The transition from checkerboard to the next phase in my life felt like ages. But how does one judge and comprehend time and space when one is nothing. And even harder trying to put it into prose when you’re a cat with huge paws that are hard to type with, ha, ha.
Anyways, the transition time was weird. I had some sort of sense of being but it didn’t feel like I body. Humans are so hung up on their bodies and losing them, when will they realise that’s it’s merely a vessel for something bigger – something so immensely incomprehensible not even Will I Am one of the smartest pussy cats around could provide an answer.
Some might say my story is fanciful and if I’ve has all these lives and I’m in a state of nothingness and in-between states how I have any recollection or awareness of my previous lives. Well for those who want to argue state-of-consciousness and humans understandings of it go ahead, let’s just say I’m the one who is a cat writing a novel, hah!
So, before I enter my third life I thought I share some back story about myself. I’m told; in fact I learnt this from a creative class I wandered into in Northbridge when I used to live on the street. Chubby Checker thought I was blowing out my arse and being all arty-farty slipping into that class but he’s a dumb arse that cat. For starters I got lots of scratches and rubs, plus extra grub and on top of that the art of creating a back-story. That’s not bad considering I was a bit skanky in those days, all skin and bone with a grease covered coat. Better than old Chubby Checker tho, he just hung around the back of fast food joints and became one step closer to a heart attack.
The class went for 3 hours and was full of middle-aged poets dressed in cardigans and a couple of wide-eyed youngsters who hadn’t become too jaded with the world and still thought you could earn a living through writing. I learnt how to use the technique of back-story to inform the reader of important information that would help them understand the motivations of characters especially the leading light of the story – me Will I Am, the first cat to write the Great Australian novel.
Anyways tune in next Friday for the back story cause it’s taken 5 hours to write all that and I can’t be arsed doing any more.