Sometimes I lose sight of why I started this Twitter journey and how
Olde Yeller Cat came to be. We're all here for our own reasons:
loneliness, broken relationships, escape from the boredom of being
alone, trying to promote our writing, searching for expression in
poetry, photography, art, or sharing our expertise in psychology, and
business, or simply as an easy way to let folks keep track of us.
My name is Henry. Olde Yeller was an alley
cat I came to love; she isn't around anymore, or if she is she's looking
down from her cat heaven. The following paragraph is from our first blog; it gives you a look at our beginning.
Just
like the skinny olde alley cat that was trying to rub breakfast out of
my kitchen door we often barge into each others lives uninvited; we
don't mean to be intrusive, sometimes we're just hungry, or cold or just looking for someone with whom to share our lives, our misery, our good
fortune, or a meal. Hungry, cold, critters, and folks for that matter,
don't have any politics, or religion, or views on how to save the
world, or how to cure its ills, that all comes later after our hunger,
and needs are taken care of, until then we're all the same. Maybe that's
what we're missing, all of us, for just a few moments, being like that
skinny olde alley cat rubbing on a strage kitchen door asking to be
part of a strangers world.
Hi Henry,
ReplyDeleteMy name is Rick. I've commented here before. This is a pretty long comment, just about as long as your post, sorry!
But you touched something, and I wanted to give you some real feedback.
I kept you in my newsreader even though you hadn't posted in a while. I had a feeling you'd be back. I kept following you on Twitter too, even after I'd stopped tweeting and you dropped me. (Not complaining. I understand, but it's RGCrockett01)
That's a fine list you came up with. "We're all here for our own reasons: loneliness, broken relationships, escape from the boredom of being alone, trying to promote our writing, searching for expression in poetry, photography, art, or sharing our expertise in psychology, and business, or simply as an easy way to let folks keep track of us."
I'd have to say that for me there's something to every point, whether a little or a lot.
There's something about the way you write that appeals to me. You probably will not feel comfortable with too high a compliment, but I'll give it to you anyway. You don't have to walk around barefoot and wearing sackcloth, and you don't have to be a high brow academic on the lecture circuit to be a philosopher; you just have to look at things. I like your honesty.
At one point, I wondered, "Why am I blogging? Why am I tweeting?"
Not finding any good answer, I stopped. Then, one day, a guy with an art gallery told me that I needed a website with my work on it, and not having one marked me as a fake; further, artists and writers are expected to build their own following--"platform" they call it. Those were good enough reasons to make me want to essay the public fires again.
Once I accepted the challenge, it became an interesting game, and it enlivened my life. Certainly, I've made a lot more friends than I've made enemies. That's good enough for me.
Cheers,
Rick
Gosh I love this story and the ending is poignant and perfect... Maybe that's what we're missing, all of us, for just a few moments, being like that skinny olde alley cat rubbing on a strange kitchen door asking to be part of a strangers world.
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