Character assassination

August 30, 2014

I think it was 2006 when a cat that didn't seem to have a home ran up to me in a field and jumped on my back.  I was out for a walk, near the end of the summer.  She appeared, seemingly from nowhere. She saw me, her eyes lit up, and she ran over to me and leapt onto my back.  She sat there purring for a few seconds, then jumped off.

She then started to jump high into the air, trying to catch insects with her paws.

This was in Vermont, where winter arrives early, is significantly unignorable, then leaves late.

I took the cat to my apartment, made a few, feeble attempts to get someone to give her a home, and then admitted what a lot of people have to admit when they think they are rescuing strays, which was that I was adopting a cat.

I gave her the name of the female protagonist of a children's book that I had liked a lot, and also of an American heroine.

Being homeless, and mercilessly tormented in the apartment that I did have for a year, from March 2013 to February 2014, I haven't seen her in 4 years.

I am nothing like what the conglomerate wants the world to believe I am.  There's no evil or disgusting thing that someone, somewhere won't believe of me, because of the conglomerate's ceaseless character assassination.

There doesn't seem to be anything that the conglomerate likes more than to try to pervert the most innocent things, or to try to make people believe perverted lies.


Copyright L. Kochman, August 30, 2014 @ 3:17 p.m./title edited August 31, 2014 @ 6:54 a.m.