![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
It's second period (or sixth, as the schedule says). I get to be up here working on stuff other than Girls' Chorus, because there was a concert last night. But I just finished my Merchant of Venice study questions, so I felt like doing this instead. The freshman next to me is working on her Geography project, and she has a map of India up (http://www.mapsofindia.com/census2001/femaleliteracy.htm) and only 52.01 percent of the females in West Bengal are literate. I'm overwhelmed. I didn't know places like that still existed. And that's where my soul's ancestors are from (maybe). I'm having doubts. If I'm feline, why do I want so very much to fly? Why do I jump the stairs and spread phantom wings and run every time I cross the living room? I mean every time. I never get tired of airplane liftoffs or landings, either. Why do I love celery with cream cheese so much? This is torturous, because, although I know my face is definitely not human (I jump when I look in the mirror), I don't really know if it's stripey and orange. I think green is possibly it, maybe, too. I mean, why ought I love lizards, snakes, and frogs, besides to eat? I really do. And scaly patterns. And bright colors, and hoarding gorgeous rocks and riches and gems. What is with me? And the book thing. I never knew a feline to be so obsessed with literature. And medievalness. How often do you see tigers in medieval literature? In England? That's where my human ancestors are from. And Scotland. And the cuylture I identify with. Besides that of Rome, Egypt, and Greece, none of which had tigers either. They are those that make the composite of Ailuria. I don't know. I just don't know.
.
From: (Anonymous)
no subject