|From Gulaley the pink cotton candy|
A cat that loves to purr doesn’t catch mice; the saying goes. Neither does a dead cat.
The news of death instantly stuns consciousness to a standstill. Its momentum freezes everything. Blood flushes out from the head, following the force of gravity. Disbelief -- a self-created shield reflects the momentum. Denial -- an absorbent to dampen oscillation in Disbelief.
Outside, the stunned’s awareness seems lost in space. Motion is paralyzed. Mind is in coma.
The heart grows hollow; the contents drawn into a black hole. A painful void sums up inside the chest, alternately appears and disappears at intervals before agonizing ripping.
The void and ripping reiterate as memories of the lost loved ones flicker. Indescribable agony substitutes the lost.
I can feel your lost. Care to feel mine?
Ignorance is bliss; some say. Can it be ignored?
A lazy cat won’t even catch a dead mouse; the saying goes.
You don’t care to feel my lost. Are you lazy? Or are you dead?