Cat Scratch Fever

“I think it’s rude to even have a cat...”

And of course I started to think about it the same time I answered the message and put the smartphone aside, why cats bring terror to my fantasy-world, my Imaginarium? The conclusion is that I think they’re false.

How can I start to hunt, knowing not the season? How can I trust a mirror hidden in other mirror?
It's spicy and bitter as hell to swallow some words you already know for not being true.

It's even harder when you're fighting yourself at the same time and your judgements aren't as accurate anymore and what you started knowing is now a blurred image that resembles very little the originals.

It’s horrible when the real world and the fake one are now a big lonely and unique playground, the gates that once were responsible for letting you know when the show is happening and when it’s not, is truly damaged.

You are lost, and your only friends are snow and plants...
You don’t know the reasons, you don’t have the whys, you were left stranded on an Island full of “Ws": Whats, whens, wheres and the worst ones... The whos.

What a whore life can be sometimes…

The answers laugh at you, your judgement is now asking the divorce for your conscience. Despair appears for dinner, some whiskey and some good time in this very same moment...

- "And I wasn’t expecting visits today. But come on in, don’t mind the house, I wasn’t able to clean it for some time. But it’s all good, let’s talk.”

It's hard to be alone sometimes. It's hard to be really left alone for someone you thought would be there for the fall.

I told you I used to think it was rude to even have cats, but sometimes you think on yourself too much as a Jerry...

How much are you of a Tom?

We are the cats, we are what we hate the most.

But we are what we need too.

Have you loved and took off the masks today?

You could read this listening to “Monstrance Clock” by Ghost B.C.