Only Rabbits and Horses

felix and indy

"And so will some one when I am dead and gone write my life? 

(As if any man really knew aught of my life, 

Why even I myself I often think know little or nothing of my real life, 

Only a few hints, a few diffused faint clews and indirections

I seek for my own use to trace out here.)"

- Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

I have a fear of some stranger one day reading through my journals and diaries, attempting to construe the semblance of my life, and write a book about it that's titled, Well folks, she truly was crazy. This irrationality causes me to journal less or when I do, consider constructing some code of symbols, or writing in futhork, to make it less easy to pry.  I wonder if all of adulthood is simply trying to outgrow childish paranoia and habits. Whenever I write, I think it is more or less exactly Whitman's words, trying to find a a few "faint clews" to know myself better. (Why do you write, if you do?)

On a more somber note, I'm convinced my bunnies hate me. Indy flipped when I attempted to touch her, and Felix, well, his thoughts were bent only on escape.  I finished a Rabbit Guide book today, and I became really depressed in the section on rabbit behavior.  My bunnies show none of the friendly affections possible, and are characterized by frightened postures, in addition to their loud thump of annoyance every time I put them back down from holding them.  In racking my memory recalling what I might have done to them, I can't help but think that any real children ever will be rather bad idea...

Felix the escape artist

However, I cannot possibly listen to this song and still remain sad. The summer I graduated from college was characterized by Eve and I driving around listening to the, then newest album, of the Scissor Sisters.  I can only say that their eminent release of a new album leaves me feeling a bit nostalgic for my senior summer, especially as both my siblings don the cap and gown and embark upon theirs. "Only the Horses" not only brings back old memories, but also an excitement for this summer (the long, oh so long hours of daylight!), but most imporantly, makes me want to dance in my socks right across the hardwood kitchen floor.