D
Doombringer
Guest
Ok, don't get the wrong impression, I do go outside, I'm not a pale white from lack of sunlight, the outside I'm talking about is when you want to be outside, its not a boring or sweaty chore, not forced upon you to get you some exercise, but an escape from the utilitarian, electronic clutter of the household.
It all started a little after supper, I went outside to empty the compost and found my cat, Bruce, sitting on the fence looking at me. I pet him a little bit, then picked him up and brought him inside. I went upstairs and back to my room to browse here(CPA) for a little while then went into the hallway. Bruce was lying on the top stair, and I remembered a story my sister had told me about her housemates cat. It was so nice, patient and docile, that it would let you hold it in the air by the back legs and it would simply wait to be put down. I tried to see if Bruce would do this. The resulting scratches to my face were bright red within five minutes.
Bruce was now extremely pissy so I tried to be nice to him and pet him only to be nearly scratched again. Feeling guilty about the displeasure I cause to my pet, I figured the thing he wanted most was to simply go outside. so I opened the door to let him out and was greeted by a cool, night breeze. I can't find words to describe how it felt, not bad, not really good, but refreshing. so I ran barefoot on the grass and thought, this is the outside, the good outside, the unforced outside that one wants to be in.
When was the last time you went outside? Was it the outside that I mean, or just another trip to the gas station?
It all started a little after supper, I went outside to empty the compost and found my cat, Bruce, sitting on the fence looking at me. I pet him a little bit, then picked him up and brought him inside. I went upstairs and back to my room to browse here(CPA) for a little while then went into the hallway. Bruce was lying on the top stair, and I remembered a story my sister had told me about her housemates cat. It was so nice, patient and docile, that it would let you hold it in the air by the back legs and it would simply wait to be put down. I tried to see if Bruce would do this. The resulting scratches to my face were bright red within five minutes.
Bruce was now extremely pissy so I tried to be nice to him and pet him only to be nearly scratched again. Feeling guilty about the displeasure I cause to my pet, I figured the thing he wanted most was to simply go outside. so I opened the door to let him out and was greeted by a cool, night breeze. I can't find words to describe how it felt, not bad, not really good, but refreshing. so I ran barefoot on the grass and thought, this is the outside, the good outside, the unforced outside that one wants to be in.
When was the last time you went outside? Was it the outside that I mean, or just another trip to the gas station?