OKTOBER SPIRIT

THE STORY OF A LADY

The snow was falling in large, wide flakes as she struggled to move, sinking into the fresh snow. She raised her head, covered by the hood she had raised in an attempt to protect herself, and watched the house on the hill glow in the night. He pulled a large cloak against his body and kept walking until he reached the door.
When she entered the room she found herself enveloped in warmth. With a sigh he lowered the hood.
"Was it really necessary?" She asked the woman who, sitting in the armchair in front of the lit fireplace, was looking at her.
"Mmm ..." Only the woman muttered, as she stood up and walked over to an old turntable.
Music filled the air as a counterpoint to the sound of fir logs burning in the fire.
Outside, the snow storm did not seem to want to stop raging, but there, in that room, everything seemed to be quiet and harmony. The contrast was striking.
He took off his cloak and hung it on the side of the door, then walked over to the fire and stretched out his hands towards its warmth. She might also know that this place, that bubble, was just dream magic, it wasn't real, yet her brain kept telling her she was cold after climbing the hill in the snowstorm.
“You knew it was going to happen. It was inevitable. " He said, turning towards the woman.
The record was spinning, playing an old song: a female voice telling of a lost love.
"Unavoidable." The woman murmured. "I'll kill him." He then added and the way he said it contained no inflection, it was not a threat, it was simple reality.
"No you will not." She said, approaching her and wrapping her arms around her, leaning her face against the woman's back. "You'll resist, you'll watch him touch me, while you can't even touch my skin, you'll watch him marry me when you can't even talk to me, you'll watch him possess me, when you can't even ..." eyes and placed two fingers on her lips, stopping her.
"How silly." He murmured, his eyes closed. "The betrothed of the king and his court sorceress ..." He opened his eyes to look at her, and they were splendid green eyes, the green eyes that he had sought in his sleep that first night and that had attracted her there, in that bubble in which they had talked, for the first time and for many more nights after that.
"My chains and my freedom." The woman countered, a smile on her lips, the song rang out its last verses, so bitter yet so beautiful, so desperate and yet so sweet. "He can do what he wants with my body, he will never have my heart."
He saw the woman's eyes stiffen again and then surrender as she lifted herself up on her toes to kiss her.
"This dream will be enough for me, this fiction will be my reality and, out there, just a bad nightmare, from which I will wake up in your arms." The snowstorm stopped howling and in the night there was only the sound of the crackling fire in the fireplace and the scratching of the tip on the turntable.

BLACK KITTEN WANDERING

He wanders, searches, sucks bones but is not satisfied. He moves towards the center, the suburbs, goes up and down the stairs of abandoned buildings, moves cautiously, notices a few strays but pays no attention. On summer days he is freer, less breaks during the day, but a sense of absence, of lack makes him restless. Meows at the moon but she does not listen and I believe it, with all the moon has to do, illuminate the navigators in the black night ... Courage black cat, winter will come and on the road you will find a prey that will ask for your protection .
And so soon the leaves will fall, the frost will cover the grass, the clouds will darken the sky, the torrential rain will crawl the streets and the black cat will look for a warm place where he can have good food and caresses.

ALL THE SPACE I NEED

Instead of continuing to do, do, do, it might be appropriate to reduce a little what you do every day and take the time to be.

Have you ever thought about how difficult it is to give yourself time to stay, reflect, meditate, look at life in a sunset, observe a cat, a flight of birds.

Can you answer the question "who are you?" without limiting yourself to the name, and to the work you do?
The "doing" often coincides with the "doing by force" which at the body level can be translated with a state of tension or with a general feeling of frustration.

This feeling, in words, is often defined with phrases like

"I have little space" or "it's all too full" "I miss the air" or "I feel back against the wall".
In all these cases one must return to one's own time, to pauses, to one's internal spaces, to those areas made up of borders, areas of contact and withdrawal from the environment and on the other that mark not only our internal times, but above all our needs.

What do I really need?





MY FIRST CAT MORGANA

A few things were enough for me, it's true I always had my head full of thoughts and unless I wanted it personally it was impossible to take them off, but immersed in that immense stillness not even I could do anything about it, the night was dark and you could not even see the stars, then maybe i could say it was cloudy. There were two rusty lampposts that in front of me opaquely illuminated the road, they were the only source of light not to mention the few cars that sometimes passed. 
It was all so calm, no noise outside of me. In my ears I listened to music with earphones and it calmed my soul. But more important was my cat looking around as if everything she looked at was a wonderful new discovery. Every now and then he would come up to me and give me two licks, while others tried to sleep. But always close to me.
In short, the fact is that in that small balcony, in the most absolute quiet, it was me and my cat, who was called Morgana; and I can say with certainty that no one else had ever been able to speak to me with such magnificence. I finally felt at peace with myself.

MY CATS ON THE WASHING MACHINE

WE LOVE DOGS

I have always thought that animals are not bought, because they are not toys or things, and therefore I am curious to know the prices, to know why some want a dog or a cat simply for the breed and instead some are just looking for an animal to love beyond. beyond species or otherwise.
I am increasingly convinced that animals should never be bought, but adopted, as the shelters are full of puppies eager for a lot of love, instead of giving birth to new animals in the farms just for business and sale. And if we think that many dogs will stay all their lives in a kennel and that they will never be adopted, suffering from lack of space and often food, how can we think of spending money to buy an animal just because it belongs to a special breed?
The difference seems minimal but it is not: the animals in the shelters are healthy and vaccinated instead, excluding serious farms, farmed animals live in cages, becoming money-making machines, i.e. breeding machines, and puppies are often forced to get away from their mother early and make long journeys to reach the country where they will then be sold in shops, often getting sick or worse dying prematurely.
So since Christmas is approaching and you should be better off, I suggest you get yourself a nice gift and adopt a dog so that you can make a friend happy and not be alone in your life anymore. On top of that, a dog improves mental health and, if adopted, even better. Why do we tell you this? Because an adopted dog will be grateful, affectionate, tender and loving, since he will feel indebted to you for teaching him that there are not only the places where he lived and was treated badly. This will make you feel important and increase your self-esteem.
Here I put links, of Italian sites, where you can find your new partner. You can add sites in other states in the comments.

https://www.isoladelvagabondo.it/

https://www.adottauncane.net/

https://www.legadelcanemi.it/adotta/adotta-un-cane/

https://www.enpathiene.org/categoria-portfolio/cani-da-adottare/

https://m.facebook.com/pg/enpaonlus/posts/?_se_imp=2XfGmUmAv4jEPHxGb

MY CATS COLLECTION ( part one)

All those I have loved, all those who have passed by my house, all those who have remained in my heart. Their memory will always be magical for me. I love all animals and even cats that I have been lucky enough to have with me at home or that have disappeared. I hope you who love cats can understand my nostalgia. I am allergic to cat hair and can no longer keep cats indoors. I keep them in the garden but every now and then they make their rounds and don't come back. My heart cries when I don't see them anymore but I always remember each one of them and my love will always be with them all. They were close to me when I cried, they comforted me, kept me company and supported me in difficult times. They have all been special and continue to be special to me.

PRINCIPESSA, my little whitesnow
TORTELLINO, my dear black cat
PERLA, the snob girl
PIMPY, my curious little kitten
PRINCE, my lost love
MARY AND PRINCE, together on my bed
MARY, on my sound set
PALLINO, my lovely little joker
MARY, loves my book very much

CATS IN MY GARDEN

  • I should take my cat as an example: he sees everything, but he does not let himself be upset by anything; it might sound like indifference, but I think it’s just immense wisdom. Yes, because a cat is fine alone, it is fully satisfied with itself, yet it deeply loves caresses, but above all it is not afraid to ask for it. And with great class he knows how to exploit every empty corner to obtain comfort. It is the perfect balance between curiosity and tranquility, between loneliness and company, love and selfishness: his is simple selfishness disguised as love … or maybe it’s pure love disguised as selfishness.
A Pet’s Last Will and Testament

Before humans die, they write their last will and testament, give their home and all they have to those they leave behind. If, with my paws, I could do the same, this is what I’d ask…

To a poor and lonely stray I’d give my happy home; my bowl and cozy bed, soft pillow and all my toys; the lap which I loved so much; the hand that stroked my fur; and the sweet voice that spoke my name.

I’d will to the sad, scared shelter pet the place I had in my human’s loving heart, of which there seemed no bounds.

So, when I die, please do not say, “I will never have a pet again, for the loss and pain is more than I can stand.”

Instead, go find an unloved pet, one whose life has held no joy or hope, and give my place to him.

This is the only thing I can give…

The love I left behind
I know that Nano will not live forever, I know that his time on earth, like everyone else, is limited. I know that I cannot work miracles, nor invent amazing cures, and that this cat has had HIV for years. I know that the past does not go back, and that the living organism of each of us deteriorates month by month, year after year, continuously. I have studied general pathology and biology, and I am now studying degenerative and infectious diseases and pathologies affecting internal organs. And even a child knows that at some point each of us will no longer be on this earth. However, no matter how much I think about it, and repeat it to me, and tell me that I must be prepared, that that moment will happen, in a day not far away, that it is nothing but the passing of life, the natural cycle of each one. our. It doesn’t matter that if I think about it clearly it’s all right, and it’s all scientific and sequential. Because as soon as I stop to really think about that day, and the lack of Nano from my life, and his non-presence, and the fact that he will be gone from that day until the end of my days, I feel like I’m dying. I feel an anguish so enormous, immense, atrocious, crushing and suffocating, that it seems to me that I too am dying a bit. It seems to me that I can no longer breathe, that my chest is heavy, that my pleurae are squeezing my lungs, that my mind is leaving me. It is an intolerable idea to remain without a part of my life and without a life partner as faithful as he has been over the years.
I know death, I have seen it several times during my internship. I saw life leave a creature: the exact, precise moment in which that animal was there, and the second after when everything stopped. Being and not being. The presence and absence of life, with no return. And every time, however absurd it is, it remains terrible. And the most terrible thing is that I will be alone even in that moment, because no one around me understands even remotely what he means to me, and what we have been all our life. Nobody will care, neither about him nor the pain that I already know will swallow me. And I just want someone who could give me a hug that day, or a sign of humanity and a shoulder to cry on. And instead there will be nothing but emptiness. And he, my shoulder to cry on, my little great strength, will be gone. I will be even more alone than now, alone even in elaborating the definitive absence of a feline brother whom I have loved more than many human people in my life. This time I’m really afraid of getting lost in too devastating a pain.

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