The Cat And The Rock

It's quiet. I'm sitting outside on my porch and there is a new type of silence tonight. It's not a perfectly calm type of silence but more of an uneasy one though I wish it weren't so. Either way I'm glad to have it. And a night where it's just cool enough to feel the weather and know you exist.

My mind is wandering aimlessly with thoughts of what news I will hear...no news is not necessarily good news, but it's the state I'm in right now. Waiting and thinking. Feeling obligated to solve world hunger? Not quite but the temptation feels a bit like that. I feel that often. Too often really. When i sit still I feel like I'm letting myself down but when i get up to move that I deserve a break. Crazy, right? Wow, my blog has become a diary tonight. Maybe I should stick to writing more about work? Nah, too predictable.

And that's not me. Especially not tonight. I was called out here tonight. Fine, don't believe me. But I was sitting inside near the porch door and I distinctly saw a shadow move past and heard footsteps outside. I thought it must have been a cat. I looked outside cautiously and there was nothing there. But the footsteps called me. So i came out, unafraid and investigated. No cat. No one sneaking around except this night. And a gas lamp. And this nice cool breeze that keeps me here. So I sat down. Ever feel the night draw you in? Not my first time.

I suppose I should say something profound now that I'm sitting out here writing away with no cat. Here goes: you know how you can only fold a paper so many times? Then you hit a limit. Try it. Fold it in half, then in half again. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I dare you. Then you hit a wall and you have this tiny mass of folded paper, like a rock. Why do people do that to themselves? Try not to be that rock of paper.

Enjoy this night...