Dolores is now comfortable enough with me to completely fall asleep in my stomach. Not just any “closed-eyes-but-startled-at-any-slight-sound” asleep but “completely-twisting-over-belly-up-loss-of-all-senses” passing out. I find it interesting that she still has the ability to purr the entire time she’s on my stomach, but has no reflexes at all. I can touch the pads of her back paws or poke her belly and there’ll be no reaction. I can put her favourite treat in front of her nose, and she won’t even look at it. My theory is that purring is a very subconscious activity that cats may not be able to control.

I’m sorry, but I can’t go another day without telling you how much I want to feel your face beneath my fingers, how much I want to drag their trembling tips across your gentle skin. My mind swells with almost inclement desire, that I may consume your body or breathe in your being with every sigh you let out.

I want to run my fingers across the playful curve of your brow, the arching base of your nose, the edges of your supple lips. I want to feel your skin give beneath mine as it resists from the sultriness of your complexion. I want to explore every diminutive line in your face and examine every feature of your countenance. I want to graze the flourish of your lashes and kiss the corners of your exquisite, pointed mouth.

Even now my mind struggles with the words, the ineffable nature of my overwhelming appetite.

That you may be mine.

And no one else’s.

Going to places like Ikea, Zone, or Varia is always a risk for me. My current set of furniture is rather uneclectic, understandably so, since I plan on investing in much better pieces once I have a permanent residence. Of course, finding such a place may take as long as a decade, so I may be stuck with my cheap furniture for a while. I was considering the purchase of a luxury computer chair, but being unemployed makes me rather frugal. Walking into Zone is like walking into a brushed aluminum and glass paradise. I usually get tempted to tell the salesperson to pack up a room of silvery pieces and ship it to my apartment. Every time I walk by Nick’s room, I become tempted to redecorate my own, seeing as how he has a matching futon, dresser, computer desk, and chair. My room lacks personality, although the lighting is now at a state that I can be comfortable.

Kegger tomorrow at Iain’s. Console party Saturday here. LAN party next weekend here.

I bought Dolores another toy, consisting of a sisal cylinder with a spring-loaded, bell-attached fuzzy ball. The cylinder doubles as a container for catnip, and for only a couple dollars, was a decent find. I also bought a small bag of wet cat food in gravy as a treat. After smelling this gourmet food, I’m now determined that all cat food has the same unique “cat food smell”, the way garbage has the universal “garbage smell”, whether someone throws out the last bites of his filet mignon or the moldy remains of her KD.

As Trolley has most aptly noticed, Dolly is now developing a gut, and her once lithe figure is accompanied by a soft belly of sorts. As can be seen in these before and after photos, the gut protrudes most distinctly from the neutral sitting position, and now covers up the hind legs.