Nothing more

Love is not love 

Which alters when it alteration finds, 

Or bends with the remover to remove. 

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark 

That looks on tempests and is never shaken

The only way to fully understand this sonnet is to have once madly loved, immediately followed by your love ripping that promise to shreds. If it was real love you will never love again, I promise. Only then can you fully understand the misery of true love described in that sonnet. Glorious torment. 

This is it. The end. There is nothing more. Like Dean Martin, I’m just biding my time in Vegas with booze and tramps waiting to die.

“You’re not moving any time soon are you?” He asked rhetorically mid speech.

Actually, yes. Yes I am. In about two years I’m moving to Palm Springs. Senior housing is cheaper there. I’m going to need help walking. When I was horribly sick last January I had to drag myself around to get better. I haven’t the strength to do it again next year. 

The cruelty of being mortal is looking young and beautiful as my internal body withers with age. It’s just cruel. Fuck youth and beauty. I’m old. I want to look old. You’ll never understand it unless this happens to you. People think when you look young, you are young. 

This morning I threw Miso the cat out of my apartment. Twice. Threw him out onto the sidewalk.

This damn cat has gotten comfortable. And since he is mostly feral, fury boy bits still intact, he is growing ever more aggressive. He used to be sweet, timid, scared, just looking for a place to eat, sleep, and get out of the cold. Now he’s aggressive and demanding. About a week ago he started randomly attacking my legs while I put his bowl of soft food together. I have claw marks all over my legs. My sweet little kitty is gone. In his place is a stark raving mad fury lunatic. 

This morning I was on my way to the laundromat and Miso jumped out from the bushes as he had in the past. His fur was ice cold, he was shivering, hungry, probably tired, and he meowed pathetically at me begging for help. It was freezing cold and super windy last night and he was out in it for at least 7 hours. I was going to look for him one last time before going to sleep but I had looked twice earlier and in all honesty he has just gotten too aggressive, confrontational. 

So when he meowed at me this morning I reluctantly rushed him up to my apartment to feed him. But instead of eating he just played with his food and started opening my cabinets and jumping all over the place knocking everything over. I threw away Miso’s food and water and kicked him out. 

When I finished doing laundry I came home and did some things around my apartment. I went out to check yesterday’s mail and Miso ran up to me again. I thought I’d give him another chance and let him back into my apartment to feed him some hard food this time, and water. But the moment we got into my apartment Miso started attacking my legs again. Clawing and biting at them. I bent down to fill his bowl with food and Miso clawed me in the face. That was it. I threw my shoes at him until he ran out of my apartment and down the stairs. I opened the security gate and kicked him out onto the sidewalk.

And that is the last time that cat comes inside my apartment. 

I looked online to see why Miso had suddenly gotten so aggressive and the most common answer was because he had become comfortable and territorial over me and my time. And that simply will not do. 

If he needed a place to eat and sleep I was more than happy to provide that for him, but that’s it. The other day he was hungry and tired. He ate and slept for five hours while I was busy around the apartment. Today however he was just being territorial. And that will not do. 

It’s a cold cruel world out there little kitty. You need more time out in it. 

Men are lucky. Parents today being what they are, there will always be a young beautiful woman in need. As long as you provide her what she wants, you have a shot at having someone getting you medicine when you’re sick. Either that or she’ll take your money and bail. 

I’m old. I’ve been through the wringer one too many times. Enough. I can’t risk any more. Between falling in love again and senior housing, I’ve already chosen senior housing. 

You care about credit card points, and credit scores when you plan on getting married, buying a house and starting a family. Millennials don’t think that way. Their selfish greed will keep them out of marital and parental financial troubles. Smartest generation ever.