The “Anniversary” of my cat dying is tomorrow.  I don’t even know or want to know how many years ago it was.  It rendered me incapable of having any more cats because… 

I’ll spare you the gory details.

Actually, it made me incapable of having any pets.  Until I recently bought a Betta (type of fish that are so beautiful.)

His name was Rilke.  He got sick and died maybe two months after I had him.  Or maybe it was Infanticide.

After every medicine I could find (but not the right one) he wasn’t eating.  He wouldn’t listen to Mommy when she talked.  He would always swim immediately to the front of the tank and look directly at me during our “conversations.”

I was worried if he was in pain.  Not moving, eating.  Goodbye.

I then proceeded to throw out everything to do with owning a Betta.  Into the trash! I won’t own a Betta again either.

Mo (short for Mozart) killed me.  No, a huge part of me died with him. *crying in cafe/pub*

I don’t give a shit if people see me cry public.  Bugger Off!

Perfect day to begin to try and stop killing myself.

Thanks for always listening folks.

Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?


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