I’m basically the reincarnation of St. Francis

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It started earlier this year. I was walking home from a friend’s house, and I heard a rustling in the bush. From the depths of the plant’s foliage emerged a raccoon. It noticed me, regarded my presence, and made a short bow with its head. It then proceeded on its way.

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These fucking birds better not shit on my halo. Just dry cleaned this shit.

This didn’t strike me as unusual at first. Strangers of my own species treat me with high regard wherever I go, so why not others? Then I went to one of my favorite hookah bars.

I was on a date then, so that was good. A customer came in with a beast on a leash. It was a slobbery, exuberant, brown and white pit bull. (No, the dog is not my date.) When the man released his hound, it bounced from sofa to sofa, receiving affection from everyone. It allowed me to massage its head, and apparently seeing something good within me, sat itself by my side. My date commented that it was good that I seemed to be an animal person.

Last night, I wrangled together some acquaintances and we sat in an apartment, smoking hookah. I’m disinclined to private hookah pipes, but the owner was able to make it function well. Anyways, the owner of the apartment had a dog and a cat. The cat greeted me warmly (strange for a cat), and the dog would not get away.

The thing is, I strike the fear of God into animals everywhere else. Horses rear up when I pass. Dogs bark uncontrollably at me. Cats dare not look me in the eyes. With a snap of my fingers, a dog will do my bidding.

My working hypothesis at the moment is that by making out so fervently with a clinical sociopath, I caught the disease myself. While I had a heart of ice beforehand, my new-found disease allows me to hide it under a superficial smoke-screen, and not even animals can discover it.  As Nietzsche would say, “And when you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.”  I hope Nietzsche wasn’t also snogging crevices in the rocks. That sick bastard.

While I may find the state of my mental health liberating, it can not remain this way. Using and abusing individuals is contrary to my consequentialist school of thought (those that don’t deserve it, anyway). Please, I beg you, send money for therapy as quick as you can. There’s no knowing what I can do now.

(And, like, I’m joking.)

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