@mc5punk 17 February 2026

Short story: The Mystery of the Black Cat: Chronicle of a Viral Trend with Whiskers

In a city where even the pigeons seemed to wear headphones and the streetlamps got more greetings than some neighbors, something happened that threw several timelines into temporary chaos: a short video, an even shorter line — “I study psychology and I perceive myself as a black cat” — and a tide of reactions ranging from admiration to the cruelest laugh. What follows is an expanded and developed version of that episode, told with humor, observation, and affection, preserving the dialogues that made it so vivid. Marina: the student who spoke in feline code Marina was a young woman who alternated notebooks of notes with sketchpads; in the latter, whiskers appeared more often than formulas. She studied psychology because she wanted to understand why people make certain decisions —and why she laughed when people tried to say “psychophysiology” without stumbling—. She wasn’t seeking fame, but she didn’t dislike the idea of her reflections being shared if they could open a conversation. One afternoon, in a practical class on symbols and identity, the professor proposed an exercise: describe in a sentence an image that summed up your way of relating to the world. Marina, inclined toward the theatrical, looked into her classmate’s phone camera and said with a tone that mixed seriousness and mischief: - Marina (looking at the camera, serious but with a mischievous smile): “I study psychology and I perceive myself as a black cat.” The video had no pretensions: it lasted twenty-three seconds, showed Marina reclining on a couch with eyeliner accentuating her gaze, and in the background a sketchbook full of strokes could be seen. But the phrase, ambiguous and poetic, was enough for the algorithm to do its work. Within hours the clip gathered thousands of views, shares, remixes, and comments of every kind. Iker: the friend who analyzed and amplified Iker, her best friend since adolescence, was the first to react with a mixture of pride and a sense of intellectual opportunity. - Iker (checking his phone with bulging eyes): “This is a sign, Marina! Either you’re reinventing yourself or you’re the origin of a new subculture.” - Iker (typing furiously): “I’m going to make a 12-part thread: ‘Black Cats and Their Sociocultural Impact on Millennials’.” Iker saw not just a viral line but the chance to weave references: Jung, archetypes, the performativity of gender, gothic aesthetics. His feed filled with academic quotes interspersed with cat memes. For him it was all analysis and intellectual progress; for others, it was simply perfect material for stickers. Doña Carmela: the neighbor with centuries’ worth of superstition experience From her third-floor balcony, Doña Carmela observed life with the authority of someone who had watched three generations grow up on the same street. News reached her by WhatsApp in audio form: nieces sending the clip, neighbors forwarding jokes, and a son-in-law commenting jokingly. - Doña Carmela (leaning over the balcony, spoon in hand): “In my day, if they saw you with a black cat they’d make you sweep the sidewalk until three in the afternoon.” - Doña Carmela (having received the video by WhatsApp): “But now young people speak oddly: I say the important thing is that she eats and doesn’t wander around afraid of umbrellas.” For Carmela, the issue was practical rather than philosophical: that the young woman ate, didn’t get soaked, and didn’t get carried away by dangerous trends. Still, she couldn’t resist adding her comment to the conversation: in her neighborhood black cats were pets, sardine thieves, and sometimes the protagonists of stories that began, “When I was your age…” Lucía: the influencer who turned the metaphor into a self-care trend Lucía lived by the algorithm. She sold routines, planners, inspirational phrases, and, occasionally, intimate confessions about her cat named Night. When Marina’s video began to go viral, Lucía saw a content (and sales) opportunity. - Lucía (filming her story): “Respect identities, friends. If someone perceives themselves as a black cat, welcome authenticity.” - Lucía (behind the scenes, whispering): “I have a black cat and it gave me zero views last month. I need a deeper copy.” Lucía defended freedom and personal expression with the same passion with which she packaged her wellness courses. She promoted a “Week of the Inner Cat,” proposed guided meditations with piano music and, of course, put a mystical feline-adorned planner on sale. For her audience the cause was noble; for her business, a potential conversion. Professor Salazar: the academic voice seeking nuance At the university, the matter did not go unnoticed. Professor Salazar, a psychology lecturer with glasses that always threatened to slip down his nose, received messages from students, emails from local media and, to his surprise, an invitation to a radio show. - Professor Salazar (entering the classroom with a coffee mug that seemed part of his anatomy): “Metaphor can be a legitimate form of self-description. Now, if someone claims literally to be a cat, that opens a diagnostic debate… and a controversial article for the journal.” - Professor Salazar (writing on the board): “Key concepts: identity, symbolism, performativity.” Salazar promoted a class discussion about the limits between the symbolic and the literal, invited students to review texts on representational identity, and had to moderate a debate that, in less time than a lecture, went from academic to emotional. Tomás: the troll who couldn’t resist As often happens in the digital public square, there was no shortage of mockery. Tomás, a young man with a penchant for sarcastic comments, always appeared on threads with a mix of wit and lack of empathy. - Tomás (commenting from the comfort of his couch): “Are meows accepted as payment for term papers?” - Tomás (when someone blocked him): “Well, it seems my career as an academic comedian suffers a setback.” His replies generated laughs in some and anger in others, fueling the polarization of opinions: while some demanded respect and understanding, others celebrated irreverence. The campus café: a microcosm of the controversy The discussion reached a peak when Marina decided, willingly, to go to the campus café with Iker. There they met other actors in the story: Doña Carmela appeared by surprise with a polka-dot umbrella, Lucía streamed live from her table, and several students watched, some with phones in hand, ready to document the meeting. - Iker: “The algorithm labeled you. Did you know?” - Marina: “I didn’t look for it. I said it in class as an exercise: we symbolize traits with images. But you see how the algorithm has ears… and whiskers.” - Doña Carmela: “If you’re going to be a cat, at least don’t let them leave you in the rain. I have a polka-dot umbrella.” - Lucía (to her audience): “This is a beautiful example of how identity is performed. Who wears eyeliner as a banner? Applause!” - Marina (laughing): “I accept applause, but also a clarification: I study psychology and I presented this as a metaphor. I don’t dream of kibble… yet.” The scene itself represented polarity: Marina’s metaphor generated empathy, irony, analysis, and commercial consumption simultaneously. The café became, for a few hours, an alternate set showing how a simple sentence can activate complex networks of meaning. The radio interview and the question of meaning Days later, Marina was invited to a local radio interview, when she had to summarize—without oversimplifying—what she had originally meant. - Host: “Marina, what do you mean by ‘I perceive myself as a black cat’?” - Marina (calmly): “I use that image to say something about how I relate to people: I’m observant, independent, and maybe a bit superstitious about replying to messages.” - Host (sincerely): “And the people who interpreted this literally?” - Marina: “I see two options: accept the metaphor or improve reading comprehension skills. Both valid.” The interview partly defused the immediate hysteria but sparked a deeper discussion: where are the boundaries between performativity, creative expression, and the interpretations society is willing to accept? The tide of reactions: from defense to merchandise In the public sphere, Marina’s line fueled conversations about identity and empathy. Some users argued that this form of self-description is a legitimate, creative way to communicate personal traits; others linked it to debates about mental health and the need for more careful language. In parallel—as happens with almost everything online—the viral wave had commercial and humorous sides: hoodies with the phrase went on sale, online petitions asked for symbolic recognition for the young woman, and montages proliferated that mixed her face with digital ears and whiskers. Climax and everyday consequences The episode peaked when a radio station dedicated substantial airtime and a university channel organized a panel on metaphor and identity politics. Iker took advantage of the attention to teach an improvised micro-workshop on viralization and narrative; Lucía capitalized with a viral challenge about “connecting with your inner cat” that lasted a week; Doña Carmela sold three umbrellas in a matter of days—two to tourists and one to a neighbor; and Tomás kept finding material for his jabs while others criticized him for lacking empathy. But on a personal level, what changed for Marina was subtler: she returned to class with more followers and, in her notebook, fewer whiskers and more academic quotes. Some classmates congratulated her for her capacity for synthesis; others looked at her with curiosity, trying to understand if her metaphor hid a deeper search. She, for her part, kept attending classes, doing exercises, and writing—this time with a bit more caution—but without renouncing her taste for metaphor. Epilogue: lessons, laughter, and a cat that didn’t bat an eye The episode left lessons of different kinds. Some people learned to distinguish headline from context; others learned that identity can be expressed in creative ways; a few were simply entertained by memes and gave in to the trend of drawing whiskers on photos. The university learned that small things can become big and that it helps to have protocols to manage media attention; the media learned that a well-placed line is fuel for hours of programming. In a café, amid laughs and cold coffee, Iker murmured something that seemed to sum up the tone of the experience: - Narrator (closing with a smile): “If you perceive yourself as a black cat, please warn us before you climb the rooftop of ideas.” And everyone laughed: Marina, Iker, Lucía, Doña Carmela, even Tomás, who laughed out of habit. In a corner, a real black cat—unconcerned with theories and labels—yawned, glanced dismissively at the table, and returned to its nap, certain that in the city, for every viral moment, there will always be someone willing to interpret the world as they please. The End. Source of the images. Image created with Bing.