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PassiveAgressive
Sleepy-_-kinoko!




Registered: 10/16/09
Posts: 924
Loc: Tueri honorare saltus
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Victims of the resession.
#11608924 - 12/08/09 05:50 AM (14 years, 1 month ago) |
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It was snowing the other day as it has been for quite some time now. I like to think on the place I live as I would think of the Northern West Coast, cloud cast and precipitous. The place I live is only a few days of cloud cover from the ominous status as that of our more Western friends. Regardless, the place I live is often times held as depressing and overbearingly bleak and harsh, cold and repressive.
As I said, it was snowing the other day. I woke and turned on the computer to read the news and to see how the Shroomery was doing. Shortly thereafter I ate breakfast and made coffee before my daily foray into the real world. I found my jacket, I found my gloves. On the step were my boots and car keys. I ignored the car keys. Walking seems more important this day, many people fail to walk. That isn't me.
I stepped into the snow then walked down the block, up the hill, around the corner, across the lawn, through the alley, over the parking lot to the door step of my friends apartment. I knocked on the door and there was no answer, so as is my custom I opened the door and walked into the darkened apartment and went to the only closed door in the place. I knocked softly and there was a reply. I opened the door, turned on the light and offered an early morning, "hello."
My friend was waking up and getting dressed while I made coffee, this time for the both of us. I perhaps turned to see that it was still snowing. I could hardly be surprised. It still snows even as I sit here and type this account.
That morning time rolled on as time will. Meaningless things transpired here while meaningful things transpired elsewhere. After a meandering hour my friend and I agreed to go out into the real world together. Alone is almost too hard to do these days. We climbed into a rusty Bronco and my friend turned the key. The engine responded in it's antiquated way, with much gurgling and backtalk. Finally the ancient beast consented and we were off down the road and into the unknown. I say unkown not because of the snow and the chance that because we are driving we may well die doing it, no. I say unknown because there is no way for myself to know how I would be impacted today. There surely was no way to predict the circumstances.
Five minutes later the bronco slowed to a stop in front of a mock-Victorian, dilapidated three story house. The prior owners had no intentions of making a profit. I assume they wanted only to get the hell out of this place. Up the short set of exterior stairs to the door. We spent many minutes knocking, waiting for an answer which would not come from the door, but from another place entirely. As we strode back to the bronco our collective ears happened upon a noise. We disreguarded it as it was breif and was not followed by another sound of it's kind. Then we heard it again. This time it lent itself to be found. I am sorry for my curiosity now as it was I who came to this cruel discovery.
There, in the back of our mutual friends pickup truck was small trash bag tied neatly into a knot. This was the source of the sound. I could not resist, I had to look. I had to know as ignorance is not an option. I pounced into the bed of the truck and began to to untie the knot. As I did my friend begged that I leave the bag alone. I continued to undo the knot. Finally, after working a few moments in the snow and cold, the knot would be undone. There was another knot. Another bag. The bag moved and made another pathetic noise as I set to work again. This frightened me and I hesitated thinking there could be a rabies risk. Steeling my self I chose to trudge on. Finally the bag was open and there was a corpse. The smell was horrid, not unfamiliar to me. In this bag lay 2 or 3 kittens, their bodies destroyed and bleeding. I looked in horror down upon one of them who was not moving. Beneath this kitten must have been at least one more as it was mewing weakly, begging that something alleviate it from it's horror. It lay in the bottom of these bags broken and alone, cold and suffering begging of the un-hearing to rescue it.
I could do scarcely anything more than to put myself in it's shoes. To feel the broken ribs stifling my breathing was only the start. The fear was immense and seemed only possible that an advanced life form like human could conjure the imagery necessary for this type of horror. I can only really imagine what this was like. The horror.
I later came to find out that the kittens were slain on account of a health inspector was coming through. I do not fully understand the series of events which led to this massacre on miniature, nor do I care. It was wrong. Those life forms had done NOTHING to deserve their fate. I am now suffering with the knowledge I have gained. It haunts me and I feel as though I am being haunted by those kittens. Perhaps I am going crazy finally, I knew it would happen eventually. That aside, the scene was less than civil, I promise. I don't go to church and haven't in a long, long time, but I did take note that it was Sunday and people were at church.
This was the point when the real feeling of the recession washed over me completely. This is when I knew things were bad as I suspect the reason for the killings was to save coin. Why hadn't they attempted to give them away? Why hadn't they waited for a home? Why did I have to look in the bag? Why couldn't I have ignored it as my friend requested? Because I am human.
It seems only sensible to think of people as the victims of the recession, not that we're not. I may as well say we are victims whether we admit it to ourselves or not. We are victims no matter how loudly we sound off or how independent we are led to believe. As humans we have the ability to change things for ourselves. We have the ability to do what must be done to keep ourselves sane and whole, safe and loved. We are lucky to be human and should share happiness, not suffering.
Think what you may of me now, I don't care. The only thing I meant by posting this was to talk about it in hopes I can release the pain I share with those cats. I don't even like cats myself, but I cannot ignore the nature of this crime. I keep this to myself other than those who choose to read this lengthy letter. Thank you for your time. May your December begin in a more festive manner. Good day.
-------------------- (\___/) (= ‘.’=) (”)__(”) Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared. - Prince Gautama Siddharta, the founder of Buddhism, 563-483 B.C.
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Vibes
Good Vibes


Registered: 07/07/09
Posts: 3,384
Loc:
Last seen: 9 years, 6 months
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Should have put that cat out of its misery, it was clearly suffering.
Completely disgusting and wrong what he did.
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Good Vibes
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PassiveAgressive
Sleepy-_-kinoko!




Registered: 10/16/09
Posts: 924
Loc: Tueri honorare saltus
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Re: Victims of the resession. [Re: Vibes]
#11608996 - 12/08/09 06:20 AM (14 years, 1 month ago) |
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Quote:
Vibes said:
Should have put that cat out of its misery, it was clearly suffering.
Completely disgusting and wrong what he did.

I didn't have the heart to do it even though the situation was what it was. I am not an agent of death, nor is morally acceptable of me to kill. I could do nothing but stare into the bag
This is still with me. I don't know if I have the heart to let it die out. I'm in a bad way. Is it so wrong of me to focus on returning the Karma to the perpetrator(s)? I will meditate upon this until I am satisfied this act and others like it will be visited upon.
Thankyou for sharing in my pain.
-------------------- (\___/) (= ‘.’=) (”)__(”) Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared. - Prince Gautama Siddharta, the founder of Buddhism, 563-483 B.C.
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Maurer


Registered: 11/21/09
Posts: 5,203
Last seen: 12 years, 1 month
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So did this get reported?
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ShockValue
Because, ShockValue.


Registered: 11/18/08
Posts: 5,097
Loc: Tipping at windmills.
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Re: Victims of the resession. [Re: Maurer]
#11609205 - 12/08/09 12:35 PM (14 years, 1 month ago) |
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edit
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- When we built temples to view the stars, we knew about all 2000 of them.
Edited by ShockValue (12/08/09 12:37 PM)
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PassiveAgressive
Sleepy-_-kinoko!




Registered: 10/16/09
Posts: 924
Loc: Tueri honorare saltus
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Re: Victims of the resession. [Re: Maurer]
#11617083 - 12/09/09 01:29 PM (14 years, 1 month ago) |
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Quote:
Maurer said: So did this get reported?
No. I usually will not report people for crimes as i myself do not wish to be reported. In this case I'm doing all that I can to see karma served. I meditate daily on the issue. FYI - The person who owned the cats lost his job yesterday by being involved in a traffic accident and was found with THC in his system.
I do not speak to the man.
-------------------- (\___/) (= ‘.’=) (”)__(”) Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared. - Prince Gautama Siddharta, the founder of Buddhism, 563-483 B.C.
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PassiveAgressive
Sleepy-_-kinoko!




Registered: 10/16/09
Posts: 924
Loc: Tueri honorare saltus
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Re: Victims of the resession. [Re: ShockValue]
#11617090 - 12/09/09 01:30 PM (14 years, 1 month ago) |
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Quote:
ShockValue said:
edit
Go away
-------------------- (\___/) (= ‘.’=) (”)__(”) Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared. - Prince Gautama Siddharta, the founder of Buddhism, 563-483 B.C.
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