Conversation

It was one of those days when you feel like blowing up the world, or at best, hiding in a mouse hole. Sometimes, from the moment you wake up, you're faced with a series of unfortunate incidents, small or large twists of fate. Such a dark day is the worst possible time for a hairdresser's appointment. (Generally, it's rare to find a suitable date for a hairdresser's appointment, though that's a trait inherent to this profession. Do you know anyone who's happy to leave the birthplace of unpleasant surprises, commonly known as the hair salon?) Oblivious to my unpleasant experiences, I once again succumbed to the whispers of my darker side and once again spent hours mourning my lost hair.

Fortunately, the day was drawing to a close. Secluded in my room with an interesting book in hand, I managed to regain something that could be called spiritual equilibrium. Soft music flowed from the radio, and it seemed no one was about to disturb my almost blissful peace. A black cat slipped through the slightly ajar bedroom door, pawing gently on the carpet.

Although my gaze continued to drift over the logically arranged black letters that formed syllables, words, and sentences, my thoughts wandered in various directions. A quiet, low, pleasant voice pulled me from the otherworldly world of my thoughts:

"It's not that bad."

Surprised, I glanced around the room. Aside from the cat, who, perched on the desk, stared at me with elongated pupils surrounded by green irises, there was no one else. Slightly worried about my state of mind, I returned to my reading.

"Don't pretend you don't hear." The voice took on a mocking tone.

I closed the book and slowly looked up. The glossy-furred cat now stood opposite me, on the edge of the desk, still gazing expressively. I froze. And we remained like that, like a tableau vivant: me and the cat, the cat and me. After a moment of mutual observation, he sat down and, with a nonchalant expression, said,

"The haircut. It's not that bad. Honestly, I've seen worse.

I couldn't believe my eyes. I tried to check if I was awake. The traditional pinch test came back negative. Still dazed, I couldn't utter a word.

"What are you staring at? Say something!" the cat admonished me and started licking my right paw.

"Mac, are you talking?" I asked intelligently.

"Of course I am. You can hear. By the way, who gave me such a stupid name? I understand Garfield, or at least Penfold. But Mac?

" "But it's not Christmas Eve today," I noticed out of the blue.

"You're observant, aren't you?" He sneered. "Of course it's not Christmas Eve. It's the middle of summer, and you'd like Christmas Eve?

" "Cat, I wouldn't want any Christmas Eve at all. I just want to understand what's going on here."

"Ho, ho... isn't that too much to ask? You think you can understand everything, comprehend everything?" he asked, twirling his tail.

"Can't I? Is there something you can grasp with your cat mind that I can't? And who's homo sapiens here?" I must admit, my own pet was starting to irritate me. His self-confidence...

"By Bastet, you have quite a high opinion of yourself. If you're such a thinking creature, you'll surely figure out what's going on yourself. I won't say anything more." With that, he assumed the stance of an Egyptian Sphinx and looked at me expectantly.

Unable to tear his eyes away from the animal, I felt as if I were lost in lethargy. No explanation for this unusual situation came to mind. Only one thought fluttered through my mind, which I shared with Maciek without a moment's hesitation.

"Yes, I'm crazy. I'm delusional. Schizophrenic." And you're just an ordinary tomcat who doesn't speak to anyone. At most, to other, mangy creatures like yourself.

"Come on, don't insult me. My fur is beyond reproach, unlike your intelligence. And I'm not a delusion, nor a figment of your admittedly somewhat sick imagination.

" "What do you mean? Cats don't speak. They meow at most, sometimes purr, but they don't speak! You're not trying to tell me that you suddenly, out of the blue, learned human speech?" I asked sarcastically.

"Listen, hasn't it occurred to you that we always speak, but you can't listen? And at that very moment, out of the blue, you strangely tried and succeeded?" the cat said in an almost aggressive tone.

"I didn't do anything. I didn't try anything. How is that possible?" So suddenly, for no reason, to hear a cat…

"Clearly, it's not your place to know what and how." He interrupted me. "And there might be a reason…"

"If there is, tell me what it is!" I somewhat rudely urged the animal closer to him.

"Oh, that's how it is with you…" he sighed resignedly. "You want to know everything, even what you don't need to know. And all this rushing. And then you wonder why you don't hear… You don't even listen to yourselves…

" "Are you changing the subject? You were supposed to explain something to me…" I pressed on.

"And again… You see, I simply felt like having an intellectual conversation. And I think that if you put in a little effort, I could have a meaningful conversation with you.

" "Willingness to talk, you say? And what makes you so sure I'll hear you?

" "Well, I couldn't be sure, but let's just say… I have a hunch. We cats can be trusted with that," he replied proudly.

I settled into a comfortable position so I could see the cat clearly. The whole thing was starting to intrigue me. I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity; after all, you rarely get the chance to talk to your furry friend.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Oh, you know, about life, death... things like that... You think I don't know what problems you have? That I don't understand your relationships? I know perfectly well... In fact, I might even know more than most of you.

" "What do you mean, more? Aren't you exaggerating a bit? I have a feeling you're being a bit impertinent.

" "Don't be offended. I have reason to say that. Surely you realize that I see it all from a different perspective? You should do the same sometimes. Look at this whole world differently...

" "Hmm... don't you think adopting a cat's perspective is rather unlikely? Besides, I think you're generalizing too much. After all, not everyone perceives reality the same way.

" "But everyone, or at least the vast majority, sees it one-sidedly. You accept this planet of yours as something familiar; nothing surprises you. You walk the same roads every day and don't notice the changes. You don't realize that every morning you travel a completely different route; you're incapable of discovering beauty in what's closest to you.

" "And again, I think you're exaggerating a bit." There are moments when I become completely enchanted by the things I see every day…

"You see," he interrupted, "moments… But these shouldn't just be moments, exceptions. They should be the rule. And believe me, this kind of rule never leads to monotony. But let's not reduce our discussion to a specific case; I wanted to talk about the generality, about the entirety of reality.

" "After all, life is made up of millions of specific cases. Generalizing leads nowhere," I objected.

"Now you've gone too far. How is that going nowhere? Perhaps you're right that you can't operate solely with general concepts, but often a view from a distance can reveal a lot. You have to try it sometime. Imagine what your life looks like through the eyes of a cat…

" "I don't think I quite understand what you mean… I don't know what's going on in cats' heads…

" "And do you think you know what's going on in people's heads?" I thought I heard irony in Maciek's tone.

"That's more likely…

" "Oh, Agnieszka, you're naive." I'm starting to wonder if I'm wrong... Well, I like you because you scratch your ears so well. And that's why I'll try to make you realize something. You all think you understand each other. That you talk. That you listen to each other, nay! Even hear each other. You feel like you're creating some kind of community, that you stand in solidarity with each other, that you empathize, that you're friends, that you share joy and sorrow.

- And you don't?

"Well, it's not. The truth is, even if you listen, if you happen to hear another being, you still don't understand them. You feel like you know what others are telling you, but you filter everything through your own persona. You look through the prism of your own ego. Well, don't be offended, I'm not criticizing it, it couldn't be otherwise... And even if you understand something almost identically, then... so what? What difference does it make to someone unhappy or happy that their so-called neighbor feels they know what they're feeling?

" "Well...

" "See? You have to admit, such awareness doesn't help at all.

" "Is it just me, or are you telling me that each of us is alone in this whole sick universe? That we're all autonomous individuals who, despite wanting to, are unable to communicate? That we're doomed to it?

" "Something like that," the cat agreed, lying down on the desk again.

"And you're telling me all this because you like me?" Is that why you're making me ponder my ordered world? Are you trying to destroy my worldview out of pure sympathy? I got angry.

"And do you think living with illusions is such a pleasant thing?

" "Surely easier...

" "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. Such awareness can spare us a lot of disappointment and pain... After all, one of your philosophers said that human dignity lies in consciousness.

" "I think you've read too much," I said skeptically, and at that very moment I realized what nonsense I was spouting. Telling a cat that it's read too much is a clear sign of intellectual decline. Cats, even if they can talk, definitely don't read. But I wanted to be sure. "Can you read?

" "I'll reassure you. No. That's why, even if I'm not telling you anything new..." The cat stopped mid-sentence, approached me, and nudged my hand with his snout.

"Maciek? What's wrong?" I asked anxiously.

At that moment, the door opened, and my mother stood in the doorway.

"Hi. I'm back. Is everything okay?" she said, and without waiting for an answer, she headed towards the kitchen.

As soon as the door closed and I heard the clinking of glasses in the kitchen, I turned back to Maciek.

"Cat, what did you want to say?" I tried to continue the conversation. However, Maciek didn't say a word, only muttered quietly. "Maciek? What's wrong? Are you offended? Cat? Cat?..."

Maciek still didn't answer. He never spoke again.