Come 3 AM, we have the dogs around the house barking or howling; human movement disturbs them too. That's something that has served as an alarm for me in the last two years.
Funny, but yes, a nice way to break a night's sleep into nap periods and chunk it down. A rarity, the days when I've hit the sack around 3, I could track my time of sleep, thanks to their impeccable timing.
Today, for a change, we have a different set of dogs making all the noise; those that walk on two legs. Sitting high on alcohol and buildings, they howl, indicating some impending disaster.
Four-legged ones, the urban legends say, warn of woes for the others. The two-legged ones take things into their hands; two limbs free translating to more work that way. Evolution makes species better equipped for tasks, I presume.
Zarathustra once asked a young man, moving around to the village. Eager to get married, the young one with subtlety scurried. His question on overcoming the self, a pertinent pointlessness in this world and the one I see around. "Would Zarathustra find it obnoxious?" I question myself, as these dolts make a fuss. A fuss so loud in its presence, indicative of some victory over the self and thus the world.
As I sip on my cranberry from a few months back, Zarathustra nods in approval. Stomachs and eyes burning, reasons different yet same.