I dislike death. i dont mind it in media, and i don't particularly mind hearing about it if its distanced from me. thats the beauty of being interconnected through the internet: you dont have any stake in it. however, when it happens near you, its deeper cutting. my cat recently had her kits, i dont know how old they are. at least a week or so. she brought one inside, sprinted through the house with it to my room. the kitten was death kissed, rigor morits claiming its small form. he was pitch black, a tiny little coal nugget. my cat was licking him, i assumed she was grieving. when she started to nibble at his flesh, it finally dawned on me that nature is carnivorous and cannibalistic. i had to move his body before she progressed into her task, gently wrapping him papertowels and taking him outside. i can still feel the little bit of hard flesh and disgusting fur, so like his mothers soft pelt. i wanted to vomit and to cry, to drown in my own sorrow and viscera for a small creature i didnt even know for a fact existed in that moment. i havent been able to touch his mother, to stroke her back lovingly as i give her her meals. i still want to drown in tears, i think. i feel hollow and i cant even explain why.