jesus christ halifax and your cat obsession- fur and shit and fur and shit and repeat. sure, you get a strange being to project your own (strange) drama onto, something to watch and talk about that's neither your own progeny nor other cats on youtube, and a little cat-sized shield between you and the unique void that is halifax life, but your little non-companion feed me pet me or fuck off friends (who neither need nor care about you) look like very poor stand-ins for such notions as 'responsibility' or 'ambition' or 'friends' or 'doing something' or 'something to talk about.' your cat love level is a barometer, revealing a-how insensitive you'll find me (thank god), and b- how brief our relationship will be. —just ruined most north end dating opportunities