If Marcel was still alive, he would be exactly 3 years old today. I really wish I could celebrate his birthday with him. Siberian cats reach their full maturity around this age - but in some cases it takes up to 5 years. It still saddens me that I will never see my beloved pet fully grown.
I don't grieve as much as I did few months back but I think about Marcel every day and I miss him a lot. His unexpected death was by far the most difficult 'goodbye' I had to say in my life. The whole situation was very traumatic - when I left the veterinarian's clinic for the first time, I had Marcel's blood and urine all over my hands and clothes. When I left it for the second time, after an hour, I carried his body in a box. My heart breaks whenever I think that I couldn't comfort him as he passed... My little brother really wanted to see him for the very last time and begged me to take some photos but I would never agree to that. Even a short glance at Marcel's expression suggested that he died in an extreme amount of pain.
I was very hesitant to bury him and I kept putting that off. I couldn't believe he was dead - I know it sounds irrational - yet I hoped for him to wake up. I believed I could see him walk around the house again. Wrap his tail around my legs and purr as usual. But then I remembered his blood test results... Even though Marcel looked completely normal on the outside (except for the face), the poison or Feline Leukemia destroyed him from the inside. For several hours I was in a deep shock, so my mind couldn't even produce any emotions. I fell apart when it came to the burial, though. I am still picking up the pieces but it seems that I can't be the same person after that.
I have yet to experience worse things in my life. I have never lost a close relative - I still have two grandpas and two grandmas. Actually, even three grandmas because there is also an old lady who used to babysit my little bro. Within years we became very attached to each another, to the point we treat her as a family member now. The only relative I had to part with was auntie Irene, who I think passed away in Winter 2014. She wasn't even my auntie but my dad's, yet we all referred to her 'auntie'. I didn't know her very well since we only got to see each other once a year (on Christmas) but I remember she always smiled at me. I'm sure she was a good person and I hope she is in a better place right now.
Marcel's demise altered the relations between me and my family. We're all much closer and that's a whole new experience for me. The only exception is my older brother; he doesn't seem to like any of us... But my parents' support and understanding helped me immensely. We definitely have a long, rocky road behind but they forgave me and I forgave them. None of my family is perfect but we need to stick together and move on. One day we will have to part ways, either me or them, and I don't want to regret anything.
There are more changes, though, and not all of them are positive. I might be wrong linking them to the situation with Marcel but, at the same time, I don't think they would have happened otherwise. For the past few months I have been feeling extremely lethargic: I stay out of reach and I let no one interact with me. You are probably thinking "That's nothing new" and you are absolutely right because I have been doing this all my life. But now I do it consciously and on purpose. I feel like you are better off not talking to me. If you seek friendship, I should always be the last person to think of, I am as distant as I can be. I will never understand why some people like me, yet I feel immensely thankful for you.
I made a Twitter account last September. I intended it to be a personal mini-blog; my goal was to stay in touch with my friends, share my thoughts daily, be more approachable, let people get to know me better, perhaps even meet someone new. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. I genuinely enjoyed Twitter for a while but then, after some time, I felt like I was talking too much. I often get this hunch that I shouldn't post my private life online. This is why I update this blog so rarely - there is A LOT of things I want to share at the beginning, yet I end up not even mentioning them. I admire people that are open, communicative and eager to share their personal experiences with the world. It gives you an opportunity to exchange opinions, be more understood. Then there's me, always carefully choosing the few things I am willing to talk about and the rest I want to conceal. It's not very honest.
I stopped using Twitter to stay more focused on finals. When they ended, I couldn't force myself to use it again and I still can't. I'm not sure what to do with it but I don't want to wipe it out. I decided to delete some of my tweets, though, mainly the ones related to my family. They were true, yet made me very uncomfortable after a while. I removed the previous two posts on this blog for the same reason. Those tirades were really mean and shouldn't have happened at all. For some time now I've been trying not to delete anything that has already been published because - once again - it's a bit dishonest in my case. I was a douche and now I am running away from possible consequences.
Do you want to know why I left deviantART? There were many reasons and I mentioned some of them in my journal. I felt like I didn't fit in, the community was slowly decaying, I was ashamed of my gallery and tired of seeing porn and ponies (and pony porn) on the front page every single day. But one of the most important reasons was that my family found me on there. When I noticed that even my mom's worker was browsing my dA during her lunch break, I had enough. I freak out whenever somebody from my family or their friends asks me to show them my doodles, mostly because it usually leads to a disappointment. I only share my mediocre output with some people online and, occasionally, with my little brother. I always burn/shred my old sketches since I don't want anyone to find them.
Sometimes I miss art communities or tumblr. I have so many good memories with those - but I think that, for now, the best option is to stick with this blog. I love it because almost nobody knows about its existence. It's pointless for me to make new accounts on community sites since I'm going to abandon them sooner or later... Attention stresses me out way more than it should; the fact I had more than 100 followers on tumblr was one of the reasons that convinced me to delete it. I know it sounds odd, just take it as one more proof for the lack of sanity in my mind. I prefer to be unknown because it means less people to let down. I usually don't want to be noticed or remembered, all the world can pass me by.
Anyway, I don't like where this post is going, so I'd better change the subject. I figured out I haven't introduced my new cats properly on this blog, so I'll do it now:
This is Marston. Some of his nicknames are: John, Jose Marsti, Mijo and Old Man. He is a gift from my family - my mom and grandma paid for him, while my dad drove me to the cattery to pick him up. Marston is 1 year old and a Siberian cat, just like his predecessor. The pain after losing Marcel would have been unbearable if I didn't have him! We aren't soul mates but we definitely are good friends. Not everyone likes Marston because he is kind of standoffish and not very playful but personally I don't mind that. He is extremely mellow - won't scratch nor bite you no matter what you do to him, which makes him great with kids. He is not very respectful, though, and doesn't see anything wrong in stealing food from your plate, sitting on you or walking over you.
Unfortunately, I need to point out Marston has some behavioural and health problems... He has a huge obsession with eating and will eat everything in sight, including inedible stuff (like plastic foil pieces, dust, hairballs, tea bags, rubber bands, cotton tips, toothpicks etc.). He drinks dirty water from our sink. I make sure not to leave any water in my dishes and I keep small objects out of his reach, yet he is beyond my control when I'm out. If that wasn't enough, Marston's stomach is very sensitive, so his bad eating habits result in chronic diarrhea. No veterinarian was able to help him so far. What I'm currently doing is trying out different cat food brands in an attempt to find the best option for him.
Aside from that, he isn't troublesome. I like to be in his company because he is rather quiet and gentle. He is the lazy type of cat, which is definitely my favourite. My cousin keeps saying that Marston is grumpy but I don't think so. He is a single owner pet and doesn't show affection to anyone except for me and his little foster sister. Not that he is very affectionate - he used to be like that only as a kitten - but, once again, I don't mind since I'm not a big fan of lap cats. Marston is an oddball - the good kind!
And here's Dimka, pronounced: Deemka. Some of her nicknames are: Dim-Dim, Baby, Sock and Princess. This photo was taken a while ago - she got bigger since then and her markings darkened, and she is currently 6 months old. Dimka is a Neva Masquerade Siberian, meaning that Siamese or Birman cats were some of her remote ancestors. And it shows! She is the most vocal, cuddly and love-demanding cat I've ever met in my life. She shrieks 24/7 and will go to any lengths to get attention but she is downright adorable. I feel lucky to have her as a pet.
I bought her (from a different breeder) to provide company for Marston and I definitely don't regret my decision. Marston's behaviour changed a lot since her appearance and now he is very parental and protective of her, which is great. I am kinda bummed they don't play together as often as I hoped for but otherwise they are good pals. They don't seem to find a common ground while playing, yet they groom each other and sleep together. They never fight over food, too.
Everyone likes Dimka because she is so cute and loves to play. She isn't crazy about strangers, though, and I'm actually grateful for that. I've heard quite a few people say "I want to steal her from you" - it was obviously a joke, but still. Like most Siberians, she is also a single owner pet and I am the only person she loves to bits. She is sweet, active, intelligent and a bit mischievous at times but it's impossible to stay mad at her. I like her the way she is but I won't lie, I can't wait until she's spayed and a bit more static, haha. I love it when she sleeps - she curls up next to me in my bed and purrs very loudly. Dimka reminds me of Kreska a little and sometimes I call her so by mistake.
There are more changes, though, and not all of them are positive. I might be wrong linking them to the situation with Marcel but, at the same time, I don't think they would have happened otherwise. For the past few months I have been feeling extremely lethargic: I stay out of reach and I let no one interact with me. You are probably thinking "That's nothing new" and you are absolutely right because I have been doing this all my life. But now I do it consciously and on purpose. I feel like you are better off not talking to me. If you seek friendship, I should always be the last person to think of, I am as distant as I can be. I will never understand why some people like me, yet I feel immensely thankful for you.
I made a Twitter account last September. I intended it to be a personal mini-blog; my goal was to stay in touch with my friends, share my thoughts daily, be more approachable, let people get to know me better, perhaps even meet someone new. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. I genuinely enjoyed Twitter for a while but then, after some time, I felt like I was talking too much. I often get this hunch that I shouldn't post my private life online. This is why I update this blog so rarely - there is A LOT of things I want to share at the beginning, yet I end up not even mentioning them. I admire people that are open, communicative and eager to share their personal experiences with the world. It gives you an opportunity to exchange opinions, be more understood. Then there's me, always carefully choosing the few things I am willing to talk about and the rest I want to conceal. It's not very honest.
I stopped using Twitter to stay more focused on finals. When they ended, I couldn't force myself to use it again and I still can't. I'm not sure what to do with it but I don't want to wipe it out. I decided to delete some of my tweets, though, mainly the ones related to my family. They were true, yet made me very uncomfortable after a while. I removed the previous two posts on this blog for the same reason. Those tirades were really mean and shouldn't have happened at all. For some time now I've been trying not to delete anything that has already been published because - once again - it's a bit dishonest in my case. I was a douche and now I am running away from possible consequences.
Do you want to know why I left deviantART? There were many reasons and I mentioned some of them in my journal. I felt like I didn't fit in, the community was slowly decaying, I was ashamed of my gallery and tired of seeing porn and ponies (and pony porn) on the front page every single day. But one of the most important reasons was that my family found me on there. When I noticed that even my mom's worker was browsing my dA during her lunch break, I had enough. I freak out whenever somebody from my family or their friends asks me to show them my doodles, mostly because it usually leads to a disappointment. I only share my mediocre output with some people online and, occasionally, with my little brother. I always burn/shred my old sketches since I don't want anyone to find them.
Sometimes I miss art communities or tumblr. I have so many good memories with those - but I think that, for now, the best option is to stick with this blog. I love it because almost nobody knows about its existence. It's pointless for me to make new accounts on community sites since I'm going to abandon them sooner or later... Attention stresses me out way more than it should; the fact I had more than 100 followers on tumblr was one of the reasons that convinced me to delete it. I know it sounds odd, just take it as one more proof for the lack of sanity in my mind. I prefer to be unknown because it means less people to let down. I usually don't want to be noticed or remembered, all the world can pass me by.
Anyway, I don't like where this post is going, so I'd better change the subject. I figured out I haven't introduced my new cats properly on this blog, so I'll do it now:
This is Marston. Some of his nicknames are: John, Jose Marsti, Mijo and Old Man. He is a gift from my family - my mom and grandma paid for him, while my dad drove me to the cattery to pick him up. Marston is 1 year old and a Siberian cat, just like his predecessor. The pain after losing Marcel would have been unbearable if I didn't have him! We aren't soul mates but we definitely are good friends. Not everyone likes Marston because he is kind of standoffish and not very playful but personally I don't mind that. He is extremely mellow - won't scratch nor bite you no matter what you do to him, which makes him great with kids. He is not very respectful, though, and doesn't see anything wrong in stealing food from your plate, sitting on you or walking over you.
Unfortunately, I need to point out Marston has some behavioural and health problems... He has a huge obsession with eating and will eat everything in sight, including inedible stuff (like plastic foil pieces, dust, hairballs, tea bags, rubber bands, cotton tips, toothpicks etc.). He drinks dirty water from our sink. I make sure not to leave any water in my dishes and I keep small objects out of his reach, yet he is beyond my control when I'm out. If that wasn't enough, Marston's stomach is very sensitive, so his bad eating habits result in chronic diarrhea. No veterinarian was able to help him so far. What I'm currently doing is trying out different cat food brands in an attempt to find the best option for him.
Aside from that, he isn't troublesome. I like to be in his company because he is rather quiet and gentle. He is the lazy type of cat, which is definitely my favourite. My cousin keeps saying that Marston is grumpy but I don't think so. He is a single owner pet and doesn't show affection to anyone except for me and his little foster sister. Not that he is very affectionate - he used to be like that only as a kitten - but, once again, I don't mind since I'm not a big fan of lap cats. Marston is an oddball - the good kind!
And here's Dimka, pronounced: Deemka. Some of her nicknames are: Dim-Dim, Baby, Sock and Princess. This photo was taken a while ago - she got bigger since then and her markings darkened, and she is currently 6 months old. Dimka is a Neva Masquerade Siberian, meaning that Siamese or Birman cats were some of her remote ancestors. And it shows! She is the most vocal, cuddly and love-demanding cat I've ever met in my life. She shrieks 24/7 and will go to any lengths to get attention but she is downright adorable. I feel lucky to have her as a pet.
I bought her (from a different breeder) to provide company for Marston and I definitely don't regret my decision. Marston's behaviour changed a lot since her appearance and now he is very parental and protective of her, which is great. I am kinda bummed they don't play together as often as I hoped for but otherwise they are good pals. They don't seem to find a common ground while playing, yet they groom each other and sleep together. They never fight over food, too.
Everyone likes Dimka because she is so cute and loves to play. She isn't crazy about strangers, though, and I'm actually grateful for that. I've heard quite a few people say "I want to steal her from you" - it was obviously a joke, but still. Like most Siberians, she is also a single owner pet and I am the only person she loves to bits. She is sweet, active, intelligent and a bit mischievous at times but it's impossible to stay mad at her. I like her the way she is but I won't lie, I can't wait until she's spayed and a bit more static, haha. I love it when she sleeps - she curls up next to me in my bed and purrs very loudly. Dimka reminds me of Kreska a little and sometimes I call her so by mistake.
*
Before I end, look at something my little brother sent me yesterday:
SO proud of him. I think it's really good - not long ago he wasn't able to draw anything else than stickmen! I hope he will keep practising!
