02:54 (AM) 

That Type of Montage Where you see a Protagonist with a big Stack of Books Processing Everything to get Something big Done with “Intense” Sounding Background Music

Hey my Catje ♥

I hope that not seeing you today doesn’t mean that you’re not real.* I hope that people keeping up with my blogging, who actually can relate to this and also want to be open about this really exist. (Please I really don’t want another crisis center hell.) But yesterday was a reminder that I shouldn’t assume that anyone will ever take any work out of my hands.

Please don’t get me wrong. The people in my circle always come off as very happy and nice people. I know you’re wise enough to formulate your own opinion and won’t let my opinion influence you if you ever were to spend time with them.

I’m just an outcast. It hurts too much to see reality confirm that every time. We’re very different people, my circle and I. I’ve been laughing about their jokes for decades. I even know the algorithm so well that, in the past, I’ve been making the same type of jokes. But my actual sense of humor is never understood. It’s as if we don’t even speak the same language.

It’s no use trying to explain this. I have no intentions of harming their online or offline identity. All I want to do is – for the sake of my mental health – cause an irreversible break-up. In more than 500 posts I’ve been trying to tell you why, but I see I just can’t make you feel what I feel, if it’s still not clear. When I move to Antwerp, no one will know my address. That’s the type of distance I aspire to create.

My mind is somewhere much further in the distance. This distance becomes larger every single day. Small talk becomes a greater disturbance for me every day. I seek people with whom I can, for example, discuss my selection of books. And then discuss it with self-formulated arguments and not “all those books are bad”, without having read them. Let’s cuddle and read or something…

*Maybe you’re in the same outcast position and know how not easy it is to speak up without consequences. I’m using this silent but loud escape tactic to pave the way for those who are in the same situation as I.

I just want to reform the system and want people to know who I really am. Meanwhile I need to get by. So that’s why I’m working on FangCatje, to clear my name and maybe earn a little. Then I have the book store to hopefully earn enough in combination with study financing. (Ugh why do people keep telling me to get a job it’s such an insult to me.) And then I’ll start being a regular student and hope someone powerful and influential notices me at some point, so that I can become Illuminatus Intelligens ProfFangs and make the world a better place with my global reform strategies.

In that way, I can do this all by myself as far as this can be done by one person alone. But the road is long and dreadful though and I actually don’t want to do it because I spend far too much time behind a screen meow that’s so awful. As long as none of my “fans” – if they exist –  offers me practical support, I have no other choice but to do this to get there.

Those are my pre-bed thoughts.

Good night ♥


12:21 (PM) 

Another Attempt to Make Myself Clear

Good afternoon 🙂 ♥

I’m still in bed. This is where I strategize most often.

Last night, I mentioned my aspiration to vanish in such a way that I move somewhere else without anyone knowing my new address. This is what I tried in 2017 (but then as a homeless person instead of even having a roof above my head), not thinking of being reported missing because I was already trying to get settled in to my new life.

I find it hard to express this wish of mine to my circle, because I love them and we have an extremely long history together. I also don’t want everyone to think that they’re the cause of me wanting to leave not only this circle but also leave this country forever. It’s just a good 75% of people who makes me want to do that. Haha. Those with the toxic personalities. Not the silent outcasts, but the narcissists who are like bloodsuckers for attention. They have already drained all of my energy energy draining type of vampires. I don’t want to endure that anymore. For my birthday I want distance. A new life. (And if they’ll, as they say, “miss me that much” they can just read my blog but they hate my blog so therefore they hate me and therefore why the fuck are they still in my life.)

I find it hard to express my wish to leave this life behind me to their faces. It really feels similar to a break-up. But to my parents I’ve mentioned this wish repeatedly and they always tell me “That’s not gonna happen.” If you’d have invested in me I could have hired you a maid to change your diapers. But now I’ll need everything to pay off my student debt. It’s gonna happen for sure even if it’s the last thing I do.

I hope that the spontaneous “surprise” hired barbecue catering yesterday confirms for you too that the financial struggle I (not my family but I alone) have been living through is completely unnecessary. The stress that comes with an income below the minimum income is not healthy and to then also have 75% personalities I find toxic in my life is really not healthy. It has been feeding my death wish in the last 12 years. It’s like there’s no way to escape them.

When I say that I strive towards distance when I move out, I don’t mean moving a few blocks away and celebrating the holidays together. I mean that for your funeral I’ll send a bunch of flowers and that’s it. Distance. Never again will I feel that feeling of pain in my chest their offensive words cause and no more toxic memories will be added to the many toxic memories that replay in my head over and over.

My current issue with creating this distance is that I’ll have to rent a moving van to transfer all of my belongings from Capelle to Antwerp, but will they let me do this and will they leave me alone and not report me missing again… Why do they make it so hard for me to move on. 😢

I want more time to work on FangCatje. I’m also having second thoughts about therapy in general again. Because this far every therapist has been forcing me to not only keep in touch with my circle but “improve my relationship” with my circle. I can’t hear something like that EVER AGAIN. THERE IS FUCKING NOTHING TO IMPROVE. WE ARE OPPOSITES. IMPROVEMENT IS WHERE I FIND LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP IN A COMPLETELY NEW LIFE DAMMITTTTT HOW IS THAT SO HARD TO BE OBVIOUS!??!!!?!


Oh and I have something important to say about “black people-ism”: Once my parents from my grandparents took over raising me, I’ve been hearing the words “koelie, bokoe, boeroe, ptata,” et cetera like they were normal things to say. I apologize for that person I’ve been when I was younger. I learnt this type of empathy when I was years older. Though in my environment people still treat each other like stereotypes – AND I HATE THAT MORE THAN ANYTHING – I now don’t go along in a conversation like that anymore if it goes that way. An example of fucking annoying stereotyping like that is saying “Dutch/white people/ptatas only eat tasteless food in portions that are too small.” I’ve been hearing shit like that from birth and have been saying it myself because I believed my family was teaching me facts. But they’ve been teaching me bullshit.

I now see that Dutch economic food portions come from both their heritage (e.g. the scarcity of the hongerwinter and elements of that kitchen still prevalent today) and that they have to watch their emission because if we don’t live parsimonious the dykes will flood. (Something most Surinamese people don’t give a fuck about. I don’t give a fuck, too, but that’s just because I look forward to building something better.) Not all Dutch people only eat unseasoned potatoes and such and eat portions that are measured, for example, exactly how many potatoes per person. I love the serious side of this conversation and love to empathize with you (because I find the Dutch (or caucasian or general) search for an identity so sexy because they associate their identity with the big names in human history and then feel like shit let me give you some kisses meow you need to seek your identity only within yourself which is the easiest when you talk to me meow skip whatever the fuck some historic figure did). But simultaneously caucasians assuming that colored people have nothing to offer is heartbreaking and makes me want to murder whoever says something like that.

Some people I can sympathize with and want to improve their lives, some people I hate and want dead. It has nothing to do with where you are from or how many diplomas you have. Like my father says “Er zijn Marokkanen en er zijn geitenneukers,” [ = “There are Moroccans and there are goat fuckers.” Saying some are civilized and some are barbarians] I find that there are Surinamers and monkeys. And that there are Dutch people and FUCKING IGNORANT RACIST AARGH NO WORDS CAN DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I ACTUALLY FUCKING HATE THEM.

My circle is 75% fucking monkeys. The post Surinamese slavery monkeys who stuff themselves because they think it’s their culture, not knowing what influence it has on their health and still associating their eating behavior with some type of fucking absurd (food culture) superiority.
[Trippy sentences and I didn’t explain the words in between apostrophes (like koelie) but I hope the rest of the paragraph has made it clear to you.]

I noticed some of the insecurity that this widespread sense of Surinamese/black (food culture) superiority has caused very clearly yesterday, when I was having a conversation with some Dutch friends of my mother. To them I mentioned how much I’ve repeatedly been told that my parents loved salmon they prepared in their smoke oven, that one day when I decided to not accompany them to their friends, that my father’s birthday present was a smoke oven. They were surprised to hear that they loved it so much. Then I heard the back story of how they ended up preparing that salmon and heard the insecurity about what to prepare that my parents would enjoy. They thought that they don’t eat potatoes. (Only boiled unspiced potatoes are not often appreciated, but that has nothing to do with ethnicity. Stamppot or grilled potatoes with skin seasoned with rosemary and sea salt et cetera is something some Surinamese people, due to the history that intertwines with Dutch history, eat too. (Yes unfortunately those who refuse to eat “white people food” exist as well.))

Meanwhile I’ll feel the need to rip the person’s head off when someone tells me “Your favorite food must be chicken.” And if you think that I’m some uneducated monkey who casts spells and doesn’t know how to use a fork YOU WILL FUCKING DIE VERY FUCKING SOON.

So do not think I’m another stereotypical black person who thinks black people are superior, because then you might get fanged by me. I’m dealing with the very difficult cultural related position I’m in, because of the monkeys I’m sharing my culture with. Monkeys ruin it for non-barbarian colored people. I’m The Fangs with a very complex outlook on life because I can oversee everything from the perspective of empathy. (And I’m out for blood yay. 😀 )

Meoww I need so much more time to work on FangCatje if I want it to be something to be proud of. 🙁

By the way I think that with my writing I’m actually directly transferring my exact feelings to you and these feelings need to become happy feelings because my feelings of pain are unbearable. You can feel it? Meow please give me a reason to write happy things because my pain suuucks and I assume that we both want to feel good.

I have so much to say still meoww but typing is so time consuming and I still have no staff feeding me and stuff so that I can focus on what’s important so mweh I’m going to eat – against the principles of eating safe but from the options I have here still the most safe – left-overs. I’m saving up on interpunction to get information to you faster which is working yay. But where are my kisses meow don’t leave me alone to die alone if you’re sexy please. 😢


17:09 (05:09 PM) 

Ragdoll Mode

Meow I’ve been making time to work on FangCatje, but I feel that my body wants mental rest. The problem is that the real mental rest comes when I’ve permanently distanced myself from the toxic relationships in my life. That is costly because maintaining my life abroad while being a student is costly.

This issue kind of makes me want to lay in bed without moving forever. Entering ragdoll mode. But that won’t make me Illuminatus Intelligens ProfFangs.

Meow I should be refreshing my knowledge of mathematics though. But I need this online bookstore because it could be the side-income I’ll need very much, to get by. I wish someone would help me. 🙁