Three beginnings

Why am I still plagued by stupid things I've done that are now long over and past? How is it that I still cringe, sometimes vocalize uncontrollably when I recall some dumb thing I did, what, two weeks ago, two years, even ten or more? In front of friends or strangers, doesn't matter, though the one group has obviously gotten over it, and the other likely never cared, or at least I shouldn't.

A cat with whom I'm on fairly familiar terms has invested a lot of energy in making clear to me and certain others that life is little more than alternation between physical satisfaction and spiritual indignation. Where one is present, the other will not be. Much of this philosophy, it's plainly obvious, has to do with not being able to reach doorknobs. Still, the cat may be on to something.

It's a werewolf's moon tonight. Well, not exactly, I mean it's not full, but it's large and glowing white, with thick ropes of cloud passing across it. There's a sharpness to its light, as if you can see more deeply into the shadows and darkened sky. And now there's a chill to the air, too, so that the day was a dream of summer heat, but the night is wakeful with cold communion.

Feel free to finish these or whatever in the comments.