I finished the previous post an hour ago, before 10 pm.
I didn’t have many plans for today. If I’m being honest – and I always want to be – I’d rather write that I didn’t have any plans for today.
The karaoke party is over. The girl who sang third was the only one who could sing. Despite that, my brain didn’t burn out.
In fact, she kept working.
I have to write down what I came up with.
And – for the second time today – I do something I’ve never done before. I sit on my bed and type with my laptop on my feet. And I’m surprised to find out how well my mouse works on the sheet.
Dinner alone, then for two
Let’s just say the first half of the paragraph title is a big exaggeration.
You can’t be alone in the hostel garden. But let’s say I was sitting alone at a table. I was writing alone on my laptop. I was drinking beer in the selective silence of my turned-off ears.
After I decided that I wasn’t interested in karaoke, I really wasn’t. It was dirty, loud and fake, but I was much more engaged in writing. Then in reading. Because I started reading after finishing the previous post.
I only ate once today (fried rice with beef) and I felt a little hungry. That’s why I ordered a portion of fried rice with beef. I don’t think I’m kidding when I say that I really like rice.
I read peacefully for a while. The brilliant sentences of my favorite writer, Douglas Adams, go at least as well as the rice. For a while, for example, I savored this gem: “She seemed to be looking at something other than what she was looking at, as she stood there looking at something.”Jó pár oldallal végeztem, és a késői vacsorám kétharmadával is, amikor megláttam őt.
I was a few pages into it, and two-thirds through my late dinner, when I saw him.
She had just climbed into my lap.
We had met one morning. Then she simply lay down on the table next to my scrambled eggs.
Now she was more approachable.
She was very small. Black. With a purple collar.
She didn’t introduce hemself, so I call her cute cat.
That morning, I wasn’t really interested, so our relationship didn’t exactly start with a disinterested foundation.
She was still looking at my plate a lot. e seemed like a well-behaved, cute cat, he didn’t touch it, she just stared at it longingly. I may have just imagined her swallowing his saliva.
The beef rice is very delicious. I think she must have thought the same. From the remaining third of my dinner, I carefully selected the meat bites – just the right size for the cute cat’s mouth – and she skillfully ate every bite from my fingers.
She only bit a little differently twice, but I felt that he wasn’t doing it directly. I felt that she was trying to be careful. When she stepped on me, for example – very politely – she didn’t stick out her claws.
I also noticed how pleasant it felt to have her soft paws crawling on my bare thighs. Calm down! I was wearing shorts because I wasn’t sitting naked in the hostel garden!
So we had a nice dinner for two.
Then we spent another fifteen minutes together.
I stroked and massaged her back, scratched her head, warmed her sides.
She arched her back. She pricked her ears. She showed her bottom. She raised her tail like an antenna towards the sky.
And she purred non-stop.
Twice I thought it was time to leave the garden. She didn’t want to let me go. She was rubbing herself a lot, which I interpreted to mean that I could stay.
We finally parted ways. I’ve already showered, and I’m writing now.
If we meet in the morning, I don’t think she’ll tell me what she did.
And she purred non-stop
I’ve thought about looking into why cats purr once or twice.
Tonight, it was time.
This cute cat handled this shared dinner so easily that it suddenly occurred to me that I, in fact, am just purring. For months, non-stop.
But in order to find out the basis of the metaphor’s reality, I first had to know why cats purr.
I suspected that there was no single, unambiguous answer to this question.
According to accepted positions, purring does not serve a single function.
What I found was not a single answer. Purring can be satisfaction. Comfort. Security. Communication. Self-soothing. Stress management. Maybe even regeneration.
So the classic “purr = happy cat” is an oversimplification.
And with these conditions, I accept the metaphor I created myself.
I do purr. For months. Non-stop.
And I purr without stopping
I have written many times that the noises around me have not stopped.
But I have found an inner vibration, next to which the noises have lost their power.
I just note quietly that purring is also a vibration. An inner vibration.
I purr in a way that I do not say that I have no fear (okay, I might be saying that right now), no pain, no loss. I vibrate inside that these things are here, but they no longer control my life.
Maybe this is a quiet yes to life for me. Or just a stable frequency. A basic noise. I don’t know exactly. I just know that it is there.
I do not do the flow. I am inside. Just as the cat does not purr.
The world is loud outside.
And inside it is just this:
brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Buy me a coffee?
If you enjoyed this story, you can buy me a coffee. You don’t have to – but it means a lot and I always turn it into a new adventure.
Buy a coffee for Steve
Linktree
Short introduction