Happy And Alone, You Say? Reclusive And

I'm Still Prone To Periods Of Isolation, Still More Fearful Of The World Out There And More Averse To Pleasure And Risk Than I'd Like To Be; I Still Direct More Energy Toward Controlling And Minimizing Appetites Than Toward Indulging Them.

Dogs Possess A Quality That's Rare Among Humans -- The Ability To Make You Feel Valued Just By Being You -- And It Was Something Of A Miracle To Me To Be On The Receiving End Of All That Acceptance. The Dog Didn't Care What I Looked Like, Or What I Did For A Living, Or What A Train Wreck Of A Life I'd Led Before I Got Her, Or What We Did From Day To Day. She Just Wanted To Be With Me, And That Awareness Gave Me A Singular Sensation Of Delight.

The Dog’s Agenda Is Simple, Fathomable, Overt: I Want. “i Want To Go Out, Come In, Eat Something, Lie Here, Play With That, Kiss You. There Are No Ulterior Motives With A Dog, No Mind Games, No Second-guessing, No Complicated Negotiations Or Bargains, And No Guilt Trips Or Grudges If A Request Is Denied.

I've Always Been Drawn To Solitude, Felt A Kind Of Luxurious Relief In Its Self-generated Pace And Rhythms.

Our Culture Thrives On Black-and-white Narratives, Clearly Defined Emotions, Easy Endings, And So, This Thrust Into Complexity Exhausts.