#catquette

"you're a high-shot flower,

inexplicable flavor."

i got your minds...

in this song.

i'm your high-shot love.

---

walking 'round in cold,

like i've never been told how to love.

it's my mind,

oh- so divine...

nothing could ever come close.

---

so i run,

then i rose.

that's the high-shot craze.

i sink and i say,

"nothing good ever happens these days."

i long for love. i long for life. i live my life without love. plantonic or not.

why must i go on like a hermit? i am a hermit, but i do not want to be.

i feel like the reason why i'm so obsessed with shows that portray and songs that feel like the social teenage experience is because of my lack of a social teenage experience.

honestly i feel like i'm so obsessed with shows, movies, songs, scenarios and etc. that imitate and portray the teenage experience especially the happier/social side of it because of my lack of a social teenage experience. i lack these experiences due to the fact that i'm a backup friend to everybody to all of my "friends".

although i am still a teen, i just have never experienced it. perhaps it's because i'm an off-putting but kind introvert who is usually oblivious to social cues i haven't been taught beforehand.

ever since kindergarten and all the years after that, i now can see it in the way i cared for others vs how they "cared" for me.

in 8th grade, i realized it. and in 9th grade, i said it wouldn't happen again; it did. in 11th grade, i let go and stop taking initiative.

nobody was reached out unless i did it first. nobody cared. i am forgotten.

like kafka, on July 1st, i'm "too tired". yes, i'm tired, too.

𝙹𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝟷, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺, 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺-𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟹

whatever it may be and whatever happened, i can confidently say that i've wasted my teenage years.

in a way.

they're not completely wasted, but i've never had fun with any friends. distancing myself from social media hasn't aided me either.

i just want company. i want to be in the company of a truly caring friend.

if it doesn't occur next school year, then will it ever occur?

i like to be alone by choice but when there's no friends to turn to when i'd like the company, it's not really great.

i'll manage, i've been for years.

10:45 p.m. | 1. 7. 24.

CH. II - Tea Cake

"She's human."

"Small and hateful."

"Sweet too?"

"Too bitter, her hate covers her good

like honey should cover poison;

she's doing it wrong."

It was true, nobody fought more (wars) than Natelle & it made her bitter like all other men.

But she was no man.

As a result, her anger is unacceptable. Nobody likes angry women.

All highly respected men are furious,

though.

A point to highlight, one of interest, to respect.

Natelle probably wanted respect & she sees all the angry hot-headed men being respected. She thought anger was the key.

So she, a small girl filled her blood with fury & raged red, hot fury. Raged at all she knew.

Too bad the key to respect was being a man.

Good thing she knows now.

Covered in ash and scorn;

so catquette 🩰🎀

hot mother venus, do you hear me?

i need to feel this.

feel this now.

hot mother,

i am screaming.

screaming from contentions,

unnerved apprehensions.

hold my face and shake out my brain and

let it run down my head so i can taste it.

why does it feel as if i've strung out?

ho- hold me in your arms.

keeping me safe and

safer from harm.

i need to know what must be done in order to evaporate.

i'm in need of operation now.

hard to self-medicate when at home and

there is holes in the doors.

mother, i am yours.

take me home.

hot mother venus, do you hear me?

i need to feel this.

feel this now.

i have a feeling i will lose it all.

presentiment tells me that i'm about to fall.

the presage looms heavy over my head

like it wants me to know i'll soon be dead.

i have no idea what's coming over me.

a lot can change in a single year, as you can see.

i wish to be with creation and to be free.

why does nobody ever listen to me?

i need to change the scenery,

in order to become all that i can be.

from love, it's an illusion and from it, i'd be free.

it pains me to realise that it's all conditional.

i'll survive even though i feel my soul slipping.

i'll survive even while the point's near tipping.

i will survive and i'll be free.

i lose it all, my family.

i will be free; break from the threshold.

it will no longer hold me.

Copyright © 2026

the femininity of madness.

the madness of femininity.

i'd love to be crazy,

i'd love to be free.

there's femininity in madness

and lunacy in femininity.

being expected to give your heart,

being expected to do everyone's part,

then, manducate your feelings when it's fallen apart.

and if you don't, you're never spared and looked upon with admiration or commiseration—

no consolation.

you will lay...

lie?

to live another day.

but when you go and you are a loss,

they'll make another to take your place.

she'll be taught,

she will grow,

she would become--

compared to you, she is listless.

but you lived despondently and died in a similar attitude so,

you'd never know.

but when she leaves.

again she's a loss,

they'll make another to fulfill the course.

again, she's going crazy

and that's a must.

bloom in my room,

wilt in the eyes of others.

blessed be the souls of ours.

blessed be the souls of our mothers.

all for so long, i yearned

for the warmth of others' approval.

but now that earns none of my concern.

i wish to flow in the winds,

so peacefully.

i'm aware as things grow worse,

that belief is akin to cinders.

my hope is singed.

still, it's completely dead.

my hope,

she's pushing up daisies.

she looks up at me.

my eyes,

my face,

my limbs,

blood and grace.

"nothing is new under the sun," she states. "your shock is missing and that is commendable. but indifference is the difference between you and the unconscious."

awaken, you all.

all of you must awaken...

then rage against the goats.