Thoughts

2009-08-02T09:37:00.000-07:00

TURK

This is Turk. Turk…this is (insert your name).

Turk is my year old, part main coon, and big, fluffy kitty. He has a little bit of an attitude and definitely gets a little excited when people are around, but he is the most sweet and loving creature when it is just me and him.

(It is just he and I right now and he just took a huge kitty dump that smells horrible, so I retract that “sweet” part.)

Pets are the most amazing companions for anyone who lives on their own, struggles with stress, or gets lonely. Research has proven petting an animal or watching fish swim significantly reduces stress. Through various pet therapy research ventures, I found:

Pet Therapy Holistic online said:

Pet owners have lower triglyceride and cholesterol levels than non-owners (Anderson, 1992).
Companionship of pets helps children in families adjust better to the serious illness and death of a parent (Raveis, 1993)
Pet owners have fewer minor health problems (Friedmann, 1990, Serpel, 1990).
Pet owners have better psychological well-being (Serpel, 1990).
Contact with pets develops nurturing behavior in children who may grow to be more nurturing adults (Melson, 1990).
Pet owners have a higher on-year survival rates following coronary heart disease (Friedman, 1980).
Medication costs dropped from an average of $3.80 per patient per day to just $1.18 per patient per day in new nursing home facilities in New York, Missouri and Texas that have animals and plants as an integral part of the environment. (Montague, 1995).
Having a pet may decrease heart attack mortality by 3%. This translates into 30,000 lives saved annually (Friedman, 1980).
Dogs are preventive and therapeutic measures against everyday stress (Allen, 1991).
Pets decrease feeling of loneliness and isolation (Kidd, 1994).
Children's cognitive development can be enhanced by owning a pet. (Poresky, 1988).
70% of families surveyed reported an increase in family happiness and fun subsequent to pet acquisition. (Cain, 1985).
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The CDC Said:

Pets can decrease your:

Blood pressure
Cholesterol levels
Triglyceride levels
Feelings of loneliness

2. Pets can increase your:

Opportunities for exercise and outdoor activities

Opportunities for socialization

AND so on and so on…

Most web pages, bias and non-bias, had about the same things to say: Owning a pet makes you feel better. I would have to completely agree with this statement. I would definitely define myself as a fairly independent person and I do enjoy spending time alone…sometimes. However, I spent a few months living alone while working full-time and realized my social life plummeted. I just didn’t have time to go out and stay up and spend money (college student). I found myself opening the door to an empty apartment after a long day and feeling incredibly lonely. You want to talk about your day and know that someone is happy you made it through the day and back to your apartment safely. I came home to no one and nothing.

I had a cat from age eight through leaving home for college, but unfortunately that kitty, Lorin, was old enough that the move and major change of routines and environment could cause him to become ill. So, I decided to adopt a kitten. I think adopting cats/dogs of any ages is awesome and doable, but I wanted a kitten (not just for the cute factor) but also because a big cat used to living in a spacious house or outdoor setting would probably be miserable in an apartment. So Turk has been here since six weeks and he not only acts satisfied with his space, but also as a King over his lands.

I could tell you a thousand fascinating stories about my cat’s human like antics or bore you with every time Turk did “the funniest thing ever,” but I guess the point is you form a bond with you pet that has been proven to make you happier, less stressed and healthier. My vote: everyone should have a pet.

Her Story

2009-05-27T01:05:00.000-07:00

She was to young for it, to free for it, to pretty for it. True love? She spoke, agreeing and smiled at her lie. Her body and kiss hid it, her lips spoke it, her soul and heart wished for it, but her mind was made up. She knew, despite what she said, that there was no true love and that this couldn’t be it.
He was blinded by it, consumed through and through. He worshiped her, his “one.” When he spoke it, he meant it with every fiber and molecule of his being. He called her Angel. A silly pet name to her and a protective grace for him and he was safe. He had found purpose and motivation in a girl who couldn’t help lying to him.
She was wild and young. The youth is what drove her, held down 18 years too long. She was indestructible and unsatisfied with conforming or settling. He had a plan, it eased his mind and organized his life. She hated his plan. Everything had always been planned out for her and she withdrew in self-protection. What a nightmare, to never run free, to never wake with no plan or schedule to rule your actions and thoughts.
She pushed and pulled him away. She became ugly in doing so. She became ugly in morals, ugly in sensitivity, and ugly in behavior. Yet, she was still his Angel. He hung on so long his hands stung with distain. The rope she had him dangling from was simply his memories of and Angel he knew.
Time passed.
Now she looks back and wishes he knew that Angel still existed. She hopes part of him knows, but he is healed and has tasted that freedom. He tasted the unplanned and frightful rush she once longed for, and now he races each day to the next road. Probably some of the same roads she ran without him, but the stinging truth is what causes the most pain. Road after road that she traveled, the last road to turn, led her right back to him. The him she had thought was worth the sacrifice and the him she thought was a youthful obsession. He was long gone, but her memories held her fast to his spot. Alone and uncertain she’ll have to wait, hoping his road will lead him back to this place.
So what is it? True love or not? Maybe it is just a comfortable feeling you can form with anyone, just some easier than others. Maybe is a feeling your heart confirms, but your brain never settles on.

Silly Poem after an obsession with Poetry Slams

2009-05-27T00:25:00.000-07:00

You know the stuff you are thinking while you’re walking?
Like stuff you can’t put into words while your talking?
Like how you think you have problems. Hum. Problems with love,
when parents are drinking and hitting.
Worried about self-interests while kids are fighting or missing.
Those damn parents are the reason our society is crying.
Those “role models” are making us numb to chaos and dying.
We have worlds that are dying, starving and oil depleting.
And we are worried about the song on the IPod, temptation and cheating.
Huge problems like waving at someone you thought you knew.
Maybe just the opposite, and your hand is stuck to your side like glue.
We have problems like feeling in the dark.
The opposite sex, or maybe the same, only gives us a spark.
So we walk around blindly feeling like shit,
breathing so deeply from the run to find “it.”
Running so damn fast but “it” getting farther away
and getting close enough to feel the heat and turn away.
You’re feeling like shit because you have everything you need.
Except for that one god damn cliché little bead.
If it ain’t threaded and worn around your neck,
you will be lost in the millions, only a speck.
You have to have that bead to string close to you.
One is a number, but is more comfortable with two.
So we scream excuses and mimic the shit that we read,
willing to do anything, willing to bleed.
How about a newspaper, a little strain on the brain.
Love is a disease, but the world is plagued with wars and pain.
Think about it, closely, all that shit you are fed.
Start feeling ashamed, throat tightened, about the priorities in your head.
But what is living and our world if you’re alone?
Isn’t it more important to find someone to make you’re house a home?
Get your fucking coffee, let it pull you awake.
True love isn’t the problem, you know that shits fake.
Your problem, our problem is self interest alone.
This melancholy song’s gonna keep playing, get used to the tone.

Stupid Love

2009-05-27T00:20:00.000-07:00

True love. What a messy and cliché theme for discussion. True love has been underdone, overdone, and butchered to no end, but it seems to be the meat of our existence? Some of us fall under the believers of true love, some the non and worse the despisers. Although the mystery of this cliché haunts the population, this one little niche rules our lives

Take for instance that solid believer in true love. They tell themselves, subliminally or otherwise, often that they have found it or it is near coming. Those believers walk around, constantly searching and aching for that companionship. They are blinded into bad relationships and kept from good ones with that “they are the one” mentality.

Worse yet are the believers who know who “the one” is, but are always inches from catching that butterfly of perfection. It weighs on them daily like the comforter on a body that had a late night and an early morning. That comfort of laying there, content in knowing, is tightened and mangled by the sheets of uncertainty that tangle their every glimpse of hope.

Then of course the nonbelievers. They live their lives, feeling full and free of that weight or constraint. Not worried in love, in like, or even sex. They don’t follow the invisible rulebook of uncertainty that the believers daily sacrifice sanity unto, but their hole? That drudging, clammy pit of emptiness, that may only show up on Valentine’s Day, or when they are forced to watch an old couple, holding hands, cross in front of their car, but it is there. That pit that tugs at that lower stomach region that indicates, god forbid, uncertainty.

Uncertainty. Is she the one? Will he always look at me this way? Will I ever be tired of her? Will I get bored of him? Will I wish for something else? Is she wishing for someone else? What an ugly idea for a board game. Imagine circling the bored and having your fate decided by the role of a dice and an eight ball type answer to these questions. So arrives the conclusion, it is not only cliché and messy, but an impossible problem.