(no subject)
"By first believing in Santa Claus, then the Easter Bunny, then the Tooth Fairy, Rant Casey was recognizing that those myths are more than pretty stories or traditions to delight children. Or to modify behavior. Each of those three traditions asks a child to believe in the impossible in exchange for a reward. These are stepped-up tests to build a child's faith and imagination. The first test is to believe in a magical person with toys as the reward. The second test is to trust in a magical animal, with candy as the reward. The last test is the most difficult, with the most abstract reward: To believe, trust in a flying fairy that will leave money.
From a man to an animal to a fairy.
From toys to candy to money. Thus, interestingly enough, transferring the magic of faith and trust from sparkling fairydom to clumsy, tarnished coins. From gossamer wings to nickels... dimes... and quarters.
In this way, a child is stepped up to greater feats of imagination and faith as he or she matures. Beginning with Santa in infancy, and ending with the Tooth Fairy as the child acquires adult teeth. Or, plainly put, beginning with all the possibilities of childhood, and ending with an absolute trust in the national currency."
In real life though, Diego has become amazing. Over the past few weeks he's evolved into a big sweetheart that likes to play with me. Play with me as in, "actually jump on me and try to wrestle me" play with me. When I feed him at night, he'll grab my hand with his and try to pull me into his cage. Often he'll try to sink his teeth into the webbing between my thumb and forefinger, or underneath the nail of my middle finger. Either he's trying to pull me in to play with me, trying to pull me in and trap me in there for once because he thinks I'm a dick, or he's trying to rape me. I'm not sure which one, but I'm pretty certain that it's both the second and third. He'll still give everyone else an evil-eye, but that's because he's my horcrux. I also bought him a new brand of Timothy hay. This kind has longer strands and flowering heads, which he goes crazy for. He also runs on his new wheel all the time now.
I've started to redecorate the apartment. I'm taking it back and making it mine again. For the longest time, it was "ours." Then it was "ours, but with her shit gone and she's not coming back." The walls looked barren and white, so I've put color on them. Hung some things up. I'm taking it back and making it mine again. Like a lot of other things, movies for one. I still can't sleep in my bed, though. My bed. It's still ruined for me, so I sleep on the couch now. I'm hastily hitting the delete key in my brain. Think Eternal Sunshine. I need to get to a point of feeling nothing at all. I'm feeling a lot better with myself. I'm happier these days. I don't read her journal, or visit her myspace, or keep friends with her on any other online communities. The medication is working, so there's no point in getting off of it. I never want to hate her, but I sure can't go on loving her. If there's any chance she and I are to be friends again, I need to feel absolutely nothing for her first. But after that, will I even want to?