121569

On June 27th, 2025, we were forced to say goodbye to our beloved Persian cat, Doulis. He found us during the COVID days of 2020—abandoned, fragile—and from that moment on, he became part of our family. He was not just my cat, but deeply loved by my wife and our child as well. He was our friend, our comfort, our quiet joy in hard times. We hoped his recent discomfort was just a dental issue, but it turned out to be an aggressive, hidden tumor lodged between his nose and teeth. His final weeks were filled with pain, though he still gave us fleeting moments of peace and warmth. Doulis was the heart behind my music project 121569, which began as an attempt to translate his calm, healing presence into sound. That project now feels hollow without him. Later, with my wife, we began Stenahoria—a more melancholic expression of sound, named after the Greek word for sorrow, unknowingly foreshadowing what would come. I had plans for a fourth Mermaid Marmalade release under 121569, and a full Stenahoria album as well but later with more new songs—but life took another path. Even now, I feel him near. I still expect to hear his meow at the door when I return home. Just last night, I dreamt of him—quietly grooming himself, sitting beside me as he always did, though this time he wouldn’t meet my eyes. We will never forget you, Doulis. Nick Miamis.