14th November, 2018 Wednesday
Well Dream Kite had some interesting stuff last night but I will be damned if I can remember it right now. I know it was about higher education again. I am hungry for new learnings, new teaching, new input.
This may be a great trait, this hungry intellect of mine, or it may be a curse as it does beget dissatisfaction with the familiar. I know this shit, don’t ask me to do it again, why?
Now many humans who are owned by Sighthounds will tell you that their dogs are perfectly trained and they know what you want when you want them to do the things you want them to do. But they will also tell you you need to make it worth their while. Like I said, Humans owned by Sighthounds
Now I am owned by three breeds of Sighthounds, ancient to most recent invention, Saluki, Borzoi, and Scottish Deerhound.
The most ancient and some would argue, the purest, is my lovely Saluki, aka The Wizard. Now The Wizard has a very sincere approach to Life, he loves soulfully and therefore whatever his humans desire is his utmost wish. And he also carries the Guardian strain as for several thousand years his DNA as it rucked along the Silk Road was programmed to be suspicious of those he did not know until his human said OK. He has a tendency to hold out longest for the treat to entice him to come home. Now let me say, as he has aged, he is much more willing to come just for the call of anyone he loves, and love he does with every hair and fiber of his beautiful ancient soul.
Now Zoi is young yet. She has gone through a period where she would not come for love or pleading while enjoying our great outdoors, and then Voila, she came because I called with all the love in my heart I feel for her. But there are still times when she will choose to stalk that blessed squirrel dancing on Mother Oak’s extending tendrils before she will break focus to come for Mama’s loving call.
And then there are the Deerhounds. Lady Cara Creep who as she has aged chooses to acknowledge her affection for me based on how deliciously I feed her, and the cushioning of the totally extravagant leather couches I allow her scratching talons to destroy.
I will continue this another day as this one seems to have drawn to a close.
Are we seeing the curtain drawing on the use of how fucking fabulous the English language is? Rap is fabulously gorgeous but has its friggin source in all the cultures that enslaved their African rhythms not only in their language but in their flesh, run its course and now is swallowed in this cyber lingo?
I am feeling old and obsolete.
Tea With Me 