2026-11-08 04:54:00
She floated weightless, in the vast nothingness, long full of power she had no need to use, no desire to use. She looked upon the world, and saw the people, their joy and sadness, their long depressions, and their eras of bliss. She – though their was no gender in this formless void – decided it was time to venture, to experience for herself.
Her will drifted across the world, looking for an anchor, looking for a place to cast her magic. She began as any human does, a clump of cells, dividing and multiplying. She would use her magic to command nutrients from her host. Her soul would see the sick mornings and the swollen feet and the sore back, though her new human form was too young to know any of it, too young to retain it. Her magic was powerful, though not without side-effects.
As she neared birth, and moved more, and poked at her new momma’s insides, she grew farther from her soul, less connected to the void, and her magic waned. Her soul would watch, and when it was all over, she’d remember everything. But as she went through it her new mind and body would rule, as her will commanded, as the will of many other souls had commanded before her, and would command again.
Again, she decided it was time to venture forth, and so she commanded mother to push her forth. Mother hurt, mother cried, mother pushed and pained. She called others forth to catch her, to help her take her first breaths, to make sure her baby form cried as it should.
Her soul agonized. After endless time of peace and bliss, she now suffered what so many others had. She considered letting go, but her magic drove forward stronger than she knew it could. She remained tethered to this infant form, and continued to cast her magic upon the world. She brought forth doctors and nurses – so many nurses – as well as Mother and Father to warm her and cool her and feed her and clean the mess she willed forth.
Weeks would pass and the food would come again and again, whether from Mother, Father, or a Friend, as she willed it so. Her magic was different in this world. Slower. Harder. But no less effective.
Father would look into her eyes – as he stared into them, he saw the void from which she came, from which they all came. The vast gray-blue beauty of it, though color only really meant anything with these human eyes. But they sparkled with a feeling like that of floating in infinite peace. Father and Mother would return to the void one day, but they’ve long forgotten of it. They would even fear it as it drew closer. Their souls were always watching, but their minds ruled as hers was coming to. Their souls knew the way of peace and the vastness of being, but their minds only knew earth.
As the years passed, her magic would change in form. Where once she could command food as she pleased through will and noise alone, now she must cast specific spells and overcome the barriers others had raised as their souls became passive. Spells like “Please” and “I’m hungry”. As she got older, the spells got more complicated – now she’d have to set totems and fabrics on their altars to bring forth the treats her insatiable taste buds longed for.
As her desires grew, so too did her magic weaken. When her wants were small – for breast, for bottle, for cuddles and play – all was fulfilled. Now her wants are many – for friends, for inclusion, for rest, for toys and more. The first time her magic truly failed her was in her 7th human year. She, and her peers, had grown far from the peace they had forever known. She’d felt a crush at school, had tried to hold his hand, and he said “ew” before running away.
Times like these her soul wondered why she’d formed, why she’d chosen this over peace, and when she would come back together as one. Such existential concerns were far from her mind though, which was filled with hurt. When Mother asked how her day was, her eyes filled with tears – a spell she’d learned and refined over her life so far. A very effective spell, she’d found, though Mother and Father both had some defenses against it. As she willed, Mother would hold her, pat her back, kiss her cheek. Mother would offer her treats too, if she carried the spell longer.
As her body grew more strength, her limbs grew longer, her mind grew smarter, the magic fell weaker and weaker. Hormones would flourish, though she had not willed it. Friends would reject her, though she had not commanded it. Boyfriends and girlfriends would break her heart, no matter what it demanded. So too would she be filled with love, with joy. She would play, learn new games, explore the world, her mind, and develop a complex life.
She came to adulthood and found how to live without her magic, which had been lost for years. She found love and built a life, worked a job, and one day a soul would anchor to her womb. She, too, would be put under the spell of a new form inhabited by a soul that had left it’s peace. She, too, would feel the magic Mother and Father had felt when she was born. She no longer knew it was magic. She could no longer wield it herself. And yet it filled her and directed her and grew within her, though it would mostly go dormant for years.
Her life continued, and her children would grow, and she would become tired. Her soul was beckoning, missing this part that had been gone for so long. Her soul had found it’s way into her mind, though the connection was weak. Her body began to weaken, and that stored-away magic began to work its way in the world again, though she resisted its use. Again she would command food to come to her, for others to clean her, to help her walk, and even lift and carry her at times.
Her soul’s tether grew stronger now, as her body was losing it’s connection to this world. Soon, she would return to the endless peace. She felt at peace, but feared it too. Though her soul knew her, she knew not where her soul came from.
Her children and some remaining friends would come, as she willed. She lost her words and her magic grew stronger. Again she would will food and for other needs to be filled. Now her wants would shrink, and she would need little so her magic was strengthened. She’d watch the tears come from her loved ones, their magic not strong enough to keep her here in this form. She would smile, full of love and joy. She would cry too, sad to be leaving them so soon.
Her body stopped one day, her mind and soul merged. She watched for awhile as her family and friends lived on. She looked upon the world, with it’s wars and hunger and fights for human rights. The world with its abundance and its laughs and immense diversity. For awhile.
Then she would put it aside. It would become but one part of her many selves, the many forms she would take over her infinite existence. She would love that version of herself, the souls she met in that form, though she would change, much as she had done throughout her human life. Once again, she floated in the infinite peace.
2026-11-08 01:39:06
“...and the fungus slowly grows in the frog’s brain.”
Mrs. Peach makes biology both more interesting and frightening than any class I’ve ever had.
“… involuntary movement.”
But I’m tired and I just want to go home.
“Is it Tuesday?” she looks down at her watch, puzzling as the sirens go off. The skies are clear, no sign of a storm. She checks her phone, buzzing on her desk. Our phones are on silent, but she gets to have hers out. She looks scared. It’s not our first tornado drill, what’s the big deal.
The knob turns and Mr. Garick sticks his head in “Jade, lockdown, now.” He turns to leave and a man is on him, knocking him to the ground as the door closes. Mrs. Peach drops her phone and runs to the door, locking it.
“Judy, close the curtains!” Judy’s always raising her hand and ruining the test curve. She’s the only girl on the football team – a catcher, or whatever you call it. Timmy gets up from the back and covers some windows while Judy gets the others. There’s a bang on the door, and a footsteps in the hall. And screaming.
“Whats going on!” some of the other kids cry.
“Back of the room! Shh,” Mrs. Peach whisper-yells at us. There’s blood coming through the bottom of the door. There’s loud bangs outside, guns. Mrs. Peach is shaking. She grabs keys out of her purse, fiddles around under her desk, and comes out holding a handgun. Murmurs from some of the kids. Horror struck silent phases from others among us. Bobby’s weeping while Timmy holds her and shushes her.
The door is rattling. Judy’s pushing the large teacher’s desk toward the door when the glass window shatters behind. Mrs. Peach raises the gun to shoot at the bloody woman coming through, one of her arms half-missing. Judy takes the bullet to the head before the woman gets on her. Mrs. Peach shoots a bunch more times, killing the woman too. Judy’s blood is spattered on the text books piled up on the counter. Everybody’s screaming. Most of us.
Bobby grab’s my shoulder – I guess she’s calm now. She’s got a knife out. Timmy’s following her and I get up and go too. Mrs. Peach is just standing here. Eyes wide. Closer to the bodies, to the window. “Wait,” I say. They’re not waiting. I grab a box of ammo from that safe. I take the gun. She was about to drop it anyway. Some of the other kids are following us.
I’ve been hunting since I was 9. First time I killed something, my mom had missed the heart. The deer was crying. I shot it in the head, shattered one of the antlers. I want to put Mrs. Peach out of her misery. She’ll never be the same again. If this is what I think it is, she won’t make it out of this anyway. I probably won’t either. But I shouldn’t waste the ammo. And there’s no time to think on it. I hurry out the window and catch up to Bobby and Timmy.
Bobby stabs a man in the heart who was charging at her. Timmy helped push him off so as not to topple on Bobby. He lies there, still. The knife is stuck and more are coming. I start running. Timmy pulls Bobby by the arm and they follow after.
There’s not a lot of “people” out here. Thankfully. Some of them tripping on themselves. We’ve run across the grass, across the playground, and jump over the fence meant to keep us safe from going into traffic. There’s only a few cars on the road right now, and they seem none too bothered or hurried. Whatever’s going on, it must be on the radio by now – then again, they’re probably listening to podcasts or music and who knows if they’ll get the message. Most of us just ignore the alerts on our phones anyway. Some child kidnapping. Some weather event. Who knows.
Jacob pulls up in his truck, stopping and yelling for us to get in. Timmy hops in passenger while Bobby and I get in the bed. He drives off, squealing the tires, jerking us around when he turns. Bobby grabs the ammo that I tossed in before jumping in myself.
“SLOW DOWN” Bobby yells. I put the safety back on after the first time I almost flew out. Jacob does take the next few turns a bit slower, and we don’t fly out as we cross over the railroad tracks. That’s a start. The sirens are blaring. There’s gunshots all over. I don’t dare stick my head up.
“I bet it’s that fungus.” She just looks at me. “From class today?” She just looks at me. I sigh. I want to cry, but things will need to calm down first. I wonder if they will. We just lie there, looking at eachother.
The guns fade into the distance. We’re on a country road now, heading out of town. Jacob pulls over and tells us to get in the cab. It’s a four seater; we were in a hurry before.
“We have guns and food out at the farm.” Jacob’s family has an old farmhouse on long-ago stolen land.
“AP says it’s a neurological infection. The radio’s calling them Zombies.” Timmy had been googling while Jacob drove.
“That one died from a stab to the chest,” Bobby said. “Seemed like it anyway.”
“I should’ve shot Mrs. Peach.”
“What the FUCK, Jimmy.” Yeah. Jimmy & Timmy. It’s a peach.
“She was … She was gone. You didn’t see the look in her eye.”
“Nobody’s replying. Not my mom, dad. Max and Esther. Judy. Oh fuck. Judy. Right.” Timmy’s voice cracked.
“My phone’s back in my locker.”
“Mine too.”
“Jacob’s was in the glove box.”
“… the marines are deploying in Maine, where the outbreak is widespread. The president is planning to bomb the city where it started. But it looks like it started in a lot of places, and spread slowly at first.”
“Turn that off!”
“Jimmy, we need to know.” She was right.
And so we listened as the bombs approached. We wouldn’t make it to the farm in time. The shelter probably wouldn’t survive anyway.
2026-11-03 01:55:00
I've made a lot of new friends recently, and I really like them. I have fun hanging out with them. It makes me happy.
After a group hangout, when the night settles down, my mind spins and spins. Replaying things they said, things I said, analyzing my feelings, etc.
I've also been talking to a woman - a crush - recently. I had asked her out, mainly because I just found her so super cute. We've been talking online but haven't met yet. I think I really like her - I don't really know until we spend some quality time together. And I also find myself ruminating about her a lot.
It occurred to me last night that most of the rumination is pinned to some kind of feelings. With my crush, I'm excited, I'm nervous, I'm wanting more of her. With one of my new friends, I'm feeling a really strong bond, just feeling really connected, and I adore them. With other of the new friends, I feel happiness, curiosity, reluctance, and other things.
The crush and friendships are all still new. My feelings are still a mixed bag, a mess that I don't really understand. I don't yet know what kind of relationships will settle from them. Will my crush become a partner? Will we even date? Will we be friends if that doesn't work out? Will my one friend become a bestie? Will I find a meaningful connection with the other friends, and what will those friendships be like?
It is a lot of uncertainty, about the future, about what I'm feeling right now, about what all these people are feeling toward me.
And so it all feels kind of fragile. Like I (or someone else) could do something that would take away all this new wonderful stuff, all these new wonderful people and experiences, from my life. I'm afraid of losing these friends, this crush. I want these friendships to grow. I want this romance to grow. And I'm afraid they won't.
My normal response to this fear is to comfort myself. While it has it's place, I'm not so sure this is healthy for me.
"Well, if she's not interested in me, there are other people I can date." Yeah. There are. That's a reason not to catastrophize. Like, this isn't my last-chance or anything. But I like her, and if she rejects me, that would hurt and I wouldn't get to know her better. I'm afraid she'll reject me, and it's okay that I'm afraid of that. I need to let myself feel it.
If my new friends reject me, yes I have other friends, I have family, and can make more friends yet. But I want these friends; I don't want to lose them.
I think this is where a lot of the rumination comes from, really. This back-and-forth between my feelings and the rejection of those feelings. When I respond to these completely reasonable fears by comforting myself, I'm rejecting what I'm actually feeling. And it just spins up this cycle. My brain goes "here's another reason to worry" and I respond with "Well I don't need to worry because ____", so my brain offers another, and I reject it again.
But okay, brain. You're right. There are reasons to worry. There are things to be afraid of.
I shan't let them consume me. I can't sit in fear and worry forever.
But the funny thing is ... if I just let myself feel it, it passes.
2026-10-28 02:57:00
I sat down to meditate last night, and an unpleasant thought popped into my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut and used all my mental energy to stop the thought - it was a visual thought that I didn't want to see.
I promptly identified it as an intrusive thought, as I have identified many other "intrusive" thoughts over the years.
Then I wondered what makes this thought intrusive, but other pop-up thoughts not intrusive, thus beginning a think session before meditation proper.
I don't really know how my thoughts bubble up, even the ones I'm looking for, but when I have desirable thoughts, its because my focus is pointed toward them. My attention is on them. And it is there purposefully, because I want my attention on them.
When I'm meditating or just going through my day, thoughts will pop into my head. A lot of replaying social situations, anticipating social situations, worrying about the future. Stuff like that. When those thoughts pop up, I'm often caught up in them, they pull me, I turn my focus toward them.
Are these not also intrusive?
Certainly not in the same way as when I hear "I hope [loved one] dies" in my head. I don't identify with that thought. I don't agree with that thought. I don't turn my focus toward it and explore it. I don't really want them to die. But it is a thought. It is in my head. But is it really so different than "I hope [loved one] is having a good day?"
I think I identify thoughts as "intrusive" not when they intrude on my attention, but when they intrude on my sense of self, when I dislike them, when I reject them, when I don't want them, when they are shameful.
Calling them "intrusive" has its utility, but it also serves as a way of distancing myself from them. It says: This shameful thought is not my thought. It was forced upon me.
Thoughts come. I experience them. Often feelings come, too, and I experience those. Sometimes I really don't like the feeling that comes with the "intrusive" thought. And then I clam up. I fight with myself. I argue. I justify. I correct. I judge.
I think I take too much responsibility for my inner world, and I hold my moral standards to what's going on inside of me. I judge myself as "bad" if the thoughts are shameful, if they're things I wouldn't say, thoughts I wouldn't discuss, even for the sake of getting support.
And I react strongly to my thoughts.
That moment where I slam my eyes shut and force my mind blank. The reactive voice that says "that's mean".
The thoughts often come with feelings, and these feelings are not reactive, but merely part of my human experience. But then I have feelings of guilt and shame that follow, and those feelings are reactive.
So I thought through all of this last night. And then I began my meditation proper.
I've long heard the instruction to "observe" thoughts and "let them go", to not become attached to them. But last night was the first time I had a meaningful understanding of this. Last night was the first time I saw a clear distinction between the thoughts that come and the reactivity that follows. I was able to see which part was "happening" and which part I was "doing". I was able to feel it, as there is a particular sensation to it.
In recognizing this, I found myself finally able to observe thoughts, not get pulled into every single one of them, able to be non-reactive.
I've been meditating on-and-off for almost 20 years. I've been meditating almost every night for a year now.
A few days ago, I was feeling bored at the idea of my usual meditation - simple breath awareness: "I know I am breathing in; I know I am breathing out." But I encouraged myself to show up and do this same meditation anyway. That this was an opportunity for growth. That moving through this boredom and disinterest was a way to deepen my practice. I was right.
It's a little amazing to me that ... for quite some time, I've felt fairly stagnant in my meditation practice. It's been great for me mentally. It helps me sleep. It does improve my default mental state. But in terms of depth and spirit, I felt I had stagnated. And now I've had this sort of breakthrough, which helped me go deeper last night than I have in a long time. It feels like I unlocked a new state for my mind to operate in. A healthier state.
And beyond the meditation, to my life as a whole, I've advanced the relationship I have with myself, enhanced the relationship I have with my thoughts. I'm not sure what I will do with the label "intrusive thought". If anything, I believe I will expand it to capture a wider variety of thoughts - both pleasant and unpleasant ones.
I might drop the "intrusive" label all together. I'm not entirely sure it serves me anymore.
I recognize more deeply that thoughts come to me. I hear them, see them. Feelings often come with them. And then I am reactive to those thoughts and feelings.
I am responsible for the actions I take. But I think I need to take less responsibility for the plethora of things that pop up in my head. When I overhear a neighbor say something problematic, I don't take responsibility for that; When I overhear my mind mutter something problematic, perhaps I don't need to own that either. Nor do I need to distance myself from it. Just hear it. It's there. It's okay. I'm okay.
I'm curious to see where this will lead me. I know my meditations will not all be deep. It could be a day, a week, or even several months before I have another meditation like I did last night. These things kind of come-and-go. But this was meaningful for me, powerful for me, and I'm excited to see where it goes.
2026-10-27 04:05:30
Real Life Cartographers place "phantom settlements" on their map so they can prove copyright infringement if other mappers copy their work.
SPOILERS ABOUND
In The Cartographers, these phantom settlements are real, as long as you have the map in-hand when approaching them.
seriously, I'm going to spill the entire plot now
So. This book starts with an absolutely amazing premise - that maps contain magic, that real physical spaces can be created by adding them to maps. This is an idea I absolutely love. This book explores this magical idea to a mediocre degree. Insofar as it deals specifically with the map-magic, I like this book, and it does a pretty decent job. But the overall plot, the character development, and many technical aspects are just ... not very good.
Nell Young was working in the map division at the New York Public Library when she found a 1930s New York State road map. She presented that map, and others, to her father - who led the map division. He was furious and refused to let her start the project. Her boyfriend Felix defended her. They both got fired and Nell spent 7 years not speaking to her father, before he was murdered. Felix and Nell broke up because Felix was mad at Nell for getting him fired.
Nell returns to The Library after her father's murder and finds that old 1930s New York State road map, which has a phantom settlement on it called Agloe. Her Father & Mother had a group back in college, and they called themselves "The Cartographers". Nell reconnects with some of those people while investigating the map and her father's death. It takes awhile, but she learns that Agloe is a phantom settlement and that maps have real magic.
Nell also reconnects with Felix after her father's death, asking him for help with the map. They have a series of problems that are at about a middle-school level of maturity, despite both of them being in their mid-to-late 20s. It's pitiful. They end up on good terms by the end, but god they're both such fucking babies. And Nell (and those around Nell) blame her for the relationship failing, when actually Felix is an asshole. The book and characters in it make Nell responsible for Felix. Like he's mad that she is "putting maps before him". But like, bro, she has her own life, is an individual, and you're a fucking adult. Get over yourself. The maps, and the investigation about her father are NOT ABOUT FELIX. He's being immature and possessive and controlling, and the book seems to think Nell is wrong for not ... obeying.
So anyway. When Nell was 2 years old, 'The Cartographers' found Agloe and started a mapping project. Wally - her mom's best friend - went a little crazy. He scoured the planet for all copies of the 1930s map. The whole friend group had a bunch of drama and problems - petty shit that a tight-knit group (even college-aged) should have been able to work through, at least a little bit. Their story ends when wally sets all the maps on fire, causing Agloe to disappear, and apparently killing Nell's mom.
WELL. Agloe didn't disappear. Nell's mom was alive. She lived in Agloe for 25 years, continuing to work on her map of it. Nell's dad had kept the 1930s map a secret, and Nell's mom had stayed in Agloe, to keep them safe from Wally. The only reason Wally was a danger to anybody is BECAUSE HE WANTED THE FUCKING MAP. The only thing they needed to do to keep Nell & her mom safe was to GIVE WALLY THE MAP. But instead Nell grew up without a mom, her mom spent 25 years isolated from society .... it's just fucking stupid.
In the end, Wally gets arrested for his many crimes, her mom is freed, Agloe is saved, and Nell is revealing Agloe to the world. Felix and Nell will probably reconnect, but we don't know for sure.
My problem with the plot is that ... the central conflicts just are not convincing to me. Wally's motivations are, just ... they don't feel sufficient. Nell's parents' fear of Wally also seems ridiculous - especially since they never re-considered how to handle the situation over the course of 25 years. The relationship issues with Felix are just stupid, and poorly written, and takes a bad perspective, and I don't like it.
And there's a lot of technical issues with the writing, in my opinion. Like early on, there is a cop investigating the murder (and a subsequent break-in to the library) and the interactions with him just feel so ... poorly executed. The dialogue just feels ... idk. Not right.
I actually mostly enjoyed reading this book. But there were so many deficiencies with it.
And it could have done so much more with the map magic. I think the map magic is a really awesome concept, but it just wasn't explored enough. The book was more interested in character drama and internal thought processes than it was in the world it had created. That's really just a personal preference - I care more about the world and the magic stuff. But the character drama wasn't very good. It was frustratingly immature. I want thoughtful characters, mature characters, and characters who grow as people. Characters who make mistakes and take accountability for them. Drama that is born out of deep challenges rather than shallow immaturity. I'm down for some relationship drama. But like ... not when it's just because you're both incapable of having respect for yourselves and eachother.
I have a feeling this book would land really well for younger readers. I was definitely super interested in the over-arching plot. I think less critical readers may find the full plot and the characters satisfying. I never really wanted to stop reading the book. But my dominant feeling when I finished it was "that was fucking stupid". Entertaining story. But ultimately, "fucking stupid" is my opinion.
2026-10-24 11:05:33
I've had butterflies in my tummy for the past 6 hours.
I've been going to an improv class at my local library, and loving it. So our instructor signed us up for an event that is tomorrow - it's a clue-style murder-mystery thing. 5 of us will be playing suspects, while attendees will be investigating the crimes and figuring out who's guilty of which murder.
In 3 months, there have been 3 classes. I feel pretty good about my improv skills, but this is a two hour continuous-improv rather than small games & scenes like we've done in class. I'm excited for it. I think it's going to be a lot of fun, and I think we're going to do great. It's nervewracking too though! I also struggle with my mental health so there's an added layer of "Am I going to be feeling okay tomorrow? Am I going to sleep well tonight?" Let's hope so.
BUT another thing.
So there's this woman, who I've only half-met, who's not from our class, who's also acting tomorrow. And I find her so cute. I've had a crush since I saw their picture in the group chat ... and then during our practice session, she just also seemed really cool.
So I'm planning to ask her out for a cup of coffee ... at the end of the event. Let's not introduce potential awkwardness before we get started lol. I'm really nervous about that though. I might chicken out, but I hope not. I hope she's interested (and single!). It's been a long time since I've been on a date, or even had much interest in going on one.
