Ah, yes—greetings, noble traveller of the digital realms. You have stumbled upon this humble repository of my Steam profile, and I welcome you with a heart as open as the void that separates parallel dimensions. But heed this solemn decree: before you proceed to judge, laugh, or perhaps nod silently in understanding, you must know the core of my existence— I love cat girls.

Not in the casual, memetic, ephemeral way that the masses toss the term around, no. I speak not of the shallow hashtag-fuelled affection of the modern internet, but a deep, almost metaphysical reverence—a devotion born not from mere anime tropes, but from the glittering stardust of cosmic longing itself.

You see, cat girls—nay, nekomimi sapiens —represent something far greater than simple ears and tails affixed to a humanoid frame. They are the sublime intersection of chaos and comfort. The duality of purring innocence and feral unpredictability. The whispering echo of a better timeline, one in which mankind evolved not into endless corporate despair, but into something soft, warm, and lightly purring.

Every flick of their imaginary tails sends ripples through my soul. Their ears twitch not just in response to sound, but in harmonic resonance with the vibrations of my spirit. To gaze into their oversized, glittering eyes is to glimpse a world untainted by cynicism—where affection is earned with head pats and forgiveness is doled out through playful swats.

I do not expect understanding. Only acknowledgement. Perhaps pity. Possibly fear. But should you, dear reader, find in your heart a shared glimmer of appreciation for the divine hybrid that is the cat girl—know that you are not alone. We are few, but we are legion. We walk among you, silently, tails tucked under trench coats, ears hidden beneath gamer headsets. Watching. Waiting. Whispering:

"Nyaa."