Relaxation

That type of obsession interests me because at least she had something going for her. I can’t even finish an essay. 

Yes I can, and I have. 

Plenty. 

A flame in my side. And they will make it really clear they hate you just because you have shit energy. The thing is, when people say they love cats, fucking believe them.


 Like that saying: when people show you their true colours, believe them. When they say Trump is a monkey, believe them. When people tell you they love cats so much it hurts, it does all the time but I like it. It’s genuine. It’s a pain that announces itself with no pretense. No I don’t mean being tired, cats are always tired. I mean. 


I have a candle for all my different moods. I mean cats want to understand pure intentions from people way before they walk over to them. Some represent serenity, present. Others are more medicinal, they actively calm my systems. But who has the time to sit around smelling roses? 

I feel guilty for doing that. 


They are little bottled stars, pleasant interruptions in your steam-train-of-a-thought-process --  Do they wave at the stars? Like, do cats know that their life lesson on this planet is - probably - to learn patience and learn temperament? They’re saying goodbye to relatives embarking on a journey to a strange land.


Purple cascading round and round and round and round and round and round the cylindrical candle, you turning your wrists to really see it for what it is, not on a revolving podium. 

So I kinda just feel like, what a nice ability I got, to love a whole species, 

I have different candle holders, some a tinted blue glass and others a shadowy red texture. 

Tall candelabras that are enamoured by a reddish wood, erect from a bronze foundation. 


They look like classy murder weapons. A scorned wife, indeed. 

I promise there are many more. 

Why doom scroll when you could just look at the tiny flame, fighting to be noticed. I watch it like I’m watching the ballet. A lone figure, dancing, encaged. 


Like eating my food too quickly when I’m alone, like a cat would, but I don’t do a cat too firm; Means it doesn’t like it’s energy vibrations around you. 

Let’s paint the spectrum of time with our favourite colours and smells. How do we extract the memories? We take a page out of Phillip K Dick’s books and harvest and redistribute them! Honestly why do you think witches have cats? 


It’s because I’m busy.

Relaxation