I saw my father getting blushed when one of the kittens approached him. His sensitivity cracked through his cement skin "like a virgin touched for the very first time." The kitten was anything but conscious of his direction. As I whistled towards him, he turned around hesitatedly, then to the right and the left. For short, I gave him a signal from one of the four winds, and he chose to walk to the other threes. His young sense of hearing was very lovely. I want to get close to the kittens to find out which one suits me the most. I assume the one without any stripes, who almost got out of the bed by bending below the wooden bar instead of hopping over it like his brothers. I said almost because after going halfway, he decided to return to his bed. Very me, indeed. I want to name him Yves, pronounced as Eve without the "s". I want to keep him near, feed and protect him. The other two kittens are beautiful. All are golden and striped in the same color. They are louder and more active. I must say I enjoy playing with the fluffies so much that I forgot their mother was right next to me. She enjoyed my pampering, too, with a lot of caution I think. Miu Miu, her name is. If I'm allowed to keep the other two, I will name them Hedi and Simon. Together, we'll have a fashion empire in a humble, humid room.