I have been writing in a journal on an almost-daily basis since I was 17 years old. This is a record of me going through each entry from the beginning, and commenting on the me from fifteen years ago.

To that kind and innocent animal, I am its god. I am its kindness and benevolence, I am its cruelty. Were I angry enough, I could be its destruction. And what kind of god am I now? I have left him deityless, a worshipper without a thing to pray to. And what kind of keeper have I? Have I as well been deserted? Is my god ever to return, or does he await me to be deserving of my food and water before it be given. I live to serve this god, as I am served, awaiting love and warmth in return for my non-evil deeds.

Wow, this entry about my cat certainly took an interesting turn. If we’re just pets to God, I hope he at least finds our antics amusing and cute. I wonder if he laughs when he sees us wearing sunglasses.