AnOublietteofThought

Do you ever stop and think about all the things you have done in life and all the skills you have learned? It's not something I really think about. Not often, anyway. I have a girlfriend who sends me these little memes that list any number of things that someone is supposed to have done, because she knows I enjoy that sort of thing. She tells me her score and persons she works with who also take it, and I am always quite surprised. I have usually done most of the things on the list, if not all of them. Often at a much younger age than the group she is telling me about ,who has done almost none of them.

I used to think that was a generational thing, or a location thing. Maybe a socioeconomic thing. It's probably all of the above, and a little bit more. It is strange how so much becomes lost so quickly. There are things I just take for granted as common sense knowledge that most people I know have no idea how to perform. I would say that in the last decade or so, my perspective of people has changed quite a bit.

We place so much emphasis on diplomas that often teach book skills, but can forget the importance of hands-on training. We also forget that a person does not need to attend a university or college to educate themselves on a subject in today's world. We forget to analyze, question, discuss, and think in a broad direction. We are also not taught to listen. Listen. Listen. We judge persons for their vocabulary, and we weaponize language and dialect. Yet we never know where a good idea will come from or what might spark our imagination.

I think that I am very fortunate to be part of Gen-X. At my earliest years, I was being taught by people who were alive in the 1800s. I was shown skills from people who participated in both World War I and World War II. Not to mention everything that came afterwards. I was taught how to grow my own food. How to track an animal. How to navigate through the woods. How to find clean water. How to gather seeds. How to work traps. How to shoot a rifle. The aspects of working on a car. How to do all sorts of things both inside and outside of the house, before I ever attended school. Obviously, just the basics at that time. But I was a sponge soaking up everything around me, and everything around me was teaching me how to survive without modern help necessarily.

I listened to the stories being told by both men and women. I do not even remember the names of some of the older generation, but I adored them at the time. I learned how to ride a horse. I attended many a rodeo. I learned how to do things that I probably don't even realize that I learned how to do, just by listening and watching. I was curious. That curiosity was encouraged. I quickly learned how to read and devoured books. All kinds of books. Including encyclopedias. Encyclopedias were magical at that time. I deeply enjoyed reading them from cover to cover because I never knew what I was going to discover. But there was always the chance to inspire further exploration.

I ran all over town both on two legs and on a bicycle. Adult totally knew where I was going if I actually told the truth about where I was going. I did eventually get to wherever I said I was going, so that I wasn't lying, but I wandered a lot. I learned to climb high, to take risks, and to be thoughtful in doing so. I learned how high I could go and jump before it started to hurt. I also learned landing the wrong way from a very short height at the right trajectory could break a bone. I aspired to be both a monkey and a dolphin. I wanted to be an eagle. It is fortunate that I could not get supplies to attempt to make myself “proper” wings without being caught.

It is also probably fortunate that I did not live anywhere near cliffs. I would like to think I was bright enough not to do something stupid, but I would not have bet money on that. I was always pushing myself and doing things considered crazy by today's standards. At the time, it was just explorative play and mini adventures. That is all still just my childhood. And it continued to grow as I got into my teens. Then came the adult years. I look at what I have done and the knowledge I have acquired between those years, and I admit that I might be a little impressed with myself. Or rather I should say, that if someone else told me what I know I have learned, I would be impressed with them. It's a little different since it is just me. To me, it's no big deal because it's been acquired naturally.

I am often told that I shouldn't disparage myself. Usually the person who says it doesn't realize I'm not disparaging myself. I'm confident in my skills. I'm also aware of how much I don't know, and I'm not afraid to admit it. There is so much that I don't know, but damn will it be fun trying to acquire more and more knowledge with the years that I have remaining in this particular body.

In recent years, I was conversing with someone and they asked if I saw myself as a renaissance woman. I contemplated it for a moment, and thought how wonderful would that be. I think I said something along the lines of, “Maybe. Or a polymath. I'm just a perpetual student with infinite curiosity.” They then explained how being a renaissance man is a negative thing in today's society. I listened to their reasoning, and was a bit humored. Give me a renaissance man! They are very under-appreciated.

Today, I look around at everything around us. Our entire society uses mechanisms that we cannot recreate ourselves. We cannot make computer chips or many other things by ourselves. The majority of the world does not even have the understanding of how to do it. Much less the multi-million dollar machines required to do it. Hell, most people no longer know how to change a tire by themselves. They're driving this car day after day, and cannot make a simple repair. They can't change their spark plugs. They can't change their oil filter. They can't change the oil. Many people can't follow instructions. Simple instructions.

I think about that. There is fortune in being able to do something with your own hands. Yes, sometimes it is not necessary. Yes, time is priceless. But so is knowledge, understanding, and capability. A vast lack of knowledge and willingness to learn and continue learning is a big part of what is wrong in our world. Not to mention arrogance, hard-headedness, ego, laziness, and selfishness. With a dash of being blind to the big picture, time, and just how essential ecosystems are. Nobody likes vultures, cockroaches, or sanitation workers. Yet without them, we would be royally fucked. Completely and royally fucked.

I wonder where we are going. The powers that be want us to believe it is outer space. That is such an impossibility on so many levels at this time that it is mind-boggling how many people don't comprehend the vast hurdles that have to be jumped in order to make that happen. (Hello, run on.) We simply don't have the data nor the ability to do so much of what is required to make that a reality. We are nowhere near it. We are so far away from it, that we don't even know everything that we need to be looking for.

I suppose that is how it has always been with us, isn't it? Instead of relishing and nurturing what is under our own feet, we look out to the stars and want to be planted anywhere but where we actually grew from. I have no room to talk. I wanted to get away from as young as I can remember. Yet no matter what I've learned, or where I've gone, deep inside I am still that young child who just wants to dig her toes into the soil, and listen to the Earth sing.

Perhaps that is something else we have forgotten—the healing beauty of song and dance. As well as the wondrous orchestra of Mother Nature.

How about you? What have you learned? What do you not know, but hope to one day learn? What experiences have you acquired that are good to pass on?

We tell stories. We make judgments. We stand firm in our ideals. But do we remember the importance and gift that it is to be self-aware, to be capable of sharing, and if one's belief system says it to be true, do we know how to be good stewards? Or do we just flaunt a title with little to no responsibility or accountability for our actions or lack there of? Sometimes, I think that perhaps we are not as self-aware as we like to aggrandize ourselves to be.

I think of all I've learned and all I've done...It is a lot. But it's but a fraction of a fraction of a microscopic fraction of all that is waiting for me to soak in.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

I was reading something this afternoon that reminded me of a time I went on a battleship. It was the first time I had seen one in person. I was shocked by how big it was. I could not wrap my head around how big it was.

That made me think about the submarine USS Drum because it's on display with the USS Alabama for civilians to go in and check out. If I recall correctly, it's a WWII sub, and it is the oldest on display in the states. The smell that hits you when you walk in literally made my teeth hurt. That smell always has. I can't stand it.

Other than that, I was really surprised by how close the quarters actually are. I'm pretty short, but it felt tiny even to me. I walked around contemplating what it must have felt like to be one of the 70 (give or take) souls on board. I'm pretty sure it would have poked at me to have that many people so close for such an extended period. I am not fond of my personal space being invaded.

That got me thinking of other places I've been where imagination doesn't quite meet reality. In the 80s, I was fortunate to go to Houston for some NASA fun. I was awed by Mission Control. I really felt like I was seeing something magical. I eagerly took my husband there in the 90s because I wanted him to feel that magic, too. It was very shabby then. I couldn't quite believe I was looking at the same place.

On the opposite end of that spectrum, I was also blessed to see the beginnings of what would eventually become the ISS. It blew my mind and filled me with many a fantasy. Fast forward to when I took my husband and we saw full mockups and got to see training in their massive pool. (I think it's called a neutral buoyancy lab, or something like that.) It makes me wonder what I'd see thirty years later. I will have to go back.

That is also the first time I saw an IMAX movie. The screen was five stories tall. I had seen some pretty big screens in California, but nothing like that. Just like the projection mapping at Disney World was mind blowing. It looked so real. Both made me cry, though decades apart.

I have all these instances in my mind. Places that no longer exist. Memories I can never share because they've been wiped off the map. Areas that no longer seem as magical as they once did. Or areas that now break my heart. There are some places, like hospitals, that you grow up thinking you have a pretty good idea of what a hospital looks like. That is until you see hospitals in different countries than your own. Same goes for gas stations/convenience stores and any number of other things.

I think about where you can walk down the street and see history mingling together. Whereas in other places, everything is constantly torn down and rebuilt. I think about cabins I've been inside that are smaller than my bedroom, but housed large families. There's also houses that are even older that are so large I'd get lost in them. The ballroom of one such house looked nothing like what I pictured when reading books. It was tiny. As was the beds and bathing tubs. Extremely tiny. Then I think of the massive cathedrals and castles.

Of course, there's the land. Woods, swamps, forests, and more. All significantly changed in such a short period of time. Smells and sounds just gone. Ecosystems destroyed. Life shifted. Humans with their eyes wide shut. On and on it goes.

Experience is rarely what we think it will be. An open mind allows it to broaden our understanding. So many forces would rather stifle that ability than enhance it. I find myself thinking about that more and more.

This entry isn't going to have a tidy ending. I think that quite suitable, as life usually doesn't. It just keeps transforming and continuing. Alas, how might we change if we could see and feel through another's eyes? What might happen if carrying multiple perspectives became the norm instead of the exception? I wonder. I wander a lot.

(Not edited.)

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

Earlier today I replaced my cat paw industrial with a death moth. I need to change balls, but I'm happy overall. I'd like to find some 3mm rhinestones, but I might get stuck with the 5mm since I sized up from 16g to 14g. I prefer the look of a 16g, but I read a few articles that concern me about migration.

I've had mine for several years now, but when the sadist of a piercer decided to shove a 14g into a two week old irritated piercing without my permission, and shattered the cartilage in my outer ear, let's just say I have concerns. I do have the correct ears for such a piercing, but the guy seriously fucked up. He has no business piercing people. I cannot accurately express how much that hurt. He lied and told me it was because it wasn't healed, then shoved it through the other hole. No taper either. That hurt even worse.

Anyway, that sent me down a rabbit hole of looking at my jewelry. I have a lot of jewelry. I've given away quite a lot, but there were many years where my adornments really meant something to me. I also design and make jewelry, so...

It wouldn't be that big of a deal, except I know that by this time next year, I will likely have much less space. Many of my pieces are made for a specific outfit that I may no longer wear. Others I may melt down and reset. Others I just like but am unlikely to wear.

I need to get real with myself and just give most of it away to someone who might treasure it. I might like certain jewelry, but that doesn't mean current me is going to choose to wear it. I realize I'm pretty predictable and basic in my adornment these days, and I like it that way.

I tend to wear silver toned jewelry. I prefer platinum, rhodium, and titanium, but I also wear sterling and stainless, as well as a few white gold pieces. I keep some yellow gold of each style just in case the outfit demands it.

My industrial is elegant and dainty because I don't enjoy changing it. I keep a range of Celtic styled cuffs. I have three lobe piercings on each ear that I prefer specific threaders, huggers, or studs for. I have flatback studs in every possible color and size. I also have several conch cuffs, but my ear tends to get annoyed with them.

I've gotten pretty particular with my necklace wearing, though I have many. That may change in the future, but it, too, stays pretty simple these days. A dainty chain and specific pendant makes me pretty happy. I can wear chokers or collars, but I find them really annoying unless I weigh about twenty pounds less than I currently do.

Bracelets are easy. I wear specific locked on cuffs almost always. My favorite have the twelve astrology constellations etched into them. They're so pretty. I have all sets in silver and gold. Same goes for anklets. If I'm wearing one it's usually a cuff, bells, or special. I keep considering welding a dainty chain on, but it's not very practical, and stockings would no longer look correct.

Rings...I once wore many rings, but it just feels over-gilded to me now. I have specific rings I wear now, but rarely more than one or two per hand. I don't wear toe rings. Anything else tends to be the same item.

Everything I wear tends to be the same items. So I'm thinking I should really just give it all away. However, much of it is memories, special occasions, and gifts. I don't know. It's a very strange feeling. Much of it, I think I should probably take it apart and add it to my supply hoard.

I froze up and got rid of nothing. There's always next time.

(Not proofread.)

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

“Fairy tales can come true, it can happen to you If you're young at heart For it's hard, you will find, to be narrow of mind If you're young at heart You can go to extremes with impossible schemes You can laugh when your dreams fall apart at the seams And life gets more exciting with each passing day And love is either in your heart, or on its way Don't you know that it's worth every treasure on Earth To be young at heart For as rich as you are, it's much better by far To be young at heart And if you should survive to 105 Look at all you'll derive out of being alive And here is the best part, you have a head start If you are among the very young at heart And if you should survive to 105 Think of all you'll derive out of being alive And here is the best part, you have a head start If you are among the very young at heart” -Frank Sinatra ——— I've never been a Sinatra fan, but this song holds a place in my being. I grew up chasing fairy tales. My life was anything but, yet I believed. I believed with every inch of my being...I think that just comes with the window of time I was born in.

Life has really tested that belief and damn near dared me to stay “young at heart.” Of all the things that have occurred, it is the past decade that has come closest to canceling out that belief. I have experienced the most physical and emotional pain I've ever experienced in my life during this past decade. Each have certainly left their mark.

At the beginning of this past decade, I stood outside of the castle at Disney World with dusk upon us. No. I sat. I was in a wheelchair. That was a bittersweet pill to swallow. However, it meant I was closer to the castle. Fireworks flared, lights danced up and down the turrets, and tears streamed down my cheeks. It was magical. Memory after memory flickered through my mind. It could have been perfect, but it wasn't. The person I was there with was grumpy at best the entire time. I had a lot of realizations on that trip. One day I will return with the correct person and experience it as it should be.

I had a surgery that made me wish for death every minute I was conscious for almost two weeks following. Time moved very slowly then. I was moving out of my home immediately after that into a place I hadn't realized beforehand was going to push my hyperesthesia to the brink. My waking nightmares glitched hard, and I had to apologize to neighbors for screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night, and explain to ignore me and please don't call the police. That was mortifying. I had my first international trip and held my own at international airports by myself without getting overwhelmed. (A small step for others, but a big leap for me at the time.) I got my heart trampled a few times, my reality shattered, my trust annihilated, I got extremely sick, and I learned what isolation really means. Complete and total isolation minus necessary medical appointments that felt like torture...for years.

I lost weight in a healthy manner until I was as small as or smaller than when I went into the military and felt the best I had felt in decades for a few years, and then I went back online and gained it all back. Plus ten pounds or so.

During all of that and more, I managed to stay young at heart for the most part. Or so I told myself. I think a more accurate description would be that I managed to barricade that part of me away as the survivor inside me rose to the surface. Perhaps “partially rose” would be more accurate. Today's society makes it damn challenging to stay “young at heart” for anyone with half a brain and a smidgen of empathy. Damn challenging.

Once upon a time, I had beliefs. Romantic beliefs. Social beliefs. Professional beliefs. Each got immolated. What bit of innocence I had somehow maintained and carried with me was well and fully scoured away. I could feel myself losing the spirit within that I had been so determined to maintain. I was and have become a shell of my former glory in some ways. In other ways, I've grown stronger.

I now find myself standing at a threshold once more. The young-at-heart believer is peering out of my eyes knowing that all of her dreams are possibly about to come true if she will just believe and glow. The survivor is skeptical, but acknowledges the very real probability. I am tired. More so because I realize just how much I've dampened my me. Reigniting is scary.

Most people no longer believe in fairy tales. The thing is, fairy tales were never kind. They were horror stories. You survived them or you didn't. Both results came with extreme life lessons. Life lessons have a way of turning people bitter. Bitter is something I refuse to be. Cynical? Absolutely. A smartass? You betcha! Young at heart? I really hope so.

At this moment, I am frozen. I understand what's possibly happening, and exactly what that means. I am hopeful, but hope is a frightening thing. The world tends to prefer making hopeful things go splat. The upside of going splat is covering everything in your zany belief cooties until all dour hesitation and grumbly gristle-gummers are floating towards clouds of optimism as if someone shoved a helium balloon up their backside. (Please don't do that.)

I suppose it is time to tune my belief back where it belongs. How many flickers does it take to get to the center of a...Oh! There I am...

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

With everyone else documenting it, I might as well, too. A tiny distraction from the disturbance of my current thoughts.

At 8:46 a.m. on September 11, 2001, I was in a Yahoo chat room role-playing an ongoing storyline from my home office. Someone announced it OOC in the room. I moved my laptop to my living room and turned on the television. People were freaking out online. The fear in the newscasters' voices was audible. My mind slipped into its quiet observation mode.

Moments such as that are a curious thing for me. It seems like so many get extremely emotional. For me, time slows down and my mind starts taking in every subtle nuance so as to respond accordingly. The contrast really hit me that day. I would have been 28, though I don't think of myself as that young when I think about the events.

I understood the importance and the tragedy. I did not understand why people over a thousand miles away with no relatives or friends in the immediate area were behaving as if in hysteria. In many ways, I still don't when it comes to such events.

Exactly one decade earlier, I was signed up to be entering boot camp before the end of the year, and the man I was married to was heading back home on a merchant marine vessel. The look on his face when he got home that day in 2001 is something I am unlikely to ever forget.

I find the way people behave today to be unsettling. Especially considering everything that is currently going on. I've witnessed young adults who had not been born yet completely freaked out, yet would not even raise an eyebrow over the current genocide that's been taking place. Nor do they bat an eye at the atrocities the current administration is committing.

I do feel horrible for everyone who lost a family member or was sickened due to the attack. I also feel horrible in our lack of learning from the horrific incidents. And I cannot help but wonder if those who behave in particular ways on this anniversary realize that supporting that idiot in charge and his plague of lemmings is essentially inviting a repeat.

I do think 9/11 was a horrific, avoidable tragedy. Unfortunately, what this country has become since then is equally, if not more horrible.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

Intoxication consumes, —flattening attractiveness —discouraging consideration —drowning all intelligence with a blundering scowl. I watch, bored in a frosty indifference, and listen to the ice clink its trilling toll.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

One of my friends introduced me to 'Dungeon Crawler Carl'. My number finally came up with the libraries on my Libby. (Yes, I most enthusiasticlly participate with as many that will allow me to.) The series is quickly becoming a guilty pleasure. It's cheesy, quirky, filled with nuanced wit, and damn, I love that cat.

Alas, my writing here is likely to be very random for a while. This book makes me grin and laugh, there's a whole series, and it's definitely not AI slop. It's a nice escape from the current idiocy that has become reality.

I have the sound of rain playing throughout my apartment today. I'm working, taking a break to read, and allowing the soothing noise to calm my nerves. The unknown anxiety has really ramped up this past week. When I get like this, something very big usually hits the fan. I'm trying to ignore it since these days that could literally mean anything, and with the state of “leadership” at this time... I am most grateful for the distraction.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

Crumbling flints quake's deciphered roam— Clench fury! Quench crackled! Drench, harvest, and stone. Raze slumped companions to heights dredged as slumber. Bereave bland escape. Confront doorways thrice-plundered.

Asleep past feud's blinking... Awash with earth's sinking... Awake to hate's gravel... Abate torment's rabble...

Curl bones past wooled thickets, and scrape lost eye's drone. Fence rebellion in gurgles that choke, blight, and hone.

Bring us home! Bring us home! Bring us home to the vale! Draw our steps, cold and bearded. Till where journeymen flail. Flag each ridge darned as clusters too slanted to save. Bring us home! Bring us home! Dream us out of wait's grave.

Humble each squint as mistake's churlish loam— Stitch purely! Midge spiteful! Descend, shake, and foam! Barrel traditions ignited to stutter. Beseech rankled fate. Debase unraveled blunder.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

For the majority of this past week, my focus was on Phoebe. I am in a unique position to be able to make that happen, so I did. As I sit here thinking about it, I realize that I was doing more than I consciously really allowed myself to think about. I think I swiftly processed the situation and then started putting in parameters to ensure that she would have the best possible outcome available once I was not there to provide it.

Aside from outside noise, the obnoxious AC, or other people's noise coming through the walls, my apartment is silent most of the time. I will have music playing sometimes, or put on a movie, but that is not the constant. Also, if I'm listening to music I usually have noise-canceling headphones on. For me, I prefer a room as quiet as I can possibly make it, generally speaking. My wind chimes are a constant, both outside and inside my apartment. I find it peaceful. They straight up lower my anxiety levels. I even dangle them from the canopy bar of my bed. Every subtle movement creates an almost imperceptible chime. If I really want it to trill for a bit, I just have to shake my bed. Phoebe really enjoyed that.

I say all of this, because I know that noise can be a big factor with anxiety in cats. They get accustomed to what they are around. I did not know how loud or quiet the environment she would be going into would be. So I did something to try to prepare her as best as I could. The television was on most of the time with various background sounds from a variety of movies and programs. Including those with animals. At certain times I would also play storms so that she could hear thunder, lightning, and rain and not be bothered. Obviously, I could not create the physical sensations of it but at least the sound became predictable for her. A brief pop-up had startled her early on, and made me think on it.

There were a variety of endeavors I sought to teach her. From grooming herself, to not attacking things that might break because most people won't handle that well. To comprehending the effect of her actions. For example, getting her claw stuck in something. Instead of rushing to fix it, I gave her time to figure out how to fix it herself while still being there and supporting her in the effort. After all, it important that she's able to do that and also distinguish danger. She learned part of using a litter box is not pouncing or walking through what she just defecated. At least she's working on it. No point in announcing everything, but I think/hope I was able to seamlessly demonstrate a variety of lessons in our day-to-day interaction and play.

She spent Friday night with my ex, and went to her new forever home on Saturday afternoon after spending the day in my ex's area of his office. He said he closed off the area with cubicle partitions and let her do as she liked inside it. I am told that after about 15 minutes of riding in the car she got curious and started observing as well as playing, and then sleeping in her carrier. That once arriving at where he lives, she ate, used the restroom, explored, investigated him, played, and went to sleep. He says they played quite a bit and she happily pounced and did the little hunting scenarios that is play for cats. He says that she snuggled with him the way our cats would snuggle with him when they chose to sleep beside him. Which was curled up in the crook of his armpit. He, too, has a soft spot for animals. Cats in particular. I'm sure he was also doing what he could to help her thrive.

I have been told she tried to groom his beard a few times, and that she did not once run from nor try to hide from him. And that she intentionally sought out being petted. She does really enjoy being stroked and petted. I am also told that she was a very big hit at work, which I am sure she was, because she is the epitome of cuteness. He said that pretty much everyone came to see her, and that instead of running away or being uncomfortable, she chose to pounce and show affection towards others. He says she got a lot of loving from a variety of people and ate up every second of it as opposed to being scared or nervous by it. That the entire business was eating out of the palm of her paw, including the woman she was going home with.

He also said that she hit it off really well with that woman, and she snuggled and purred away on her chest. He reassured me, again, that it was a very cat-loving home, and that from how the woman spoke of her prior cats that it sounded like she treats her cats in the manner that we treated ours. Which means they are spoiled rotten and family. Not pets. That is everything that I could want for her. So I really hope that it is true. He sent me photos. Her demeanor was very unstressed. So that gives me hope.

One of the many highlights of our time together was her discovery of herself. She likes to climb, and she also liked to play in the litter box if left to her own decision making about it. So I closed the door to my bathroom. She would go to it if she needed to use the restroom. To which I would then open it, and everything would happen. On the bedroom facing side of the door, I have a full length mirror. In front of the door beside one of my bookshelves, I have a closed fabric laundry hamper. I just so happened to have a hard laundry basket on top of it, because sometimes I just leave it there instead of bringing it back to my laundry area. Because she likes to climb, she would climb up the laundry hamper and jump into the plastic basket because it was like a giant slip-and-slide for her. Basically, she could go wild in it. I was very concerned she was going to knock it off, so I put it on the floor for her to go wild in. She still likes to climb, so she did. Which left her with a large space on top of the hamper lid to play on. It also gave her a very clear view of her reflection.

Initially, she did think it was another cat. She approached. She pounced backwards. She did the skitter jump-walk. She batted at it. She meowed for my attention. Etc. I could tell that she didn't quite know what to make of it. That she recognized there was a cat there that wasn't there. At one point, she started trying to look around the other side of the mirror. I stepped in shortly after that.

I picked her up and stood in front of the mirror and demonstrated petting her while continuing to speak to her, and telling her that it was her and me. While she was playing with it prior, I was also telling her that it was her. Once I felt her relax in her observation, I placed her back atop the hamper and let her explore a bit more herself. She walked up to the mirror and placed her paw upon it. She looked back at me then back towards her reflection and at her paw. She walked from one end to the other, watching her reflection. I told her that she was beautiful wasn't she? That she was very smart. And I asked her what she thought of her reflection.

She double-checked again in multiple ways to make sure that it wasn't a real cat. She used her paw upon the mirror in multiple ways, and turned this way and that looking at herself. I watched as realization dawned upon her. I witnessed her exploring her own reflection and comparing what she saw in the mirror to what she saw as she would look at herself. And I heard her happy purrs rev up the more she understood what was happening. When I asked her what she thought about it all, she ran up into my arms and gave my jaw a nip, then looked back over her shoulder at the reflection of the mirror. She seemed exquisitely happy. After that point, she gained some type of confidence that appeared to firmly center her within herself. It was a wonderful thing to witness.

I think that this past week also demonstrated my lack of trust in others, and the depth of my control issues with my environment and various scenarios. I have had to acknowledge, and am still in the act of acknowledging, how much it is driving me insane that I cannot control the outcome of her environment to ensure that she knows only happiness and contentment. I was able to give her some skills to help her adapt, but I have no control over what is occurring where she now is. I admit that the unknown of that is driving me a little bit insane, but I am working through it.

He told me that though I am always in the moment and focus absolutely on who or what is there, that he learned my mind is always at least a dozen steps ahead of that moment subtly adjusting everything for the best possible outcome. I do not think that is actually true. Partially, yes. I do think it's very dependent upon the situation. I also think a lot of it is subconscious, and I don't realize that I do it. I do know that having no way to understand what environment she was going to find herself in has driven me nuts. Preparedness is very important to me. As is the ability to think on the fly. I really hope that she will have both the confidence in herself, and the ability to do those things. I admit that I am still following possibilities through my mind, and contemplating how she might respond.

She is self-aware. Has learned how to demand her outcome and speak up for her wants in a situation. She is fully capable of wrapping a human around her paw just by being her adorable self, and I made sure to hone her hunting instincts a bit more. Obviously, everything still needs practice, but she's been given the encouragement on how to take in a room and either observe or own it. She understands the value of tenderness, and I am pretty sure she has learned that sometimes using her claws is the better reaction.

I think that my lesson in this week has been that we have to sometimes acknowledge that we can only give our best within the parameters of a situation, and that those parameters might suck. I know this. I have known this. Accepting it for myself is much easier than accepting it for someone else. Especially if that someone else is a teeny tiny bundle of fur.

Because I have not slept well, and her departure increased my stress, it should not have surprised me to experience a few hypnagogic hallucinations as I crossed the threshold towards sleep. It is something I do on occasion, though it is infrequent. I have felt my own cats before, and seen them, though they passed on some time ago. I felt her both Friday and Saturday when I went to bed. Both were very brief, but very clear moments.

When these things happen, part of me wishes to believe that it is real. Before I learned about such hallucinations, I did think it was real. Every aspect of sensory stimulation is there. Were I blindfolded and not aware that she actually was not in the room, I would have thought it really happened. The moments feel that real. However, the more I read about the brain, the more I am unable to have such beliefs. Sleep, and the thresholds crossed to and from it, are very intriguing. I am very enamored with understanding reality. The word itself is humorous. That is far too deep of a topic to begin writing on after I've already written so much already.

I think this week has been good for me. Caring for her was without a doubt a precious gift to me. I would not trade it for the world, and I'm really really happy that I got to bathe her in an abundance of love and affection.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

I just said goodbye to Phoebe. I held it together with calm, loving energy until a minute past the door was closed. Still, she was terrified and peed all over the carrier, me, and herself. She hadn't had a single accident until now. I could feel the confusion and terror screaming off of her. Her little meows were pleading with me. She had been asleep on my throat until he arrived because she wanted to receive and give kisses and face nuzzles.

I am devastated. I'm trying to remind myself that she's going to a good home with someone who loves cats and was looking for a new one because hers had passed away in the recent past. My ex says she's a very sweet woman, a few years older than him. I hope she'll be happy and safe.

I could have happily spent the rest of our lives together as we were perfect for each other. I feel like I've betrayed her. I know that I haven't, but I feel like I have.

I'm going to clean my bathroom of the trailing, change my bedding, and shower as this is hitting hard enough that I'm close to hyperventilating. Sometimes picking up on energy and emotions really sucks. I hate myself for causing her that distress and confusion. I'm glad I was here to save her, but I am not happy right now, and I could do real harm to whoever placed her in that situation to begin with. Real harm.

I am blessed to have met her and been shown such love by her, and her to receive mine.

People who intentionally harm animals deserve zero mercy. Sometimes I loathe this world. I need to go center myself.

I love you, Phoebe. Vibrant, tender, trusting, curious, loving soul. I hope that you never lose that spark, and that you are blessed with such an abundant and loving life that everything before it passes from your memory. I will never forget you. Our time together has been brief, but absolutely priceless.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.