Brought to you by Superstition

My rat died last night. It was time for him to go, so I took him. Stephanie had to come with me, I couldn't do it. I'm being vague because I had to sneak into the premises to use their facilities. End the chapter to Llama's life. He was a good rat: answered to calls, was a fierce cuddlier, and always made that cute face when he wanted lovings. I will miss my dear baby, but I am not sad. 

Here's how I've rationalized it. I shouldn't be sad, it's selfish of myself. Instead, I should rejoice in the good life he's had and the next life he will live. This death is just a means to facilitate the growth of a soul. Maybe he's a young soul. Maybe he was an old soul that needed this experience before completion. I'll never know this truth, it's not time for me to know. I'll just keep on and he'll continue on his path to nirvana.

It was also my brothers birthday - which I forgot about entirely. 

I am still concerned and have been watching my steps carefully. A dread hangs in my intuition and my eye's been twitching. A Chinese superstition, my pulsing vein in my lid speaks of something. A forewarning of ... something. What I know is the feeling that accompanies it. I'm worried, but it's based on nothing. I also fear that these worries will somehow manifest into real concerns. I got a call from my dad. Medical debt. I'll deal with it tomorrow, but not right now. I don't know if these ties can be dissolved. Oi. 

I am dreadfully superstitious. For example, while mulling over how to care for sick little Llama, I noticed Dali has gotten fat and wondered if something was at work here. I once scoffed at the Devil and now he will defend himself. Messages are hidden in cracks in the sidewalk. If you read them right you could save your back. 

Demons. Monsters. Ghost. They live inside us and are only seen by the expert eye. Most none of us pay attention to the things that hang around behind our vision, but they linger and color the world in shades of ruin. Mishaps, missed steps. I don't think anything is left up to accident. Coincidence is the product of a finely executed plan. 

I will call my grandmother tomorrow and ask her advice. She told me months ago to hang red in the east and leave something by the window. I normally wouldn't be so skittish but my eye has persisted for a day now. One can never be too sorry.