“A dog has the soul of a philosopher.”

As said by Plato.
I have so much to say and nothing at all. I've been writing out my pain in a little book. Which some will be posted here. I had to get out of the house yesterday to be alone and obviously to avoid the sanctuary that is my room that I shared with Sparky. I went to a park that I haven't been to in years, I used to go there with an ex-boyfriend and we would watch the sun set. Well now, the damn park is undergoing some sort of construction or something because it is now all fenced off, at least the part that surrounds the lake. There were other parts, but not parts that I wanted to go to. But, I went nonetheless and sat down and started to write. It was freezing but I endured about 3 hours there and decided I wanted to go see a movie. I went to the one of our big and busiest malls to see The Men Who Stare At Goats. For some reason the mentioning of death of animals in film finally bothered me, just a little. Like a pinch to my heart. The movie wasn't as good as I thought it would be, and I am positive it wasn't my mood that ruined it. I'm a bit numb when I'm not home, I'm still smiling and normal, but I feel different. I feel this hole. I still have this overall sadness, but I kind of forgot what it was when I was walking to my car after the movie. I was thinking how I couldn't wait to go home and cuddle with Sparky. He always makes me feel better. Then it hit me. Hard.
Basically, I'm crying off and on. It's easier when I'm alone and not talking. But I get weak when I talk and choke up, hence why I don't want to be around people right now. It's not that I don't have a problem talking about it. But I really, just don't feel like being comforted. I don't want to hear the words I already know. I know that it is good for him. That's why I agreed to do it! I accept death and the death. It's the adjusting that is my problem. Sparky is absolutely engraved into my life. Every goddamn fucking thing I did, especially at home, involved him absolutely. He was my life, my sunshine, my love, my everything. Some people may understand, some people may not. He is the only obsession I have that I actually repress somewhat publicly. And that's saying a lot. In fact, I believe the first tattoo I ever wanted was his name in big font across my shoulders. Yeah. He has been that much a part of my life for the last 13 years. He did everything with me here, he slept with me...he was always by my side. My empty bed is the worst of it. I'm going to be crying myself to sleep and crying myself awake for some time now. I don't think it helped that I started reading The Lovely Bones last night either. So far, I like the book, you may recognize the title because they are soon to be releasing the film adaptation for it.

I just remembered something else, somewhat related. One of my favorite movies when I was younger, that always made me cry was All Dogs Go to Heaven.

Well today, marks the Sun moving into Sagittarius, however, depending on the year that an individual is born, some of these may still be Scorpios. This is the last day I'll do this. So, happy birthday to Scorpio/Sagittarius Bjork and Rain Phoenix.

I promise not all my posts will be depressing, but I cannot promise coherency.