Like an Animal
It was at a totally meaningless point in my life that I realized that the world everyone lived in, was for me, something strange. I was a stranger in this world, where all the animals forgot they were animals, instead scurrying around trying to feed the illusion that eventually they wouldn't just disappear like some flake of dust. Like that cat nobody knew had died, or cared, or even knew had existed. Every single person was just like that cat, and somewhere, deep down, they all knew that, but refused to believe it. Because it was something scary to know that something could just disappear so easily, and even more so to accept it. If you accepted it, it meant you were okay with it and how could someone be okay with the universe forgetting you ever existed?
Kubota clutched the metal ropes of the swing and leaned back, staring up at the angry sky from behind his glasses, bobbing the cigarette in between his lips.
Because nobody has ever existed in the sense that everybody means it. They think they are something special, think that they were given a blessing, an unique ability to think and comprehend the world around them, but that doesn't mean anything. Because we're still animals, regardless what we say or think. In fact, we're sick animals, clinging to life and throwing everything off balance because of it. We can't even tell apart the things we need to survive from the things that are killing us slowly anymore. Our minds were given to us by nature, but that means we're still a part of her, regardless of how misguided… which means, we are the cat that will cease to exist once we die. And there is nothing that can change that.
The gentle creaking of the swing set filled the abandoned park. Humidity wafted around Kubota on that midsummer day. Somewhere, a small plop and a dark spot appeared on the dirt, swelling up with dust before sinking into the ground. Suddenly, the entire world was a dark spot as the rain came down in sheets. Kubota didn't move, staring up into the sky.
We are the Animals running for shelter from the rain. Except we don't want just shelter, we want to stop the rain. Forever. And everything will shrivel up and waste away because of our egocentric desire to never be forgotten. And unrealistic wish of an animal that forgot it's an animal. An Animal that wants to live forever, but has forgotten how to live. The animal that wants to exist after it's died. The one and only mistake God has ever made was to…
"What are you doing?" Kubota blinked and leaded further back, tipping his head back and blinking at a horribly out of proportioned Tokitoh, who was scowling down at him, holding an umbrella over his shoulder with one hand and resting a fist on one hip. He waited patiently for a reply.
"Well…" Kubota started, chewing on his soggy cigarette, "I'd think it was rather obvious…" Tokitoh snorted and glared at him as if he was trying to read Kubota's mind. After a minute he snorted again and shoved Kubota's head, pushing him more upright rather unpleasantly.
"You're being stupid. You really do need me." With that, Tokitoh swung around and in front and grabbed on of Kubota's wrists, pulling him to his feet. Kubota smiled a little, humming in agreement.
"Com'on, let's go home," Tokitoh announced and began promptly dragging the older man towards their apartment. Kubota followed obediently, listening patiently and humming in agreement every few moments as Tokitoh laid out plans and possibilities about their dinner that night. Together, they trudged through the rain and when they got home, Tokitoh made him take a shower and then towel dried Kubota's hair. They ended up ordering Chinese take out because neither of them really felt like cooking after all and then they played video games, which Tokitoh lost of course. Soon after that Tokitoh went to bed while Kubota smoked one last cigarette on the balcony, staring at the rain.
Climbing into the bed next to the already deep asleep Tokitoh, Kubota folded his arms behind his head and listened to the soft breathing of the stray he'd taken in, staring at the ceiling.
Everyone wants to prove to everyone that they existed after they've died. They forget to try to make anyone realize they exist when they're alive.
XXX
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