Of Cats And Vivid Demands

“Cats don’t speak,” My Mother repeatedly told me. She had realized that from a very young age I had a keen interest in finding out what secret thoughts my feline friends guarded behind their whiskers.

“Then why do they look as if they have so much to tell?” I had, in turn, confronted.

You feel it too, don’t you? It’s in the way they look at you. They fix you with their gaze, break all your hidden doors, rattle your soul and then look away as if mocking you for considering they could ever give you their time of the day.

They look through you, not at you and in the rare cases that they do, the felines stalk your silhouette like dormant predators. They’re not interested in your dreams nor your troubles and yet, I remember once coming home to my friend’s house crying my eyes out and her cat jumping into my lap, sniffing my hair and nuzzling its nose against mine.

Stack up all your wishes into a big tower and maybe I’ll break it if I feel like it, she appeared to be saying leaving black fur against the whites of my collarbone, close to my pumping arteries. I held her tightly, realizing that the sudden affection was from the sweet smell of meat my skin emitted. I had eaten a burger right before my arrival.

“They’re big deceivers, aren’t they?” I often heard my friends say but what do they know about fairness in human contact? When they all leave one by one and only stay if you place food at their feet and stroke their ego like you would do with black fur.

In truth, these are whiskers tainted with bribery milk and while they all know it, they would rather blame everything on a feline whose sacred goal is that of self-preservation. I get that more than anyone in the world. After all, while others hate them for their survival instincts, I truly admire them for it.

They’re truthful.

They love you with purpose.

To them, everything is black or white and affection is simply a transaction. They never pretend for it to be anything else, do they? Think about it, they purr when you come home in anticipation for food and without a second thought, they accomplish their goal harmlessly.

And you, silly human? You’re just content someone is giving you the attention and you don’t question it. You never do. You’re just a taker and a deceiver too, aren’t you?

Cats can live on their own. They don’t require tribute for their independence. They look as if nothing can bring them down. They’re careful and attentive. Smart. So much from a creature so small.

Can you imagine? This creature had no mentor. She was born with it. She doesn’t need mascara to open doors. You’ll open it for them, hypnotized by every purr. And then still be the one confused.

I’ve realized recently that the saying “All every human being desires is to be loved” is quite true. Every action surges from the simple wish of having someone near you to shower you with attention.

Why else would we make so many social media accounts and post our faces in so many instances, greedily waiting for likes more than we’re waiting for God? Why else would we be so disappointed in our online profiles? Why would we want so many strangers as fake followers? And why else would their opinion value more than that of our true friends (if you still have any left) or your family members?

Ah. Because they don’t know who you really are.

So? Does the rest of the world know? Funnily enough, we want strangers to know and discover sides of us we’re only willing to post behind a screen instead of going out, reconnecting with people.

Whisper from the inside that you’re still there. Still living, still creative and still aware.

Do you think cats would have social media accounts?

Just the thought of it makes me laugh.

Do the queens of today’s world have Facebook? Of course not. Why would royalty need fake admiration? Why would they seek to beg for love? It’s in poor taste.

Their need for affection is shown through other means: their charity events, their elegance, their deeds. And they don’t need photos as proof. Their actions ripple through the world.

And so does a feline tail’s swish. It ruffles the air and crumbles the earth beneath such feet.

Will cats rule the world one day?

No.

After all, they don’t speak and would rather yawn in our face.