Revenge of De Gato
I sit silently in the dark, waiting for my chance to pounce. He walks about, unsuspecting. Thinking his life in his head. Thinking mediocre things like work and family and relationships and such.
What's family? My mum left me when I was two months old. Never seen her since. I never knew my dad. Worthless bugger. Screwed my mum and left her to fend for the four of us. I was the only one to survive.
What's work? You work your @$$ off every day just to make enough money to survive. To SURVIVE! An ironic suggestion. Stupid reason. What's survival if you spend it working to continue living to work the next day so you can repeat the process a thousand times over until you die. And when you're on your death bed you wonder what you did with your life. Nothing. Just work.
You people are so caught up in this fictitious idea of life that you have that it requires you to work to survive. Most of you do not even like it. Yet you do it coz there isn't anything else you can do with your life, can you? Or maybe that thought just never occurred to you.
To those who enjoys their work, good for you. You've learnt a valuable lesson. But the moment you dislike any part of it, then you belong to the earlier group of misinformed misfits. Lost souls searching for the reason of their existence.
What's the point of working so hard? If you can't enjoy any part of it? Especially the work itself. It's not about the growth. It's about the process of getting there.
Relationships. Bullshit mother f******g shit! What are relationships? Partnerships? Being together? Crap. All crap. All of it. You're in a relationship for moral support. To be loved. To be able to love. Yet you criticise each other, try to change each other. Complain about growth. Complain about not growing. Complain about the material things that will end up immaterial after all.
In the end, all you want is a shoulder to cry on. Someone to screw in the middle of the night, or day, or morning, or whatever fancies you. You want someone to talk to. To listen. Even if they can't do anything about it. It helps to have someone listening. Well, I can do that same. I can do all the above. And not worry about relationships. In the end, you just want someone to be there. No matter how much you deny it. How much you can afford and want to be alone. You always want someone to be there.
And I can be there. I know when to be there.
Like now. Like how I am here now.
I am sitting in the darkness watching his every move. He is unsuspecting. Unaware. It is now time to strike...
...
In blinding quickness I pounce on his calf, giving him a loving bite as I do. He recoils in surprise and reacts accordingly. I am shoved with his foot and I tumble backwards. Seeing inevitable loss, I hastily retreat to the darkness, where I await another chance...
And in the darkness, I see once again another chance. This time I will not fail... for I am, de Gato. The cat named Chap...
I sit silently in the dark, waiting for my chance to pounce. He walks about, unsuspecting. Thinking his life in his head. Thinking mediocre things like work and family and relationships and such.
What's family? My mum left me when I was two months old. Never seen her since. I never knew my dad. Worthless bugger. Screwed my mum and left her to fend for the four of us. I was the only one to survive.
What's work? You work your @$$ off every day just to make enough money to survive. To SURVIVE! An ironic suggestion. Stupid reason. What's survival if you spend it working to continue living to work the next day so you can repeat the process a thousand times over until you die. And when you're on your death bed you wonder what you did with your life. Nothing. Just work.
You people are so caught up in this fictitious idea of life that you have that it requires you to work to survive. Most of you do not even like it. Yet you do it coz there isn't anything else you can do with your life, can you? Or maybe that thought just never occurred to you.
To those who enjoys their work, good for you. You've learnt a valuable lesson. But the moment you dislike any part of it, then you belong to the earlier group of misinformed misfits. Lost souls searching for the reason of their existence.
What's the point of working so hard? If you can't enjoy any part of it? Especially the work itself. It's not about the growth. It's about the process of getting there.
Relationships. Bullshit mother f******g shit! What are relationships? Partnerships? Being together? Crap. All crap. All of it. You're in a relationship for moral support. To be loved. To be able to love. Yet you criticise each other, try to change each other. Complain about growth. Complain about not growing. Complain about the material things that will end up immaterial after all.
In the end, all you want is a shoulder to cry on. Someone to screw in the middle of the night, or day, or morning, or whatever fancies you. You want someone to talk to. To listen. Even if they can't do anything about it. It helps to have someone listening. Well, I can do that same. I can do all the above. And not worry about relationships. In the end, you just want someone to be there. No matter how much you deny it. How much you can afford and want to be alone. You always want someone to be there.
And I can be there. I know when to be there.
Like now. Like how I am here now.
I am sitting in the darkness watching his every move. He is unsuspecting. Unaware. It is now time to strike...
...
In blinding quickness I pounce on his calf, giving him a loving bite as I do. He recoils in surprise and reacts accordingly. I am shoved with his foot and I tumble backwards. Seeing inevitable loss, I hastily retreat to the darkness, where I await another chance...
And in the darkness, I see once again another chance. This time I will not fail... for I am, de Gato. The cat named Chap...
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