13:59 (01:59 PM)Β 

Good afternoon πŸ™‚ β™₯

I was kind of starting to miss talking to you all day. And I have plenty of time now. I have a train ride of more than an hour ahead of me πŸ˜€ . I hope you’re as pleased by this spontaneous spontaneity as I am πŸ™‚ .

What I was doing before Starting to type this

My father’s “goodbye I’m going to work” kiss woke me up this morning.

I wonder what it does for him. I also wonder what my mother feels when she rubs my tailbone or other parts of my body. And what my grandmother feels every time she pinches my buns. Our conversations aren’t even that good that it leads to this type of ecstasy (elation, not drugs) where you thinking “We have such a good connection. I love you so much,” *gives hug* *gives Cishes* *et cetera*. It’s out of silence. Just like in Berlin ugh what an awful memory.

I say this because of the feeling I get every time I see my sister be her nudist self, thinking “She’s soo pretty meoww I wish she were my bed Catje…” She also spends so much time in her room with the blinds closed, but she defends my parents too much for me to be able to speak to her without getting hurt. Still I really want to take her with me when I go to Antwerp πŸ™ .

That we’re going to visit Egmond with the family this Summer, brings back so many memories. The last time we were there I was about 10 years old. I remember us sharing a bunk bed there, giving each other notes at night, asking each other what we know and think about the concept of “sex”. That happening is a very sensitive topic to me, now. Our parents are too childish/proletarian to be considered good educators regarding this topic. I didn’t find it easy to tame my feelings of arousal. But I am fully tamed now πŸ™‚ . Especially after having experienced how non-sexy the world is.

I’m going to upload this now and then continue to tell you about my day. I’m currently in the train to Amsterdam.


14:32 (02:32 PM)Β 

Always when I wake up, I feel like eating a luxury breakfast. That’s the type of specific hunger I have on a moment like that. But we don’t have that type of food in the house. Not because we can’t afford it, but because my parents prefer cheap luxury. That’s kind of depressing. What is even more depressing is that I wake up with thoughts like that every day. We’re all going to die one day anyway, you feel me?

So I kept falling asleep and waking up, until my mother screamed me awake from downstairs around 12 PM. She came back with a rental van, from bringing “her” car to the dealer.

My addiction to Spider Solitaire (ahahahah it’s soo severe) kept me glued to my bed until I had only 25 minutes. I decided to take the bicycle to the train: I don’t depend on fixed departure times, it’s cheaper, some body movement, less superficial conversations and crying babies in my ears, et cetera.

To be there, at the private Surinamese psychiatrist/psychotherapist in Amsterdam, before 3 PM, I had to leave around 13:13 with the metro to catch the 13:35 train. It’s 15 minutes to the train station with the bike. But the microwave, warming my first meal of left overs of the day, said “beep [aka it’s done]”, around 13:20. I arrived at the train station at 13:40, with the feeling that I ate way too fast.

The next train left at 14:05, so I decided to go to the mall next to the station andΒ  visit the supermarket to buy a bottle of water and something to snack. Inside the mall, I saw that the supermarket is being renovated. So I went to the drugstore-ish shop (drogisterij, Kruidvat) and bought a little bottle of water and a pack of nut bars. I’ve taken my writing of self-analysis from when I was in the crisis center with me. Now I need to switch from the train to the metro. I’m almost there xxx.



17:00 (05:00 PM)

Some Yays

My therapist has restored some of my hope, my meoww. That’s what these yays are for πŸ™‚ .

We re-initiated the analysis of my emotional brain today. I so love the educational aspects of our conversation. Another painful piece of admittance is that I knew that he is the conversationalist therapist I’ve always needed. But I ran away from it, because I thought that if I wouldn’t have any therapist at all, I could have a higher chance of being treated like a normal person. Experience has taught me that with or without a therapist, people will feel the need to speak to me in a pejorative tone. [But only in this way, right now instead of on my mother’s initiative in the past, I show you I’m not incompetent.] And of course, with my IQ, I’ll never be “a normal person”. Like he said, intelligence comes with a sort of social barrier. (I’m tired of (trying to) adapt to people who don’t have the capacity to understand me πŸ™ .)

Him saying that I’m still in the first phase of my life was an eye-opener. I didn’t look at life as four phases of 25 years. I see/saw-ish [need to try to convert to this new view now] it as: childhood -> “pre-education” -> higher education -> work life -> retirement. But 4 phases of 25 years is a much less depressing view. Though I want to establish a fully independent, not living in a student room type of life, before I’m 25. Because I want to write real history,Β  my meow… And I don’t want to slow down on that. But being this wild Catje on the internet is not going to bring me that greatness, I see. Though there are many people who are considered great for who they are on the internet. (I want to be great beyond the internet anyway.)

An interesting notion he made was that he would trust someone who doesn’t put everything online sooner than someone who puts everything online. I’m aware of that. In the end, we are somehow all taught to believe that. I had a similar view, too, before I went missing. Now I’m using this to persuade you to change the view you were given about me. I attempt to show you my bias I have towards people and things as much as possible, stil. (Otherwise I would be typing in all caps-lock always.)

I do this consciously. Think of what people would be confessing about themselves if they would actually put everything online. And think of what they have to offer in actuality. I hope to revolutionize business culture and do not intend to suddenly hide all of the “sins” I have confessed here. I hope you’ll love the full package my meoww. Because the non-traditional non-conformist expressions of me you can read here, are written with the intention of starting an actual revolution.

I want to guide your hidden anger, my meow. I want us to destroy the system, so that we can replace it with something better. I don’t say this often enough: I’m a still propagandist, after all.

And I’m soooooo happy that they are actually open to hear the self-analysis I’ve written down!!!

Meow I keep this vague because I haven’t asked for official permission to share this here. I hope that will come in the future, because I so don’t like that this blog is all me.

Gotta cycle ay be right backk xxx


20:51 (08:51 PM)

Another thing I like about today is that I now have homework that is fun: finishing my self-written self-analysis. I wasn’t planning to publish anything on the 30th of this month, too. But now I think I actually will release something πŸ™‚ . I’m thinking of publishing my self-analysis for €1. And maybe also selling a version on print, but that would then be me heading to the print shop to let a stack of books be printed as an investment, hoping that you’ll buy it. I won’t fang anyone in this self-analysis.

I hope this doctor Catje – semi-anonymous maybe until we have reached the topic of this online diary and he finds this yay – would like to be one of my co-writers in SchizoFangia. For SchizoFangia, I want to take more time before I publish it. It’s another one of my big projects. FangCatje is a little essay-ish something I’ll publish on the 30th πŸ™‚ .

And whoever may view my medical record now, basically, because I have consciously decided to not sign the privacy notice his assistant handed me at the start of our session. If doctor Catje now gives me any diagnosis that is not schizophrenia, I finally have proof of the truth I’ve been trying to tell you for so long. That in 2017 was not a psychosis, I am telling youuu.

When I left the location where our conversation had taken place, I thought of visiting my Jam Catje and his main Catje. But so much has happend meow I’m scared to get hurt again πŸ™ . We still have blocked each other. The friendship I want just includes a lot of Cishes and cuddling my meoww (he really shouldn’t consider that a taboo because we are “family”. Why block me meoww ).

Meowss I’m going to eat part 2 of dinner and start writing. I’ll be back here to tell you my pre-bed thoughts and tell you good night, when I go to bed. So see you later πŸ™‚ .


23:39 (11:39 PM)Β 

Meoww currently I’m a bath Catje.

Self-spoiling yays. That’s some “Gold” tea, a glass of water, soft cheese (forgot name), a mix of nuts and and a handful of M&M’s.

I haven’t started to write FangCatje yet. I’ve been reasoning out its structure and introduction. Tomorrow I will start writing – so I will be less elaborate in my diary (and also I don’t feel like going to the bank anymore).

The movie that was on during dinner was just too intriguing. Another bit of hope. I was so glad to see the movie Nightcrawler on Veronica (TV channel). It shows the shadiness in the news industry.


Though – I haven’t watched it until the end because I still don’t have the non-irritableness to watch movies (it’s still too barbaric for meΒΏ the immoral actions that are considered “good” or “funny”) – I heard that the fraudulent main character of the movie, creating fake news, had a “good” end, because his news company expanded. That’s a bummer.

Meoww I wonder how my mother would be if she’d live in my system. She’s so unnecessarily insecure about her intelligence, in the way she expresses herself. Probably because her secondary education was some levels lower than the one my father(ΒΏ I still don’t know), sister and I have followed a level that was a little higher. But – especially because discrimination was even more allowed back then – that doesn’t mean that she is less intelligent than my father. Her father had a status to protect and his mother was a social warrior (sending threatening letters to the school, saying that his primary school should give him an advice for a higher level of education (gymnasium instead of VMBO, basically).

Having spoken with her today about how she’s still interested in studying art history, makes me think that my Volta will be good to her. But no more emotionally hurting me then πŸ™ . Because otherwise I’ll stay fangy on this blog of mine.

Meoww everyone has such a special place in my heart. But I feel so let down by them. And often I think that it can’t be restored or improved. The way I still keep unnecessarily fatiguing myself, trying to keep telling everyone what they wish to know, makes me feel that I deserve a type of treatment that is soooooo much better.

But when I say things like that, I often get a “how dare you,” in return. When someone does something like that to me, I tend to watch my behavior so that I never do something like that again. In my 22 years of existence that has happened so often that I now am one big chunk of overthinkingness. Being aware that this is a result of bitch ass external factors, feeds my aggression. I have stopped correcting people in person a loooooong time ago.

That sums up my pre-bed thoughts. I’m going to soak a little more, maybe write down some more thoughts and later go to sleep. I’ll tell you more about how I plan to sell FangCatje tomorrow.

Good night ♥