Something is happening.
Do not tell me it is “too early.”
Do not show me the calendar.
I know.
The Air Has Changed π¬️πΎ
The air smells different. Not warm—hopeful.
Hope is suspicious.
It seeps through the window crack and wakes me from my nap like an unfinished thought. I sniff. I frown. I sit upright for no reason.
This is how it begins.
The Birds Are Lying Again π¦πΎ
Birds have returned to the balcony.
They chirp like they own the place.
I yell at them to remind them:
-
This is my territory
-
Spring does not start without my approval
-
They are early and therefore rude
They do not listen. I will yell louder.
My Body Has Entered Shed Mode πͺ️π±
I am leaving pieces of myself everywhere.
On the sofa.
On the clothes.
In places I have never been.
This is not mess. This is renewal.
If you find fur in your tea, congratulations—it is officially spring-adjacent.
My Sisters Feel It Too π⬛πΎπ
Spurka sits by the window longer than usual, tail flicking like a barometer. She says nothing, but her whiskers know.
Kitka stretches more deeply, like someone remembering a season she once loved. She naps with purpose now.
Lenka has entered Full Chaos Mode. She runs. She stops. She screams at nothing. This is instinct.
I Will Yell More Now π’πΌ
I yell because:
-
The sun is brighter
-
The mornings are louder
-
My soul is awake at 5 a.m.
This is not random screaming.
This is seasonal communication.
If you do not understand, that is your species’ problem.
Windows Must Be Opened (But Carefully) πͺ⚠️
I demand fresh air.
I demand warmth.
I demand access without consequences.
If the window is open:
-
I sit in it
-
I lean out dangerously
-
I scream at passing life
This is how spring is summoned.
Final Declaration πΈπ
Spring is coming.
I feel it in my paws, my whiskers, my unreasonable energy.
I will:
-
Nap less
-
Yell more
-
Stare intensely at nothing
And you will say:
“She’s acting strange.”
No.
I am responding to the earth.
Gryzka πΌπ·
No comments:
Post a Comment