#it's about the first plane of existence the gods actually created to maintain life

[magic-allity]

What sorts of things or aspects do you like to get to know about a character and their story? Like, if you were to make some sort of form or layout, what criteria or questions would you ask?

[pricechecktranslations]

E.A.T. Prologue; Scene 6

E.A.T. Prologue pages 20-34

“—The parallel world we visited first, the ‘World of Giants and Beastmen’…There, we were subject to the situation where all of the residents of the manor excluding myself and Fry were murdered. …Though well, Ron has a deathless body, so he revived again immediately afterwards.”

Ron scratched his head as he listened to Lich’s story, his mood a touch complicated.

Miserably enough, he’d been the first one to get cut down by the traitor Jarre.

But as Lich said he was revived quickly, and after that under Lich’s orders he had given his undivided attention to maintaining the “Fat Man” that powered the mansion’s movement, it having become unsteady.

Lich’s explanation continued.

“Fortunately, aside from Ron the residents of this manor were already souls to begin with. I had made them bodies out of a special mud, and it was these that they were all dwelling inside. The ‘Soul Archives’ we have packed into the ship…Inside them is the data that forms the basis of each soul. In other words, as long as the ‘Soul Archives’ are not destroyed, then we can be resurrected as many times as needed, even if our bodies are destroyed.”

However.

There was a problem with that.

They could come back if they had bodies, but the reverse was also true—without a body, they would remain souls, unable to be revived.

“There wasn’t any of the ‘mud’ suitable for use in creating new bodies in the ‘World of Giants and Beastmen’.”

So then, Lich had been forced to use different bodies instead.

The only thing he was able to come up with in those circumstances were the ones who had attacked the manor—

The corpses of the bunny hero Jarre and his friends.

“For everyone other than Lady Banica, the bodies and souls were successfully compatible. However—”

Ron made a guess on seeing Lich’s clouded expression. “They didn’t work for Lady Banica. Why is that?”

After casting his eyes down for a moment, Lich looked up and replied, “—The only thing I can think of is a difference in the quality of her soul.”

“…? What does that mean?”

“Arte, Pollo, myself, and Eater…Seth as well I suppose—the quality of our souls is a little bit different from that of the average human. To put it in a way that you would understand, Mr. Ron…Basically, ours are souls are closer in nature to that of ‘gods’.”

“…”

Ron felt that he really didn’t actually understand that at all, but he could grasp the part about them not being “average humans” at least.

“However, Lady Banica…was originally a normal human being.”

That was true.

If she hadn’t been set upon and bewitched by a demon…she would have led her life as a normal person, and died that way.

“Through her contract with Vlad—with the demon, her soul had gained some particular properties; but that contract was broken before we set out on this journey. The demon did not come with us, opting instead to remain in our original world, and so at present it’s impossible to renew that contract.”

“So then…now we can’t resurrect Lady Banica?”

Lich replied, looking over at Ron as he pressed him for answers, “…We have several methods. The first is to search for ‘mud’ suitable for making her a new body. But there’s no guarantee that we’ll be able to find any hereafter in the course of our journey.”

“…What if we returned to our original world? There would be mud to make a body with there, surely?”

But Lich shook his head.

“That would be difficult. There’s an obstacle to it.”

“An obstacle?”

“A ‘ghost’. You recall that some trouble occurred the first time we shifted to a new plane, yes?”

“Yeah, I remember…Some trouble with an unknown cause put us on the verge of crashing—”

“Through my investigations afterward, I have determined that the cause was the ‘Ma Ghost’.”

“What…in the world is that?”

“A ‘pure evil’ that was responsible for our world being destroyed…You could call it an amalgamated entity. Though as of yet I’m not that clear on the specifics. Whatever the case, what is certain is that it’s a being that tries to destroy everything that comes in or out of that world.”

Lich advised that going back would be too dangerous until they’d found some method of dealing with it.

“So then, the other option available to us is…to find Lady Banica’s ‘alter ego’.”

“…I’m not smart like you are. I’d appreciate it if you could try to avoid using such specialized terminology when possible.”

“To put it simply, it’s a being that has Lady Banica’s ‘alternate self’. There’s a chance of one existing in every parallel world. Well…truthfully this is outside of my area of expertise…All this is assuming you believe what Seth has told us.”

“Shall I explain in more depth?” Seth cut in.

But Lich firmly shook his head.

“That’s enough. I’m certain that if we go on for too much longer you’ll just start rambling on contents entirely inconsequential to myself and Mr. Ron.”

“I suppose. I just thought this would finally be a good opportunity to talk about my advanced theory, so that’s unfortunate.”

Ron pondered over the current discussion and then concluded, trying to help himself understand in his own way, “So you’re saying we need to find this ‘alter-ego’…this alternate Lady Banica that might be in this parallel world?”

“That’s basically it. In the majority of cases the alter-ego will be different from Lady Banica in appearance, personality, and even name and identity. However, the soul will be of the same quality as Lady Banica’s…To put it another way, the body that the soul dwells inside has a high probability of being compatible with Lady Banica.”

And there, Ron recalled something.

The girl that Lich had brought over earlier.

“Could it be…that that girl with the horn is Lady Banica’s—”

“Yes. She is, without a doubt, Lady Banica’s ‘alter-ego’ that exists here in this ‘World of Angels and Demons’.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Through analysis of the Akashic Record.”

“Sigh. I’ve no idea whatsoever what this ‘Akashic Record’ is…but if you say so, then it must be right.” Ron then said, adopting a more depressed attitude, “…Are you going to kill the girl?”

“I suppose I’ll have to. Only one soul can dwell in a single body. I don’t know what the risk is of forcibly pushing a second one in.”

“Do we…have the right to do that? To steal a person’s life for our own gain.”

But Lich calmly replied, not even pretending to look unsettled in the least, “Of course we do.”

“…Hmph, that’s right. You are all ‘beings close to gods’, of course. But…I’m not. Even if I’ve become like this, I was originally a normal human. I…can’t accept you doing such a thing.”

“Then what are you saying we should do? The way things are now, Lady Banica will forever be a disembodied soul. Are you alright with that?”

“…”

“To resurrect Lady Banica, we need to kill her alter-ego and obtain her body—Right now, that’s the only choice we have.”

He said that, but Ron still wasn’t convinced.

--When Banica had made her contract with the demon, Ron had already become one of the living dead, and so had no way to stop her.

He’d been unable to stop her falling to ‘evil’.

He couldn’t let the same thing happen again.

…Before, there had been another option available for Ron.

To follow the will of the gods and pass through that ‘gate’, carrying out his reincarnation.

But with his soul bound to a physical body, Ron hadn’t known…what would happen to him when he entered that ‘gate’.

Maybe his curse would have been lifted.

But he had no proof that it would.

In short, it was a sink-or-swim situation.

Some of Ron’s former family had been among the souls who’d passed through the ‘gate’.

But Ron felt that too much time had passed to earnestly rejoice in reuniting with them.

And apparently these family members would have ultimately had their memories erased as soon as they went through the ‘gate’ anyway.

He wasn’t afraid of that in itself.

Whether he died or was erased, it was all the same.

Rather, Ron had always wished before that his curse could be lifted so he could finally die.

“All people…die someday. People all fear death while they’re alive. But…I also know the suffering of being unable to die!” Ron shouted, full of emotion.

But Lich merely chuckled at that, and said back, “Hahah. That’s true. You wandered the world as a living dead man for centuries. It certainly must have been painful. But those are after all just your personal feelings. It has nothing to do with Lady Banica.”

“Perhaps so…But that’s not for you to decide on your own.”

As a tense atmosphere flowed between the two of them, Seth’s voice cut in once more.

“Ah--…It sounds like there’s solid reasoning in both of your arguments from what I’m hearing.”

“Shut your yap, Seth.”

“Now now Lich, don’t be so cruel. In times like these, I think it’s best…to let the person herself decide, don’t you think?”

“…? What do you mean?”

“—Come out now, kitty,” Seth called.

That very moment.

A cat suddenly raced out from below the chair Lich was sitting in.

“A cat…What’s a cat doing here?”

Ron gazed upon the cat with confusion.

On the other hand, Lich…was clearly disturbed.

And then he started shouting at the mask on the wall.

“Seth! You bastard…You’ve taken too much of a liberty!”

Then, after the cat jumped up to Lich’s knees, it descended upon his face.

And started quickly scratching at his cheeks with its claws.

“Ow!?”

Lich tumbled backwards out of his chair while the cat landed calmly on the ground, giving him a side-eye.

Looking up at him, the red-furred cat said—

--Yes, the cat…emitted a human voice.

It was the third time he’d witnessed such a scene today alone, so that in itself was naturally not all that surprising to Ron.

The problem was, this voice was unmistakably that of Banica Conchita herself.

“Calm down, Lich…And you too, Ron.”

“L-Lady Banica!?”

Ron’s eyes opened wide, and he peered down at the cat before him.

“Ha ha ha!” He could hear Seth’s loud laughter from the mask. “I felt sorry for Banica, having to stay as a soul until we found the alter-ego. Prodigy that I am, I prepared a temporary body for her! …Though, well, it’s just a simple animate plushy, a replica of something that I made long ago for a different purpose.”

“I see…Or, that’s what I’d like to say. Hah. Truly, there’s never a dull moment with you all around.” After heaving a great sigh, Ron started speaking to Banica. “It may be temporary, but thank goodness that you had a body prepared for you, Lady Banica…In any case, doesn’t this solve the problem?”

“What are you talking about. This body can only drink milk.”

“Oh, you can drink milk.”

“I’ll dry up if I don’t take in moisture.”

It was plainly evident that this was a little bit different from a normal plushy. In terms of its properties it seemed to be similar to the mud bodies that Lich made.

“Lady Banica…What do you intend to do now? Will you make your alter-ego’s body your own after all—”

“Hmm…I’m not sure.” Banica hopped into the chair that Lich had been sitting in a few moments before. “I caught a glance of her earlier…Her looks aren’t too bad. Though I’m a little concerned about that horn on her forehead. There’s a bigger problem than that, though…”

Banica looked up at Lich as he finally stood.

“Lich, that girl…seems to be blind.”

“Yes, you are correct. …Let me explain a little bit on her.”

Lich drew up to the front-most monitor in the cockpit and flicked its switch.

What came up to the screen was something that looked like a map and several pieces of information.

“First, about this world that we’re in now…This place is nicknamed the ‘World of Angels and Demons’. Needless to say, it’s another parallel world of the Third Period. In terms of climate, chemical configuration, and various other factors it greatly resembles the world of Evillious where we used to live…The biggest difference is in the species that dominates this world.”

Banica replied to Lich’s explanation, “The world we were in before was ruled by giants and beastmen. Is this place along similar lines?”

“Yes. The beings that govern this world…Or to be more accurate, used to govern it—was a species called ‘demons’.”

“Demons…Huh. Those were in our world too.”

“The ‘demons’ of this world are vastly different from the like of the ‘Demon of Deadly Sin’ that you once contracted with, Lady Banica. The ‘Demons of Deadly Sin’ were beings that could be said to share kinship with gods; the ‘demons’ of this world are…It would probably be best to just think of them as a kind of race. In other words, little more than a variety of demi-humans.”

“Moving on then…You just said that they ‘used’ to govern this world. So then…you’re saying they don’t anymore.”

Lich nodded.

“That’s right. Unfortunately, this world is already in a state of ruin. A race called ‘angels’ who didn’t like the existence of demons had waged war upon them.”

Apparently Lich couldn’t find out many of the particulars on these ‘angels’ even after some investigation.

“At present, at least, they don’t exist in this world any longer. Either they’ve already gone extinct, or else they’ve taken refuge somewhere where we can’t sense them with the mansion’s devices…”

Assuming that was even possible, Lich amended.

“What we do know is that those ‘angels’ were a race of humanoids that had wings on their back.”

“How do you know that?”

“That girl…Baum, she said so. She heard the sound of my wings flapping and mistakenly thought that I was an angel.”

There, Ron raised his hand and asked Lich, “I hate to butt in, but…When you brought that girl here, Sir Lich, you had changed form into a black bird. As far as I know…you didn’t have an ability like that before.”

“Ah…About that…While I was shifting Pollo and the others’ souls into the beastmen bodies, I quickly did something of an ‘experiment’ using my own body, just to be sure. To check to see that it wouldn’t be rejected or anything.”

A side effect had occurred with Lich’s body as a result…Before he knew it, he had gained that power of transformation.

“…You take unnecessary risks, you know.”

“Well, it’s thanks to this ability I was able to gain her trust and quickly bring her here.”

“…Wait just a second. There’s something odd in what you’ve just said, isn’t there?” This time it was Banica who asked Lich a question. “From what you’ve told us, this girl is a ‘demon’, right? Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then if she’s convinced you’re an ‘angel’, a group that opposed hers…Why would that make her trust you?”

“I didn’t know that she thought I was an ‘angel’ when we first met, so I just normally offered her help. I said I would take her to a safe place, given that she’d lost her sight and was injured. It probably…left a deep impression on her, to hear those words coming from an ‘angel’, who should have been her enemy. There is that proverb after all, ‘Yesterday’s enemies could be today’s friends’. Naturally, you could also say that I pulled it off with my natural charisma, haha.”

Banica replied to Lich’s boasting with an unamused expression. “You don’t honestly believe that, do you?”

“Ha ha, of course not. …I’m positive she came with me intending to kill me when I was asleep.”

Ron looked imploringly up to the heavens in astonishment. “Have you forgotten what caused this entire situation, Lich?”

“It won’t turn out like with Jarre, Ron. The other ‘demons’ are all but wiped out, and she herself doesn’t have any particular abilities. I’m sure we can deal with her.”

“Are you really so sure?”

Ron didn’t seem convinced, but Banica on the other hand let out a relaxed laugh.

“Haha, you worry too much, Ron.”

“But…”

“For now at least let’s listen to Lich’s full explanation…Please, continue.”

Taking Banica’s invitation, Lich cleared his throat and resumed his speech.

“—About that girl in particular…Her name is Baum Kuren. She was the imperial princess of the ‘Prasino Empire’, which used to rule over the demons. The Prasino Empire struggled against the angels to the very end, but my investigation tells me that all but Baum were killed off by the angels.”

On hearing that, Banica made a sound of pity.

“Oh my…She must be brimming with thoughts of revenge.”

“Baum herself lost her eyes after being burned by the angels. I said this earlier, but I am completely certain that she is your alter-ego, Lady Banica. …Though, naturally, I intend to do another inspection after this.” Lich once more turned to Banica, and said with a resolute demeanor, “Lady Banica. Please give me permission to kill Baum Kuren. I’ll make sure not to do any harm to the body itself. Once it’s all finished, you will be able to obtain a body that you can freely take meals in again. You wouldn’t be stuck in such a useless cat body as—”

Banica leaped at Lich and scratched his face once more.

“Who are you to call your master useless?”

“Ouch, ow…No, I didn’t mean it like that…”

“…Alright. You’ll need to do something about her eyes first. There’s no way I’m going to be blind when I return to a regular body.”

“Right, never fear on that front. With my skills I should have little trouble restoring her eyes.”

Seth had been silent for a while now, but there he opened his mouth to speak.

…Or rather, given that he didn’t currently have a mouth, it was more that they simply heard his voice.

“Going to reconstruct her eyeballs, hm? You certainly have the ability…but where are you going to get the materials?”

“I don’t have any mud, but I do have the beastmen corpses. I’ll look for someone among them who has suitable eyes.”

“I doubt that’ll work out. Beastmen and demons…Have you forgotten that these are races from two different worlds?”

“I’ll manage. You shut up, Seth.”

“Right…Well, I’ll just pray that you putting beastman genes into your body didn’t make you stupid as a side effect.”

Banica jumped from Lich’s head back down to the ground.

“Well, at any rate we’ll have to postpone this discussion until her eyes are fixed.”

“Yes…That shouldn’t take me long to do.”

“Hmm. I’m counting on you, Lich.”

“Yes my lady. Now then…I’d like to start making preparations for my work right away,” Lich said, rushing out of the cockpit.

“…Lady Banica.” Ron walked up to the red cat and began speaking to her. “Do you really intend to take that girl’s body for your own?”

“Well, maybe, maybe not…What would you think if it was you, Ron?”

“Huh? If what were me?”

“Your alter-ego, another you from a different world. If such a person appeared before you.”

“…I don’t know.”

“As for me…I’m quite excited over the whole thing!”

To Ron it looked like the cat’s eyes were sparkling.

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[hellishhin]

Hello, hello! Day 18: what is the potential apocalypse that stands to happen? Actually, who's the greatest villain they have to face? Have they known from the beginning whom they faced? If not, what would have they thought if they had learned about the villain early on?

Hi! I'm definitely going to give plenty of information and only leave out some details that might be fun to reveal later. I think this will be a great way to see if people will be interested in continuing to follow my story! I'll put a cut in case someone doesn't want any hint at all as to what happens but I don't feel like this is very spoilery.

I will start with the main, true apocalypse scenario. There are other bad things I will mention here but aren't threats to the entire world, just Sadie's entire world.

Our huge baddie that shows up a ways into the story is called Malgartesh the Depraved. He was released into the world in a secret way because that reveal is killer. He is basically the gods' first attempt at humans. They created these beings who looked similar but very quickly turned on the gods to make a bid for higher power. The gods decided to start over and wiped out this race of beings but not before Malgartesh made his own move.

In D&D lore there is something called the Book of Vile Darkness. It is an almost sentient book containing the multiverse's absolute worst deeds and spells and instructions to do things as heinous as killing gods. Leaving some details out, Malgartesh got himself locked inside this book by mistake while trying to learn how to destroy the gods. Thus, he escaped the divine genocide.

Fast forward to redacted event, Malgartesh escapes and he is hellbent on getting revenge on the gods. His plan is to kill every single god and rule all the planes with a few trusted allies. These allies definitely think turning the material plane (and all planes) into hellscapes sounds like a fantastic idea. Naturally, all of the gods dying would gravely upset the entire world. The gods actually control their domains so if a god is not there to maintain it, that domain will nearly cease to exist. Not completely, because life could still exist, but most good things would crumble and Malgartesh would see to that. He wants to destroy everything the gods made so they would know what it feels like.

Obviously it is up to our daring adventurers to save the lives of the gods and prevent the multiverse crumbling around them. Now hopefully you have the question 'if the gods are so powerful why can't they just band together and murder this jerk like they did his friends'. Great question. Because Malgartesh did in fact learn the method by which he can kill the gods and all those years trapped within the Book of Vile Darkness allowed him to learn all the tricks needed to remove the power of the gods on sight and thus kill them. He absolutely manages to succeed in this a few times as soon as he is let out.

The gods are absolute weenies when they realize there is an actual threat to them and most of them refuse to try to meet him head on because of the greater-than-zero chance they could die. Mortal adventurers, however, can sure try their best while the gods watch from afar and hope for the best.

I hope this gives you a little peak into the future apocalyptic scenario!

Another huge thing that happens, I won't go into too much detail though, is Stawold is besieged by an army of goblinoids. Normally you might think oh a few bands of orcs, what could they do to a town with a wall. Yeah no, some horrid orog (basically bigger badder orc) named Ulaug managed to get all of the goblinoids in the Wilderlands to work together. This doesn't usually happen. Orc tribes will just as readily fight with each other as anyone else, hence why they aren't usually a huge threat. But now this entire army of orcs, goblins, bugbears, worgs, and even some other creatures become a huge threat to Stawold. It is a very very intense chapter so there will be a lot of gore warnings as I try to get across just how damaging this is for Sadie to see all of this done to her home. Hopefully I can do it some sort of justice!

[thestalkerbunny]

Patron of Time in all it's forms, Paradoxes, and Races, Veridandi

Veridandi goes by 3 names as she assumes 3 different forms. One is that of a child that is referred to as Urdur, The other is of an elder that is called Skuld. Veridandi is all 3 of these people at once and is frequently in a state of being all of them consistently. Veridandi is a Patron who is always moving, much like a shark. She does not sleep, she does not eat, she does not take pause for anything because simply something always needs to be done. The heels of her boots are said to make a steady beating noise that all clocks follow in beat.  Veridandi is noted by her Warlocks to be a very chatty Patron and most meetings with her end up them jogging after her while talking.

Veridandi is the one half of the first two deities to come into existence-Time, her domain and her counter part's, Space run by Ivo. Ivo created all the stars, planets and space garbage from the primordial ooze they had to work with. While Ivo simply made clumps and balls of heat and dirt, Veridandi twisted and spun it into carefully constructed lines that mortal kind would soon be able to walk upon. Ivo eventually simply dissipated their physical form in favor of becoming all of space's constantly expanding void so that the planets and stars would stop falling into nothingness.

Albiet, Ivo's action to become the constant expanding of space and the universe that we exist  in was often spoken of as the most noble of sacrifices-Veridandi regards it as a selfish action, as Ivo did not want to help her in mantaining Time and Space and without his assistance, many holes appear in space itself in which things fall out of time. Veridandi's job is to maintain the timelines and make sure that they maintain and reach successful ends.

Veridandi is also credited for creating the first mortal, Merripin. However because she never gave him mortality, he never died. Sad to see her creation suffer as all his skin and flesh fell off and became the first true undead, she gave all of mortal kind randomly assigned time limits at which they must expire and renounce their mortal form and Merripin became the Patron of Death, taking care to document all expiration that will and must happen and ensure they are sorted into their proper rewards (or punishments). She is not popular as she's viewed as the Deity who 'brought DEATH into the world'

Veridandi has two kinds of helpers in her domain; one is Warforged duplicates of herself built by both the God of Progress and the Patron of Science in a rare collaboration. These clones of herself can be briefly taken over by her when she is invoked in another time line.

The other kind of Helper is an extinct species known as Frog Nymphs. Veridandi has made the Frog Nymphs her special agents charged with making sure the things that slip thru the holes of Time and Space do not fall into the wrong hands. The Agents that reside on the mortal plane are indefinitely immortal and can return to life if killed by 'respawning' back at a specific location. The rest of the Frog Nymphs reside in Veridandi's domain trying to stitch the holes back together and help maintain the time lines. They are noted for speaking a very fast language unidentifiable to language comprehension spells  and specific to only them. It is actually very simple to break down if people took the time to study them, comprised of various slang spoken at a fast pace with their unique accents, however since they're supposed to be EXTINCT, not many people actually see them or understand what they are supposed to be. They're much like cryptids/men in black. Some people talk about these strange green amphibian people running around, doing THINGS and end up blaming them for weird conspiracies, assassinations and unsolved crimes.

Veridandi's warlocks are often people seeking to turn back the clock or in need of more time. She often sends them to work among her Frog Nymph agents reclaiming objects and in turn, pays them in minutes and hours of time warping powers to use at their own personal leisure. There hasn't been a record of successful Time Warlocks-but then again, it is possible they simply erased documentation of their own existence to ensure that Veridandi's agents are protected and their work kept secret.

[siriuschaostribe]

Ficcino Maranki Diyetine Markiz Tesbihatı

It is precisely this subjective element which distinguishes the Renaissance magus from the medieval theorist; for static hierarchical schemes and correspondences between planets and music are transformed into dynamic energies at work throughout creation, energies which can be harnessed and transfused for the harmonising of individual souls. Following Plotinus, Ficino emphasises the necessity of focussing the emotion in an act which depends on both intuition and expertise in order to expand consciousness: 'Whoever prays to a star in an opportune and skilled way projects his spirit into the manifest and occult rays of the star, everywhere diffused and life-giving; from these he may claim for himself vital stellar gifts.' In the Platonic/Pythagorean tradition, music and the stars are inextricably linked as audible and visible images of an invisible dimension of existence, whose intellectual perception is made possible through the senses of hearing and sight. The foundations of the musical cosmos are established by Plato in the creation myth of his Timaeus, which maintains a vital connection to Egyptian, Chaldaean and other ancient traditions. In this dialogue, Plato sets up a model for a three-fold musical cosmos where the movements of the spheres, the passions of the human soul and the audible sounds of music are all expressions of a divine intelligence manifesting through the various dimensions of creation. Such a tripartite division was to be differentiated by the fifth century A.D. theorist Boethius as musica mundana, musica humana and musica instrumentalis, and it was commonplace for music theorists to work out elaborate systems of corrrespondences between astronomical distances and musical intervals, between the nature of musical patterns and emotional states, between planetary characteristics and audible sound. The key, in this tradition, to the ordering of the cosmos, whether astronomically or musically, is of course number - a discovery which was transmitted to Western thinkers by Pythagoras. Indeed for the Platonists number determines all things in nature and their concrete manifestation, together with all rhythms and cycles of life. Number revealed by the heavenly bodies unfolds as Time, and as the human soul was seen to be mirrored in the order of the heavens, divination, or aligning oneself to the gods, required the appropriate ritual at a precise time. Iamblichus tells us that the numbers gov erning nature are the outflowing energies of the gods, and if we wish to assimilate ourselves to them, we must use their language - that is, align ourselv es with the harmonies underlying the cosmos. Merely humanly contrived numerical systems, discursive conceptions of number, numerological theories, cannot reproduce an experience of unity which will give rise to true knowledge of first principles. In the Timaeus, we learn that the Demiurge created a substance called the world-soul and inserted it into the centre of the world-body. He then divided up this soul-stuff according to the ratios of the three consonant musical intervals, that is the octave which resonates in the proportion of 2:1, the perfect fifth, 3:2 and the perfect fourth, 4:3, continuing, by further division, to create the intervallic steps of the Pythagorean scale. The soul was cut into two parts which were bent around each other, forming the circles of the Same and the Different: the Same containing the unmoving sphere of the fixed stars, the Different containing the moving instruments of Time, or the planets. The Different was then divided into narrower strips which were arranged according to the geometrical progressions of 2 and 3; 1 2 4 Page 38 and 1 3 9 27. Permeating the whole cosmos, the soul connected the physical world with the eternal, being 'interfused everywhere from the centre to the circumference of heaven' and partaking of 'reason and harmony'.  The human soul, also partaking directly of the anima mundi, must therefore be regulated according to the same proportions. But due to the passions of the body, the soul on entering it became distorted and stirred up - only the correct kind of education could restore harmonious equilibrium. This education would induce a recognition of the soul's congruence with the cosmos through the audible harmonic framework of the musical scale, for as we have seen, the proportions in the world-soul could be reproduced in musical sound. The numbers one to four, or the tetraktys, thus not only form the framework for all musical scales, but also embody this dynamic process of embodiment in the fourfold m o v e ment of geometry from point to line to plane to solid; from the unity comes the duality of opposition, the triad of perfect equilibrium and the quaternity of material existence. Each stage both limits and contains the one following, and the initiate is warned in the Chaldaean oracles 'do not deepen the plane' - that is, extend towards the material world from a the perfect condition of the triad, but do not lose your limiting power by letting go of it and becoming lost in the quaternity, or chaos of matter. This can be understood musically as the imperative of maintaining the perfect intervals as defining structures. In listening to geometry in sound, the perfect intervals set a framework or limit on unlimited sound, and since the specific arrangement of sizes of tones and semitones within this framework mirror the exact astronomical relationships of the planets, the very fabric of creation is brought to the ear and, in Platonic terms, evokes a memory of the harmonies once heard with the ears of the mind. F r o m  this essential premise, the schemes attributing planets to actual pitches and astronomical distances to musical intervals abounded. In the Myth of Er at the end of his Republic, Plato suggests that sirens positioned on the rims of the planetary orbits each sound a pitch, making up a musical scale, much like a Greek lyre projected into the heavens. In another interpretation, found in Cicero's Dream of Scipio, the planets produce different tones according to their various speeds of revolution. We are told that 'the high and low tones blended together produce different harmonies' and that 'gifted men, imitating this harmony on stringed instruments and in singing, have gained for themselves a return to this region, as have those of exceptional abilities who have studied divine matters even in earthly life'.  Exactly how to imitate the music of the spheres thus became the question raised by music theorists, and the science of harmonics, or the study of mathematical properties of musical ratios, was considered to be the first step. It is very difficult to know how much this highly speculative procedure - considered by Plato to be the highest form of knowledge - influenced the practical music-making of classical times. We are certainly better informed about the connection between musica humana and musica instrumentalis, for central to ancient Greek musical writings is the concept of ethos, or subtle ethical effects produced in the human psyche by the use of different modes or 'set' combinations of tone-patterns. For example, the Phrygian mode moved men to anger, the Lydian soothed them, the Dorian induced gravity and temperance - each quality being reflected in the character of particular regions. By medieval times the ancient Greek modes had been replaced by the eight Church modes, but this did not interrupt the association of subtle ethical effects by theorists. One twelfth century writer notes that 'the modes have individual qualities of sound, differing from each other, so that they prompt spontaneous recognition by an attentive musician or even by a practised singer'. It is to our loss that the music we hear today is limited to only two types of mode - the major and minor.  But what of the connection between ethics and cosmology? Ethical powers were attributed to syst e m s of pitch, while planets were generally associated with single pitches - so in the writings of most classical theorists, it is difficult to see how an effective form of musica instrumentalis could influence the human soul through direct imitation of cosmic harmony - despite the model transmitted by Plato. Generally speaking, celestial phenomena were made to fit a preconceived notion of musical order, rather than the phenomena themselves being asked to reveal their order as principles of intelligence. Although the Middle Ages produced some great original thinkers in this field, such as John Scotus Eriugena in the ninth century, and indeed the influential Islamic school of musical and astrological therapy, it was only in the fifteenth century that the West began to explore the practical means by which the harmonic relationships in the cosmos could be expressed through music, not by literally reproducing astronomical measurement in sound, but by symbolically evoking a unifying principle at work in the manifest and unmanifest worlds. With the music theorists Georgio Anselmi and Bartolom¾ Ramos de Pareja, we see the seeds being sown for a revisioning of cosmic music. (PDF) The Music of the Spheres: Marsilio Ficino and Renaissance harmonia. Available from: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/290164617_The_Music_of_the_Spheres_Marsilio_Ficino_and_Renaissance_harmonia [accessed Apr 23 2021].

[teensith]

big brain kagrenac theory

I’ve always been dissatisfied by the generally accepted story that the dwemer just “poofed” because Kagrenac did something with the tools and messed up, and that’s that, and Yagrum Bagarn is the only one left. There are a lot of in-game/in-lore inconsistencies about it, and I can see why it’s easier to think they all just blinked out of existence, but I don’t think it quite adds up.

The gist of it: Kagrenac was leading a cult, and led a mass suicide in the name of “transcending” the mortal coil, and the dwemer who didn’t poof went into hiding, interbred with other elves, and/or some other possibilities besides Yagrum “was in Oblivion at the time, then got corprus” Bagarn.

First, I want to define what a cult is.

These definitions as follows are taken from Wikipedia, and most of my direct quotes/sourcing will be from Wikipedia or UESP unless otherwise stated.

In modern English, a cult is a social group that is defined by its unusual religious, spiritual, or philosophical beliefs, or by its common interest in a particular personality, object or goal.

And further, I’d argue this is a destructive, possibly doomsday cult:

"Destructive cult" generally refers to groups whose members have, through deliberate action, physically injured or killed other members of their own group or other people. The Ontario Consultants on Religious Tolerance specifically limits the use of the term to religious groups that "have caused or are liable to cause loss of life among their membership or the general public".

"Doomsday cult" is an expression which is used to describe groups that believe in Apocalypticism and Millenarianism, and it can also be used to refer both to groups that predict disaster, and groups that attempt to bring it about.

So let’s get started.

To contextualize Kagrenac into wider Dwemer culture, and our understanding of the lore, let’s look at his position in Dwemer hierarchy (at least in Morrowind). He’s referred to as Magecrafter, the High Engineer, High Craftlord (which might be his actual title), and, oddly, High Priest. The Dwemer are not considered to be a religious or spiritually inclined culture, with UESP even describing them as “agnostic” and idolizing science after a fashion. This is really important for the next few parts of this, so bear with me.

Kagrenac is our primary source in TES for a lot of points we take as a given, such as the Heart of Lorkhan:

"Beneath Red Mountain, Dwemer miners discovered a great magical stone. By diverse methods, Lord Kagrenac, High Priest and Magecrafter of the ancient Dwemer, determined that this magical stone was the heart of the god Lorkhan

This is from an in-game book called Kagrenac’s Tools written by Gilvas Barelo, who authored some other writings that were compiled later by the dissident priests - in brief, heretical members of the church of the Tribunal who believed the Nerevarine prophecy was worth study.

I’m not saying it’s not the god Lorkhan’s actual heart right now, but we really only have Kagrenac’s word to go on. At worst, it’s an immensely powerful magical object with enough energy stored up that it can give people godlike abilities and a degree of immortality.

At the very least, it appears that Kagrenac genuinely believed this to be Lorkhan’s heart, and set about creating a plan to place it into the heart of a new god, the Numidium, “for the exclusive benefit of the Dwemer.” More on the “is it the real deal” will come at a later point in my post. And a little more on the Numidium as well.

One thing the book “Kagrenac’s Tools” notes is that being in proximity to the Heart causes some sort of Madness, allegedly, and that’s because siphoning power off a god is bad. Thus the tools are “cursed.”

Another account of the discovery, from The Plan To Defeat Dagoth Ur by Vivec:

The Dwemer discovered the heart while building underground colonies. High Craftlord Kagrenac created enchanted tools intended to tap the power of the heart. The War of the First Council was fought to prevent this sacrilege. Kagrenac's use of these tools and the disappearance of the Dwemer race marked the end of the war.

And last, I think the Heart is mentioned here, in “Nerevar at Red Mountain”

Resdayn, present day Morrowind, was contested ground between two very different types of mer: the Chimer, who worshipped Daedra, and the Dwemer, who worshipped a profane and secret power.

So it’s considered profane or “cursed” by those outside the Dwemer and then later the members of the Tribunal.

It appears that Kagrenac wanted to reconquer Resdayn and make the Dwemer immortal, per Yagrum Bagarn’s in-game dialogue, using this Heart to power Numidium. Yagrum Bagarn was not in agreement with Kagrenac’s ideals and considered his theories “dangerous”, which explains why he was on another plane when The Poof happened.

So now that we’ve established some backstory, let’s move on to why I think Kagrenac specifically had some sort of cult going, based on what little information we have.

He informed me, however, that in Kherakah the precepts of Kagrenac were taught.

This is from the book “Nchunak’s Fire and Faith.” It’s a firsthand account of Nchunak’s journey and his attempt to understand Kagrenac’s teachings.

Kherakah appears to be some sort of special compound built by Kagrenac and his followers. Kagrenac has a very high status in Dwemer society and culture, at least where the Dwemer in Resdayn are concerned. It’s unclear how many people are under Kagrenac’s thrall by the time of the Big Poof. This is what they do in Kherakah, per the same book.

the Dwemer of Kherakah, the most learned people in the world, [study] Kagrenac's words and [give] consideration to their place in the life to come

“The life to come” appears to be a reference to what happens after Numidium is activated - the retaking of Resdayn from the Chimer, perhaps. The book makes no mention of conquering, however.

neither planar division nor the numeration of amnesia nor any other thing of utility was more valued than the understanding of the self and its relationship to the Heart..

So what radicalized Kagrenac to the point of developing his own religious framework around the Heart? Was it only discovering the Heart? This so-called “madness” that being in the Heart’s presence is alleged to produce? Was his goal to reconquer Resdayn for the dwemer with the Numidium, per Yagrum Bagarn, or was it to use the tools on the Heart to bring on some sort of “life to come?”

I think it’s a combination of several factors.

Kagrenac’s true aim I believe is using the Heart’s power to “transcend mortality” for the dwemer race. The first reason I think he’s uninterested in actually reconquering Resdayn is that Dumac had no idea that he was planning something with the Heart. From “Nerevar at Red Mountain:”

Kagrenac and the high priests of the Dwemer had kept their New God secret from their King[...]Dumac said the Dwemer were innocent of any wrongdoing

Dumac also does not seem to be interested in conquering Resdayn, given his shock at being accused of lying about the Heart. So I think Azura wants the Dwemer gone from Morrowind, for whatever reason.

Remember when I mentioned earlier that I’m not entirely sure we’re dealing with the real heart of Lorkhan? Here’s why:

Azura, who confirmed that [...] the New God of the Dwemer should be destroyed for the safety of not only Resdayn, but for the whole world

If it was truly a piece of Lorkhan, and not some sort of idol...I think Azura would say so, as much as she’s petty and spiteful. It also wouldn’t be referred to as “New God” or “a profane power.” There is also this - Lorkhan’s heart is essential to holding Nirn together on some level, and this is a common thread across all creation of nirn myths. Why would she want to destroy the world and, if nothing else, destroy all her followers? I guess there could be something really convoluted in there about Lorkhan and being tricked, but it doesn’t scan for me.

Also, here’s a line from the Monomyth that suggests it can’t be destroyed

But when Trinimac and Auriel tried to destroy the Heart of Lorkhan it laughed at them. It said, "This Heart is the heart of the world, for one was made to satisfy the other."

There is, again, this idea that being around the Heart causes some sort of Madness, back to Nerevar at red Mountain.

So, looking at images of the Heart as depicted in Morrowind, it seems to have been affixed with Dwemer technology. Perhaps to prepare it for insertion into Numidium? It’s unclear if Kagrenac actually planned to follow through with building the Numidium, or if it was a ruse, given that firsthand accounts don’t mention it at all. Or perhaps Kagrenac’s plans changed and didn’t give a memo? Who knows.

Dagoth Ur was actually against using the tools and advocated destroying them and the Heart, at first. Taken from his entry on UESP.

At first, Dagoth himself urged for their immediate destruction, either of the Tools or the Heart itself, which led Nerevar to believe he could be trusted to guard them while Nerevar consulted his councilors

This is in line with what Azura said. Why would he suddenly change his mind?

Dagoth refused to give them up, maintaining that he had been entrusted with guarding them. Unbeknownst to them at the time, Dagoth had experimented with the Tools on the Heart during Nerevar's absence and somehow managed to steal some of its divine essence and power.

Proximity to the Heart, is why. I don’t think the dissidents in the Tribunal church were entirely incorrect in their assessment regarding the madness, just that the madness stems from the stone itself and not the tools Kagrenac fashioned.

Also of note:

Dagoth Ur, who used a ritual of his own devising to bind himself to the Heart of Lorkhan, had apparently adopted the views and motivations of Kagrenac.

Recap:

I’m inclined to believe that this isn’t Lorkhan’s actual heart. It’s definitely an object of great power that has some sort of aura of influence, and everybody outside of Kagrenac’s followers and the Tribunal consider it an evil object. But the indestructible heart of a dead god that’s holding the fabric of the world together, probably not.

I’m also inclined to believe that Kagrenac’s real plans for the heart were not to be the core of Numidium so Resdayn could be conquered again for the Dwemer, but to use his tools on them such to “transcend mortality.” Or something.

So, the cult-y part.

I mentioned in my general exposition earlier that Kagrenac had constructed a compound for himself and his followers, where he is a High Priest, and where the most important thing was reflecting on “the self and its relationship to the Heart,” followed by meditating on one’s place in “the next world.” He also appears to be envisioning himself as the harbinger of this next world, leading people to a “salvation,” while also outwardly promising to give the Dwemer Resdayn on a silver platter vis-a-vis Numidium. Potent rhetoric for a people frustrated with having to cooperate with the enemy.

As mentioned in my definition of doomsday cults, they tend to center around the “end of the world” in some form, either in the predicting or the bringing of. There is also a tendency for believers to see it as a period of transition into a new world or state of being, where only the “wicked” would suffer. Sounds not unlike Kagrenac’s designs.

So he wants to “transcend” the Dwemer using his tools on the Heart to do so. It seems that part of this transcendance requires one to leave mortality behind - maybe the physical body, as real-world religions tend to claim? It’s unclear what portion of the Dwemer populus follows him, but Yagrum Bagarn is a huge detractor of Kagrenac and his beliefs, so it follows there are other detractors and plenty of groups that don’t follow Kagrenac, confirmed by in-game dialogue with both Yagrum Bagarn and Baladas Demnevanni. Demnevanni also is of the opinion that the Dwemer were using magic and practicing tonal architecture in ways that go against the laws of nature, so of course they would eventually Poof, but that’s a tangent I don’t care to go into for this post.

Accounts vary on how the Poof happened, but the two major thoughts are Kagrenac performed some sort of “calling” that maybe brought a mass together, or that he struck the heart with his tools and everyone disappeared simultaneously at the climax of the battle at Red Mountain. A third idea is that the Tribunal dusted Kagrenac and the Dwemer.

This idea of a “calling” is much more interesting and honestly sounds a lot more like it could have actually happened, in my opinion. From Chimarvidium’s publisher’s note:

[...]the mention of "the Calling." In this legend and in others, there is a suggestion that the Dwemer race as a whole had some sort of silent and magickal communication.

So let’s work off this basic assumption: Kagrenac used the calling (some sort of silent communication power, perhaps racial) to gather his followers together in one place - perhaps the site of the Heart? After everyone had gathered, he told them they were going on a “sublime journey,” and then something related to the Heart and the tools happened, and then Poof.

With this, I’d also like to propose that this is a sort of “destructive” cult, after a fashion. Maybe Kagrenac genuinely believed he was saving people, maybe not. I’ve also seen mention on some other posts on TESlore that he bound the souls of the Dwemer to the Heart with his tools, though I don’t think I found an in-lore source for that. But in practice, it’s effectively a mass suicide brought on by some sort of fanatical belief in the power of this Heart. And if my theory that the Heart is an eldritch object is true, the Heart led Kagrenac (and later Dagoth) down a path of complete devotion to it, eventually leading to Kagrenac and the Dwemer’s demise.

After the Poof, I could see where if a sizable enough group of Dwemer vanished before the Tribunal’s eyes (maybe, this is a reach, but someone witnessed it), it would be assumed that ALL Dwemer vanished in the same fashion. But we don’t know that. After all, Yagrum Bagarn (though he was off exploring other planes at the time) is still around, even if he believes that he’s the last of his kind. And we have ghosts in the ruins of Morrowind.

Dwemer appear to be a bit greenish/grayish but don’t look so alien that they wouldn’t be able to shave their beards and hide among the High Elves. Plus, if this disappearance really did happen around the climax of the Battle, Nerevar’s death, and Azura’s curse, maybe they blended in relatively well with the newly minted Dunmer. And since the Dwemer are viciously hated by the Chimer/Dunmer, it makes sense that they would try to blend in or go into hiding, and eventually interbreed with other mer. Kind of reminds me of Roanoke colony “disappearing” and then reported sightings of “Indians with blue eyes.”

My last thought is kind of a Big Reach but what if some of the remaining Dwemer formed the Psijic order, or joined it early? This is based partly off the publisher’s note in Chimarvidium, but it does mention there’s no known spell for this “calling” or “silent communication.” And the Psijics are known to have time and space-warping magic, and talk up a lot about maintaining the balance of the world...or something.

Anyway, let me know what you think! I wrote this all in one sitting so it might not be my best essay.

[mazurah]

do you have any headcanons about alteration magic? i feel like due to game balancing limitations, it wasn't as powerful as it actually could have been in-universe. thoughts?

I’ve been sitting on this ask for more than a week trying to figure out how to answer. Yes I have Alteration magic headcanons, but a lot of them aren’t technically mine. 

First off, you’re absolutely right. Alteration is much more powerful in the lore than it is ingame. The Ayleids, who invented Alteration magic, could shapeshift.

There does, however, appear to be evidence that, just as the Psijics on the Isle of Artaeum developed Mysticism long before there was a name for it, the even more obscure Ayleids of southern Cyrodiil had developed what was to be known as the school of Alteration. It is not, after all, much of a stretch when one considers that other Ayleids at the time of Bravil’s conquering and even later were shapeshifters. The community of pre-Bravil could not turn into beasts and monsters, but they could alter their bodies to hide themselves away. 

⁠— Daughter of the Niben

The closest things we’ve ever seen to that kind of magic (not counting things which aren’t actually school-of-magic spells, such as the Wild Hunt, vampire transformations, and werewolves) are spells like oakflesh, which isn’t exactly what I would call shapeshifting. Shapeshifting implies that you’re actually changing your shape, not just changing the consistency of your skin, so I think it’s more likely that the Ayleids did things like make their limbs look like branches to blend in with forests. 

And then there’s that one NPC in Skyrim, the Face Sculptor, that will straight up let you open the character creation menu and change anything about your appearance except your race or sex. (What, no sex change option? Transphobic!) You can’t tell me there’s not Alteration magic involved in that somehow (although I would certainly listen to a case for Restoration.)

There’s also a spell (actually a greater power) that got cut from Skyrim called Polymorph Skeever which lets you turn yourself into a skeever. It was never implemented in the game, but it exists in the code, so I think it’s safe to say that it’s a valid piece of lore. Polymorph spells do exist! There’s even more of them in ESO.

So do I believe that a master Alterationist could potentially turn somebody into a chicken? It’s quite possible. Are we ever gonna be able to turn NPCs into chickens? Not without the Wabbajack. They gotta balance the game somehow.

To be honest, this is a limitation to magic in general, not just Alteration. If I was really a master healer, what’s to prevent me from healing somebody’s mouth closed? Or casting a spell that causes my enemy to have a heart attack? There’s all kinds of things I would love to be able to do with magic that I can’t because of game limitations, like casting a spell to send me to Oblivion so I can go exploring, or conjuring a Dremora or Winged Twilight to ask them about themselves (both of which exist in the lore.) Or using levitation in Skyrim. *sigh*

Back to Alteration though. If you want to know about Alteration in general, the lore book you should be reading is Reality and Other Falsehoods:

It is easy to confuse Illusion and Alteration. Both schools of magic attempt to create what is not there. The difference is in the rules of nature. Illusion is not bound by them, while Alteration is. This may seem to indicate that Alteration is the weaker of the two, but this is not true. Alteration creates a reality that is recognized by everyone. Illusion’s reality is only in the mind of the caster and the target.

To master Alteration, first accept that reality is a falsehood. There is no such thing. Our reality is a perception of greater forces impressed upon us for their amusement. Some say that these forces are the gods, other that they are something beyond the gods. For the wizard, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is the appeal couched in a manner that cannot be denied. It must be insistent without being insulting.

To cast Alteration spells is to convince a greater power that it will be easier to change reality as requested than to leave it alone. Do not assume that these forces are sentient. Our best guess is that they are like wind and water. Persistent but not thoughtful. Just like directing the wind or water, diversions are easier than outright resistance. Express the spell as a subtle change and it is more likely to be successful.

⁠— Reality and Other Falsehoods

This is a great start, but it doesn’t help us understand what it would be like to use Alteration on a daily basis, and that’s where headcanon comes in. I headcanon that people have different ways of conceptualizing spells, and this can result in different teaching styles. Sometimes the differences are cultural. But ultimately, it comes down to how good you are at envisioning the changes you want, how much you believe the changes can/should/will happen, and how good you are at willing those changes into existence. How to Disappear Completely by @chameleonspell contains an excellent illustration of what it’s like to try to learn Alteration and navigate the cultural differences between teaching styles as a novice: 

Iriel had studied Alteration. Had, at one point, thought he might specialise in it. It had sounded so impressive, when he first attended lectures at the Crystal Tower: change the world! Bend the physical realm to your will - sorry - your Will! Then he had attended classes, and spent months learning about counter-aetheric force (the academic term for what ordinary people, who didn’t understand these things, called gravity) and formulas to calculate water pressure and wind resistance. Altmeri magical tradition demanded that students first master the theory. You had to learn the rules before you could break them. He might be allowed to actually alter things in a few years, if he studied hard and passed the exams.

Things were different when he transferred to Cyrodiil. There, the Professor of Alteration was a steely-eyed Imperial known to students as The Cliff, due to her threats to throw students off one, if their problems with levitation persisted. Necessity focused the mind, she said. Alteration was all about willpower and belief. She didn’t hold with teaching the physics of it. You are a mage, she would roar. You make your own physics! Your mind will do battle with the Aurbis, and if you are worthy, the Aurbis will bow before you!

She was rumoured to be working on a transmutation spell that would change lesser substances into gold. They said she spent her nights concentrating on a rock on her desk, glaring the resistance out of it, molecule by molecule. When she looked at him, Iriel could believe it. But, struggling to levitate a feather on his own desk, he hadn’t felt that engaging the universe in mental combat was ever going to be his forte. It was so much bigger, and more experienced than he was, so much more self-assured. There were thousands of years of inertia behind its processes, grinding like endless Dwemer machinery. His will, even capitalised, was too weak a spanner to jam into those works. A minor blip in the rhythm, at most, and it’d be crushed as the gears churned on.

He’d found himself returning to the equations he’d been forced to memorise at the Tower. He’d discovered, to his chagrin, that the Sapiarchs had been on to something, at least to his Altmeri-educated mind. If you wanted to change something, it helped to understand the thing you were trying to change. Staring at the feather, he had realised he didn’t need to do battle with the entire Aurbis, he only needed to fight the air immediately around the object he wanted to move, convince it that local relative masses were very slightly different. The Cliff had been right about one thing: it was about belief. And Iriel found it considerably easier to believe things if he could construct a veneer of logical process, however flimsy.

He’d balanced the feather on his finger. It barely weighed anything. Using the standard formula, it couldn’t be constrained by more than a quell of counter-aetheric force. He had repeated the incantation, but instead of trying to command physics as a whole, he’d merely suggested a minor adjustment to the relative densities of feathers and air, just within these few square inches.

The feather had shot upwards and lodged an inch into the plaster of the ceiling. He’d blinked, brushed the dust from his hair, and began recalculating the ratio. An hour later, he’d floated up to retrieve it himself.

⁠— How to Disappear Completely, Chapter 93: force by @chameleonspell ​

(That entire work is amazing and contains so many headcanons and extrapolations of lore I couldn’t possibly begin to summarize them if I tried. You should read it.)

The thing about Alteration, and to a lesser extent, all magic in general, is that to perform it, you must wrestle with the very nature of the universe. Alteration, at its essence, contains what could potentially be understood as the fundamental principle of magic: to perform it, you must impose your Will on the world around you. When you perform it, you change the world. 

This is not without consequences. I headcanon that the greater skill a mage has with Alteration, the more trouble they have with distinguishing what is real and what is not, and with maintaining control over the reality of their personal environment. This is a headcanon I garnered from reading the works of @troloputo2012, and to some extent, @chameleonspell.

The advanced alterationist starts with sensory issues, since they start being able to listen and see the mechanisms of this world (also the plane where spirits and magic roam, that occupies the same place as this Mundus, and being this over saturated with information can be overwhelming), and slowly, they start having trouble attaching to reality and they can’t go back to their normal life as before; many have grounding sensory “mechanisms” to wake up, but many don’t because sometimes nothing works … .

Many experts get tired of constantly wrestling with existing or fail because their will is not strong enough, just give up and vanish, or they get consumed into their own reality and are unable to follow the currents of the world and time … .

To be able to live correctly and master alteration, one must have considerable willpower, or it’ll consume you. You learned to use alteration to weaken reality for you, now you must use it to also reinforce reality (for you start to unconsciously exist in weakened reality you created for yourself) to live.

— Alteration is not as harmless as it seems. by @troloputo2012

So a master of Alteration who fails to have enough Willpower to maintain their own existence might even disappear completely (a concept very similar to the tenuously canonical concept of Zero Sum, wherein a person truly perceives the nature of the universe, sees that they are a figment of the Divine Dream, confronts the concept head on, and fails to assert that they still exist, thus ceasing to exist.) Sure, a master of Alteration can change reality to an amazing degree, but there is a danger; there is a price.

Finally, I have a headcanon (which I’m pretty sure isn’t actually my idea, but I’m not sure where I picked it up) that schools of magic are more like philosophical models for creating spells rather than rigid expressions of natural law. Ultimately, almost any spell could potentially be created using almost any school of magic, but depending on what the spell does, it may not be a very good spell. It might use too much magicka, or it might be insanely hard to cast, or it might take a really long time to conceptualize the spell in that school of magic so nobody bothered trying to make the spell in the first place.

This is an easier idea to apply to Alteration than it is to some other schools like Conjuration (like, what am I gonna do, conjure healthy body parts for a dying person?) but it can go a long way to explaining why some spells change schools between games. For example, there are a few Alteration spells (mostly resistance spells) that get moved to the Restoration school of magic between Morrowind and Oblivion. If you’re looking for an in-universe explanation for this, perhaps spell researchers developed more efficient spells using the philosophy of Restoration, and the magical community had come to accept them as the norm by the time Oblivion began.

So yeah, there’s a lot of overlap between schools. In fact, there are documented arguments between mages about the similarities and differences between schools:

The School of Alteration is a distinct and separate entity from the School of Destruction, and Bero’s argument that they should be merged into one is patently ludicrous. He insists — again, a man who knows nothing about the Schools of Alteration and Destruction, is the one insisting this — that “damage” is part of the changing of reality dealt with by the spells of Alteration. The implication is that Levitation, to list a spell of Alteration, is a close cousin of Shock Bolt, a spell of Destruction. It would make as much sense to say that the School of Alteration, being all about the actuality of change, should absorb the School of Illusion, being all about the appearance of change.

⁠— Response to Bero’s Speech

While I believe that Alteration is an insanely powerful school of magic in the right hands, it’s probably still easier to heal someone using the principles of Restoration than it is to do it using the principles of Alteration.

Feel free to add your own headcanons, I love having discussions like this!

[chrisdannspain]

My journey from Christianity to Atheism

The story of a non believer.

Chris Dann  B Ed (Hons)

My personal journey to the wonderful realization that there is no God or afterlife began at the age of eleven and took nearly twenty years. From five years old to eleven years old I was a pupil at Christ Church School Hastings, Sussex, England UK.  My school was a ‘church school’ and we were taught the scriptures every day. I was an alter boy, I sung in the choir, I assisted at communion, I attended Bible class, I read the Bible every day, I prayed every day, I went to confession once a week but, most importantly, I firmly believed that there was a God. I believed and I had faith that God was good and loving and that he took care of me.  I had complete faith. My faith could never be challenged. My faith led me on a pathway to believe that there was a heaven and that, when I died, I would magically arrive in heaven and meet God for the first time.  All my family and friends would be there.  

 Years later I realized that faith is not a pathway to truth.

Think about that for a moment.

Stop reading and think.

Now read the following and think about it;

“Just because we believe that something is true does not mean that it is actually true”. 

While I was at Christ Church I spent many happy times in the church. I was friends with all the priests and around the age of ten I began to seriously consider becoming a priest in later life. I would spread the word of God. Work for him and try and repay some of the love that he had shown me.

On my eleventh birthday I started Bible class.  I studied the Bible. I read the Bible from cover to cover. Every single word. I’m guessing that there are not that many believers who have done the same. In later life I once jokingly said to someone that if they were ever thinking of destroying their faith and becoming an Atheist, then just read the Bible.  All of it.  Every page. Every word. I maintain, even today, that this method will destroy any believer’s faith.

It was Bible class that began the gradual process of destroying my faith and leading me to the wonderful freedom that Atheism brings. The one thing that should have cemented the foundations of my faith actually had the opposite effect.

I can remember so clearly, as if it were ten minutes ago, the first Bible class meeting when I raised my hand for the first time. I remember explaining to the class that a miracle is an unexplained event. It is, and always will be, an unexplained event.  Unexplained. Moreover, it does not mean that it actually happened. Just because we rush off to the ‘label making machine’ and print the word ‘miracle’ and then assign that word to an unexplained event does not mean it happened.

My innocent explanation was not greeted very kindly by the priest in charge of Bible class and I was angrily asked to sit back down so that we could move on to discuss another ‘miracle’   Now, I should explain that my intention was not to disrupt the class. It was to add to it.  My natural ability to think about things in a critical way was already beginning to come to the fore.  I was simply raising a point for discussion.  

                       The point was; did it actually happen ?

Of course, a believer will have faith that it did actually happen. My question was,and still is, what evidence do we have to demonstrate that it  happened. It’s no good using the Bible for evidence. We don’t even know who wrote the Bible. We weren’t there while it was being written so we cannot possibly know. Our best guess is that the New Testament was written sometime towards the end of the first century. Let’s say around the year seventy to seventy five. Two thousand years ago the average life expectancy is estimated to have been around thirty five. That means that whoever wrote the Bible would have been relying on second hand testament or word of mouth stories.

Straight away we can see that this book cannot be used as evidence. In a modern court of law it would be thrown out if it were presented as evidence. For example, if a person was accused of a crime and the only evidence  was something written in an old book then that person would be found not guilty and they would walk free.  That does not mean that they were innocent.  It simply means that there was not enough evidence to find them guilty.

The same applies to the Bible.  It is evidence of nothing. It proves nothing.

It was around this time that I began to realize that humans have a natural ability to invent a question and then create their own answer.

For example, if I tell a group of people that I was coming in to land at Heathrow airport last night and I looked out the window and saw a round light travelling at the same speed as the plane and then it suddenly shot off at an angle and disappeared they will automatically jump to UFO. Then they will jump to space craft. Then they will jump to aliens. Finally they will assume that because my story was not reported on TV then it must be a government conspiracy.

However, my story was about a round light in the sky.  A light. Nothing more nothing less. It was a light. I’ve already given them the question and the answer. 

“What was it?” 

 “It was a light”    

At no point did I mention spaceships or aliens.  I simply reported seeing a light.  That’s it.  The discussion should stop right there.  But humans don’t do that. We search for answers where no answer exists.  Consequently we ‘invent’ our own answers and then believe them.  Our invented answers become the truth.

It would be so easy just to say “I don’t know” but instead we come up with possible scenarios and then believe them. The invented scenario becomes the truth.

Except it’s not the truth. It’s still just an invented scenario.

Remember that just because we believe something is true does not mean it is actually true.

In order to believe that the light I saw was a spaceship we would actually have to see the spaceship. We would need to see it, touch it, examine it, take samples, take HD photos and videos of it and post them on Youtube for the world to see.  Then, and only then, do we have empirical evidence of the existence of a spaceship.  Until that point it is just a story of a light.  

                        That’s all.            A light in the sky.    

                              Guilty or not guilty

For a moment let’s return to the courtroom scenario.  When someone is on trial for a crime the evidence is presented to the jury.  The jury then discuss the evidence and they find the defendant guilty or not guilty.  

Remember,  not guilty does not mean innocent.  If the defendant was innocent they would not be in court in the first place.

If the jury is presented with insufficient evidence to find the defendant guilty then they only have one option and that is to find the defendant not guilty.

Imagine that the only evidence was a witness who said that they were absolutely convinced that the defendant was guilty.  Furthermore, the witness had complete faith that the witness was guilty. 

This ‘faith based evidence’ would, of course, be thrown out.   Consequently, the only possible verdict would be ‘not guilty’

Or, imagine that the only evidence was something written in an old book. Again, this would be thrown out and, once again, the only possible verdict has to be ‘not guilty.

Now imagine that God is in the dock.  The charge against him is that he exists.

If he is found guilty then he exists.

If he is found not guilty then that simply means that there was not enough evidence to find him guilty.  That does not mean that he does not exist i.e. innocent.  It means that there was not enough evidence to find him guilty.

The only evidence that could possibly be presented to the jury would be an old book, thoughts in witnesses heads and, of course, the inevitable “look at nature’ look at the trees,  there must be a God ! ”

None of this would be accepted as evidence and the prosecution would be laughed out of court. Literally.

Hence, the only possible verdict that the jury could arrive at would have to be ‘not guilty’ and that is exactly where I am as an Atheist.

My position is quite clear.   I doubt the existence of a God or an afterlife based on insufficient evidence.   i.e. ‘not guilty’ 

It’s actually the only position that any human being on this planet can take. However, an estimated 73% of the population choose to completely ignore the rules of logic and evidence and, instead, take the faith based route to believing in any one of over a thousand different Gods.

Why?

Why do so many humans convince themselves that something they can’t see or touch actually exists. 

I maintain that it is a fear of the unknown.  Humans are afraid of the unknown. We hear a noise in the dark and we immediately go into a state of alert. The same noise during the day and we dismiss it.

What happens when we die.  It is so difficult for humans to come to terms with the simple basic fact that nothing happens and we simply cease to exist that we invent an afterlife. Once we have the concept of an afterlife we are able to deal with our own mortality. 

                  An assertion requires evidence.  

                An extraordinary assertion requires extraordinary evidence.

                A lack of evidence automatically leads to ‘not guilty’  i.e. doubt.

 So if someone makes an extraordinary assertion that a miracle took place they would need to present extraordinary evidence before we could be expected to believe them or that this unexplained event actually happened. Failure to provide such evidence means that all we have is a story in an old book.

“Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence” was a phrase made popular by Carl Sagan

 However, humans have a propensity to make an answer fit simply because of a natural desire to believe in something.

If we imagine an irregular shaped pothole in the road and then it begins to rain and the pothole fills with water all we have is a pothole filled with water.  However, many people will stare at the water filled pothole and say “wow, look at that, the pothole is exactly the same shape as the water.” They will go on to assume that such an incredible event must have been designed by a higher power.

                                  This is more commonly known as ;

                      ‘the argument from personal incredulity.’

       At a very early age I slowly began to realise that humans had the capability to invent their own faith, and to believe that their own invented faith was actually true.

The more I thought about it the more I questioned everything about my life.

 Why was I here ?  

Was there a reason or was I just a simple product of evolution ?  i.e. natural selection.

 The more that I thought about my faith and my belief in God the more questions I had.  The massive problem I had was that no one was able to answer my questions.  

 So, I realised that I would have to find my own answers.    In order to find my own answers to my own questions I would need to leave religion behind.  There was, and still is, no place for membership of a group when you are trying to find the truth.

 By the statement  no place for membership of a group I mean that all the while we are members of a church or group of people who think the same as us we will never be able to seek the truth.  We will always be pulled back into the security of like minded people.

 Consequently, in order to search for the truth, the very first step is to detach ourselves from the security of any form of church or group of like minded  people and therein lies the massive, almost insurmountable, problem for most of us.

 Atheists are not part of a group.  We arrive at our world view on our own. We remain on our own. We are individuals who doubt the existence of a God.

 It takes a massive commitment to leave the security of a church.  Massive.   It means hurting family members. It means hurting members of our church or group or organisation.  However, it is the only way forward. The only way.

 Furthermore, it has to be undertaken at a solitary level. The journey to find the truth cannot be a journey which is undertaken with fellow travellers or like minded people.

 And so, around the age of fourteen I asked for a meeting with the priests in my church.  I explained that my life in the church was about to end and that I was about to undertake a personal journey of discovery and to try and find out if there actually was a God or an afterlife.  I told them that I doubted that there was a God and that in order to put my thoughts in order.  I needed space and distance from the church.

 I explained that my journey might possibly lead me right back to religion and a belief in a God.  I had no idea where I would end up but my aim was to seek out evidence of a God. I needed to believe in something that I knew was true rather than something that I just simply believed was true.

  The church elders wished me well and asked me to close the door on my way out.

    That was it. With the sound of a door closing, my journey had begun.  

                                                                       THE JOURNEY BEGINS

It was actually about 10 years later that I started my journey.  From the age of about fourteen to my mid twenties I spent my time consciously not thinking about religion. There were far more pressing matters to attend to.

i.e. marriage, education,  a career, paying the bills   etc etc.  

 Around the age of twenty five I began to put my thoughts in order and find some sort of organised direction in which to travel in my search for the truth.

 Looking back it is quite clear to me that my journey had three resting points. These points were where I paused and thought about what I had learnt up to that point.

 The first was age fourteen and I stayed there for about ten years.

 The second was about the age of thirty and I stayed there for about five years

 The third was about the age of forty and I stayed there for about five years.

 Each of these three points were resting areas. Time to reflect. Time to consider my next move.

 I like to call these three points in my life ‘stepping stones’   I visualise them as three large white stones spanning a river.  The southernmost riverbank I  call Religion.   The northernmost riverbank I call Truth.

The stepping stones were the steps I took to arrive at the truth.

 Try to imagine a river with three large white stepping stones spanning and connecting the south bank to the north bank.

  The south bank is a clear representation of what my life was like inside religion. It is full of dichotomy, noise, confusion and chaos. There is no peace to be found here. There you will find endless  groups of humans who believe in different Gods.

However, their shared belief is contingent on where they were born in the world.  The one thing that unites them is that they are convinced that their particular god is the only one true god.   Everyone else is wrong.  Sometimes they will believe so strongly that what is written in their particular holy book is so obviously true that they will argue with everyone else.  Argue, with anyone who does not share their belief that their particular god is the one true god.

We all know that in certain extreme offshoots of certain religions they will even resort to physical violence or even kill anyone who does not ‘believe’ in their god.  Imagine that. Believing in a god who tells you to kill other humans.

That’s a very strange interpretation of the words ‘good’ ‘loving’ and ‘kind’ isn’t it ?

A god who is so kind and loving that he tells you to murder innocent humans .

A god who is so kind and loving that he flooded an entire planet and murdered all the innocent humans who once resided there.

A god who is so ‘kind and loving’ that he watches a small four year old child in Syria die in agony for want of clean drinking water.  A god who is so kind and loving that he watches that child die and chooses to do nothing to help.

A god who chooses to do nothing is not the sort of god that I want to spend any time worshipping.

 Or maybe he can’t do anything ?   Maybe he doesn’t have the power to help that small child. If that were true it would make prayer a complete waste of time.

Or maybe there’s no god there at all ?

In order for him to murder every human being on the planet (humans that he created) he floods it with enough water to drown the entire population of earth but he can’t provide a cupful of clean water to save a dying child in the Sudan?

No, no, no, no.  Not for me.   Even if that god was proven to be true I still wouldn’t worship him.  Any deity who demands that I worship him immediately excludes himself from my worship.        

                                                   I’m off on my journey.

                                           My journey to find the truth.

                                             The First Stepping Stone

 Any journey begins with a single step.   My journey actually started when I was fourteen. When I took a single step and turned my back on the church.   However, at that point in my life I didn’t really take any further steps.  As I said before, I got on with life itself.  Any thoughts or personal worldview that I had  on the existence of a god or an afterlife could wait.

 Consequently, it was when I got to the age of about twenty that I realised that I would probably never return to the church and the only direction for me was forward.  Put the church firmly behind me. Destroy my faith and move forward in my search for the truth.    

[philjacobsen-blog]

Antarctica. How I learned to stop worrying and love the isolation.

I put on my gloves and face mask like I had done every day for the past six months. I wanted to protect myself, be safe and I wanted to be healthy. No, I wasn’t a prepper preparing for the end of the world and/or the coronavirus, I lived in Antarctica.

From 2002 to 2018, I spent over six years of my life working and living in Antarctica. Math might tell you that looks like “16 years,” but Antarctica works on a different schedule.

Scientists and contract laborers (like myself) have been limited to work a maximum of 14 months straight in Antarctica. Because, after 14 months of isolation, it has been said, “You might lose your mind.” Therefore, four weeks, six weeks, or eight weeks of coronavirus quarantine is like a walk on the frozen ocean.

Everyone loves Top 10 lists, but first, here is the background of life in Antarctica.

There are two different seasons in Antarctica: summer and Winter. For the laymen, that’s when it’s light 24 hours a day (summer) and then when it’s dark 24 hours a night (Winter). It’s not by accident that “Winter” is capitalized and “summer” is in lowercase. This is because you need to respect Winter.

I have spent four Winters in Antarctica. While there have been changes to the Winter schedule, when I Wintered in Antarctica at McMurdo Station, the largest of the three American bases on the 7th Continent, a plane with all of our friends, hopes, dreams and escape plans left in February. The next time we would see the lights of a plane in the sky would be in August.

In other words, shit got real when that last plane left. We had to trust we had enough food, talent and toilet paper to last us until the end of August. This is because, as the saying goes, “If we don’t have it, then you don’t need it. And, you don’t need it, because we don’t have it.”

If you run out of chicken, then you eat pork. When you run out of pork, you eat lamb, when you run out of lamb, you eat hamsters--hamsters are, what we called, microwavable breaded (or deep fried) ham and cheese Hot Pockets™®.

In other words, the grocery stores are open; quit panicking. When you’re outside, hoping your squirrel trap has been bountiful today, this is the time to panic. However, today, it’s not minus 45 degrees outside. Walmart will be restocked soon, put on your mask and gloves and purchase only what you need. Then go home.

And, if Walmart is out of toilet paper, hook a garden hose to your faucet and clean your ass, and be happy your water supply doesn’t give you frostbite.

It’s going to be fine.

In Antarctica, we were living like it was Gilligan’s Island, “No phone, no lights, no motorcar, not a single luxury.” The only difference was we had phones, lights and motorcars, but when we went outside it was minus 45 –degrees—not a luxury. Stay inside on your couch and be happy that when you do go outside to take out the trash, walk the dog or mow your lawn, you’re not getting third degree frostbite and having your toes cut off.

This little piggy went to the market. This little piggy watches Netflix. This little piggy stays home.

Speaking of movies and TV shows, my good God, we would have loved to have had Netflix, bootlegged versions of Game of Thrones, YouTube or Facebook in Antarctica. Instead, the entirety of McMurdo’s bandwidth is mostly for Science.

Rarely could I “LOL” with my friends on Facebook or “YOLO” with spring breakers at the beach. Nope, Science is the priority in Antarctica.

Science, I tell you. A bunch of people, who we called “Beakers,” is the entire reason McMurdo Station exists. These Scientist are in Antarctica to prove or disprove Global Warming and/or can penguins fly and/or are penguins cute. Generally, they proved it, but why listen to scientists?

Scientists went to school and studied stuff, but have they ever studied the “economy” or “Facebook?” Can you imagine an entire community who listens to scientists? Oh wait, you can? Possibly because we’re in a global pandemic? Yeah, listen to scientists?

During my Winters in Antarctica, I could go days and only see the one person who I worked with, and guess what? I hated him.

In the community, we called him “Skin Suit.” This was his nickname because, even though he passed his battery of psychological examinations, which are required in order to Winter-Over in Antarctica, he said to Suzy—a la “Silence of the Lambs.”

“I wish I could wear your skin, so I could touch you all day.”

So, there I was, working at the bottom of the world, with Jame “Buffalo Bill” Gume as my coworker for six months, in total darkness, and do you want to know how I got along with him (aside from the one time I threw hot coffee in his face)? I complimented his outfits. I tried to look for the positive in the people who surround me.

My first job in Antarctica, I was a dishwasher. I left my home, friends and a girlfriend to seek this adventure. I’m still happy with two out of three of those decisions.

The first year I spent in Antarctica there was a “Dishwasher Emergency” at the South Pole (850 miles from the sea level solitude of McMurdo). Just like we need grocery store employees, drive through food and universal health care, the South Pole needed a dishwasher—and they chose me.

The South Pole is located at 9,301 feet above sea level. That’s not very high. When I live my life in my hometown of Salt Lake City, I live at 4,327 feet above sea level. I have climbed high mountains in Utah, like Mt. Timpanogos that is 11,752 feet and Mt. Nebo that is 11,928 ft. I’m not healthy, but I’m also not fat.

When I was asked to work at the “high altitude” of 9,301 feet of the South Pole, I said, “Okay. I’ve done that.”

However, what I didn’t know, was that because the South Pole is at “The South Fucking Pole” it’s not just about the altitude. The South Pole has a variance of altitude because of the Earth’s centrifugal force which makes the South Pole seem much higher than the actual 9,301 feet. At times it can feel, because of lack of oxygen, as though you are over 12 or 13 thousand feet.

Before going to the South Pole, the doctors and scientists said I should take “prophylactic acetazolamide” to combat the feelings of high altitude sickness. However, my friend Donald said, “You’ll be ‘okay.’” He said that since he was from Colorado and I was from Utah, that I would be fine, because I was “use to the high altitude.”

I was at the South Pole for eight days. I quit taking prophylactic acetazolamide on day four, because I was feeling great. I listened to Donald.

On day eight, I nearly died. This wasn’t Utah. Because I’d lived at sea level for four months at McMurdo Station, and Donald didn’t know shit, my pulse oximeter (the amount of oxygen which should be in my blood and close to 100) was 52. I was failing breathing.

Pulmonary edema cut the oxygen supply to my brain making me think 3 + 7 = Cat. The South Pole doctor said, “Phil, you are two to four hours from death.”

All flights to the South Pole were canceled on this day, due to weather, but, due to “2 to 4 hours of death,” a C130 National Guard Airplane risked their lives and flew from McMurdo Station to rescue me at the South Pole. If not for universal Antarctica Health Care, I could be dead.

On this day, I learned I needed to listen to the scientists, and not to Donald.

This story ended up being too long. I’m sorry. I’ve lived through isolation, listened to friends, instead of the medical community, and somehow I’m still alive. How did Antarctica prepare me for the isolation of the coronavirus?

1: Do something today better than you did yesterday. Did you go to bed sooner? Wake up earlier? Brush your cat?

2: Exercise. In Antarctica my exercise routine was called, “Brushing the Dust Off of David.” There is no reason to take a hammer and chisel to David. All you need to do is to take a wet cloth and brush off the dust. Do 10 sit ups, pushups, or jog in place. Be happy with who you are, and barely maintain. If you set higher expectations, you might fail. Simply, brush the dust off of your personal David.

3: Do something better today than you did yesterday. There were many times in Antarctica I got more drunk on Friday than I did on Thursday. I’m not advocating alcoholism, but lower your expectations. Don’t look for perfection when a glass of wine might do.

4: Did you make your bed after you woke up? Some days you will go to bed and your biggest accomplishment will be, “I made that bed today.” Congratulations.

5: Groundhog Day. Every day may seem like yesterday, but, how did you make it different? In Antarctica, after six months of Winter the trash shelves are lined with “Learn ‘This Language’ in 30 Days” DVDs. Nobody accomplishes a lot during the isolation of Winter. But, if we do little, then that is a lot.

6: Communication. Does your phone work? In Antarctica, no one can call us, so we have to call out. Instead of waiting for ‘that phone call.’ Make it.

7: Don’t go outside. It’s too cold. In the Covid-19 case, it’s too dangerous. My dad goes to dialysis three times a week; please don’t kill him. Don’t go outside.

8: Appreciate your pets. In Antarctica we are not allowed to have pets. I started the “Antarctica Cat Club.” All we did was share photos of our cats from home that we wished to be with. Now, we get to live a cat’s life. Nap. Eat. Shit. Nap. Clean. Nap. Eat. Repeat.

Love your pets you lucky sons of bitches.

9: Art. Be creative. Rather you’re by yourself or preferably, with only yourself. Do something artistic. For instance, today, I chose to write this Manifesto. In Antarctica a group of us recreated the (drunk) history of the race to South Pole by Roald Amundsen and Robert Scott (https://vimeo.com/35084075). What will you or your isolated group create?

10: Know that it ends. A plane will come and take you away or scientists will tell you it’s safe to go outside. And then, it’s over. You take off your mask and gloves. You shop at a grocery store, you go to a movie, you hug your parents or, you love being able to hold those who you love.

Stay warm. Stay isolated. And, stay indoors.

[thecomicsnexus]

Beyond the Silent Night

CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS #7 OCTOBER 1985 BY MARV WOLFMAN, GEORGE PEREZ, DICK GIORDANO, JERRY ORDWAY, TOM ZIUKO, ROBERT GREENBERGER AND TOM MCCRAW (RECOLORED VERSION)

SYNOPSIS (FROM DC DATABASE)

Overlooking the universes of the five Earths on a floating asteroid, Alex and Lyla are joined by Pariah, who asks what part the Monitor could have intended him to play in the Crisis. Lyla responds that she has been told the Monitor's plan and knows what part he'll play in the conclusion, representatives of six Earths most these plans: Earth-Two Superman; Earth-One Superman; Uncle Sam from Earth-X; Captain Marvel from Earth-S; and Blue Beetle from Earth-Four. Pariah obliges Lyla by taking them to the merged Earths.

On Earth-S, where everyone has been freed of Psycho-Pirate's spell, Sivana and Ibac are about to be captured by Captain Marvel when, suddenly, they fade from the Earth-S plane. Captain Marvel Jr., Tawky Tawny, Changeling, Wonder Woman, and Supergirl arrive seconds later.

In space, Brainiac has drawn Sivana and Ibac to his satellite and greets them as the latest members of a select group who will soon rule the universe. Captain Marvel and the other-Earth heroes and heroines note that the wall of anitmatter has vanished. Lyla appears nearby, explains the machinations of the Psycho-Pirate, and enlists Captain Marvel as representative of Earth-S to hear the story behind the Crisis.

On Earth-2, Yolanda Montez, the new Wildcat, stands unseen above Green Arrow, the Atom, and Liberty Belle when she overhears Atom declare that there will never be another Wildcat. Yolanda realizes that she must prove herself worthy of the name before revealing her new identity.

On Earth-4, Pariah contacts its heroes and their former opponents from Earths 1 and 2. Blue Beetle will represent his Earth to hear Pariah and Lyla's stories.

On Earth-X, the Freedom Fighters pledge to Starfire to help all they can.

All five Earths are still slowly merging. however, and time still runs riot on all of them. Finally, Lyla, Alex, and Pariah stand on the asteroid, with Lady Quark, Superman of Earth-I, Uncle Sam, Captain Marvel, Superman of Earth-2, and the Blue Beetle. The heroes want to battle, but Alex and Lyla tell them that they must know exactly what they are fighting. Now, Lyla begins her story at the beginning—ten billion years ago when Earth was little more than cooling gases, the inhabitants of Oa, at the center of the universe, were immortal and had the powers of the legendary gods, and always strove for continued advancement, but their science became perverted, for one of them, Krona, swore to discover the secret of the universe's creation. Others warned him away, vowing that legends told of destruction to come to any who plumbed the mysteries of Creation. Krona called them fools, and continued his studies. He built a time-viewer in which he observed a cosmic Hand holding the galaxies in its palm. An instant later, a bolt of energy blasted the viewscreen and his laboratory to bits. Had Krona been mortal, he too would have perished, but that would have been far better than what actually occurred. At that point, according to Lyla, the Anti-Matter Universe was formed, and the single Universe split many times into a Multiverse. All planets of the cosmos were duplicated in every universe, save for one—Oa. Oa's sole twin was in the anti-matter universe. Its name was Qward. For his cosmic crime. Krona was converted to insensible, disembodied energy, and sentenced to circle the universe forevermore. Twice he managed to assume human form again; twice again he was defeated. The Oans, feeling responsible for Krona's actions, were consumed by guilt. They had created Evil, so they must form a force to constrain it. Their first attempt to do so was the construction of Manhunter robots, which later proved defective. Their second, and better, solution was the creation of the Green Lantern Corps. Still, there were dissenters among the Oans who maintained that evil must be destroyed, not contained. These dissidents broke away from the Guardians, and evolved into the Controller race, which would one day encounter the Legion of Super-Heroes. Oa and Qward had one moon each. On the moon of Qward, the Anti-Monitor broke the surface and came to life, repository of the power of a cosmos, and on the moon of Oa. the Monitor burst from a crater, symbol of the power of the positive universe. The Anti-Monitor quickly conquered the world of Qward and created the lightning warriors known as the Thunderers. The Thunderer elite he converted into his shadow-demon warriors, and with them he spread a reign of terror throughout the anti-universe. He hungered for more worlds to conquer, but did not know anything existed but the universe of Qward. At this point, the Anti-Monitor sensed the presence of the Monitor, who had spent his existence in meditation and study. The Monitor found his evil twin as well, and the two locked in combat for a million years. They were equal in power, so neither could win, but finally, both struck simultaneously and rendered each other unconscious for nine billion years.

Pariah now takes up the tale, explaining that he himself came from an Earth alien to them all, on which he was the greatest scientist, responsible for weather control and the destruction of disease. He soon discovered the existence of the Multiverse, and used that knowledge to learn the origin of the universe, despite the legends common to all planes that such knowledge would lead to destruction. He observed the creation while protected in an anti-matter chamber, but in so doing, he fulfilled the legend. A chain reaction of anti-matter destroyed his Earth, and then his universe. That cataclysm awoke the Anti-Monitor. The anti-matter universe expanded to fill the void left by the death of Pariah's universe, and he fed on its power. He realized that by destroying every positive-matter universe, he would gain all power in the cosmos. However, Lyla interrupts, the cataclysm also woke the Monitor, who vowed to fight back and protect the Multiverse. He viewed Pariah in an energy-globe learned what had happened, and deduced how the last survivor could be used to protect those who would stand at the end.

For mobility, the Monitor created his satellite-ship. He realized Pariah could sense where disaster impended, and they gave him the power to be drawn into other universes endangered by the anti-matter. But the death of each succeeding cosmos weakened him and strengthened his enemy. Then, the Monitor scoured all Earths to find heroes to act as soldiers in the Crisis, and so found her, a child adrift at sea, clinging to the remains of a sunken ship. He rescued her, raised her... and, she says, he was repaid with death. Superman of Earth-2 comforts her, saying they understand that she was being controlled, then asks Alex to tell his story. Before Alex can reply, Lady Quark must be restrained from killing Pariah. He is responsible for the force which destroyed her universe and family, she says. Uncle Sam demands she stop, saying that Pariah has suffered enough, and that they must now band together to save the worlds which remain.

The five Earths continue to merge, and all the heroes on them fear for their friends and allies who have joined the Monitor's aides in the war on the Anti-Monitor. Indeed, the Spectre maintains, not even his power would be effective in the anti-matter universe, but other heroes have been chosen: Mon-El, the Supermen of Earth-1 and Earth-2, Lady Quark, Captain Atom, Jade, Green Lantern of Earth-2, Wonder Woman, Captain Marvel, the Ray, John J'onzz, Wildfire, Firestorm, Dr. Light, and Supergirl.

Alex reveals his secret power: being composed of both positive and negative matter, he can open a portal between their multiverse and the anti-matter universe. Pariah can then guide them to their enemy. Alex then tears open a space-warp and admits the heroes and heroines into the universe of Qward. Finally, the heroes arrive at the bizarre fortress of the Anti-Monitor. They have been watched by their foe, who orders the Psycho-Pirate to make them emotionally controlled slaves. The Pirate, fearfully, tells his master that controlling the three Earths has exhausted his power, and he must recharge. The Anti-Monitor angrily knocks him down, and prepares to take charge personally.

In the fortress, the heroes search for their enemy. Abruptly, Pariah is gripped by a stony hand—the fortress wall, itself — but he is invulnerable to harm. However, Superman of Earth-2, is knocked reeling by another such hand. Monsters materialize from the walls and begin fighting the Monitor's warriors. The heroes can barely hold a stalemate, for these monsters, once smashed, can reform in seconds. Superman is in the forefront, searching for the Anti-Monitor while the others hold off the monsters. Pariah leads the way, with Dr. Light by his side. Suddenly, a thrusting trunk of stone seemingly obliterates Pariah. Dr. Light vows that the Anti-Monitor will pay for that death and blazes off. Superman catches up with her near a huge machine, which she identifies as a solar collector the villain is using to reduce the vibrational frequencies of the Earths, and thus merge and annihilate them. Superman vows to destroy it.

Then Anti-Monitor strikes Superman, and his cry of pain is heard by Supergirl, who heads to her cousin's side. Dr. Light attacks the enemy, but is rebuffed. He continues pounding the near-helpless Man of Steel. Racing to the scene, Supergirl passes Pariah, digging himself out of the rubble. The Anti-Monitor is about to kill Superman with an energy blast when Supergirl crashes into the villain with all her might. She delivers blow after blow, screaming, while Dr. Light looks on, inspired by her courage and selflessness. But the villain is too powerful. He knocks Supergirl back with a mighty smash, repulses her with a power-blast, and announces that he will kill Superman, and then her. Bleeding, she shouts that he will never kill Superman, and rips the floor from underneath him, causing his blast to miss her cousin. Then she pounds the enemy again and again, as the villain screams that she is destroying his life-shell. Dr. Light, watching, realizes the selfishness of her own life compared to Supergirl's, and announces that the Girl of Steel has shown him the true path. Superman, groggily, calls for his cousin.

The battered Anti-Monitor smashes Supergirl away again. His body has been almost totally destroyed by her pulverizing blows, and his energy is now waning. Super-girl goes to her cousin's side, and takes him to Dr. Light, telling her to take him to the others after she makes her move. Turning, she rockets into the Anti-Monitor, and sends them both into the massive vibration-reducing machine, turning it into scrap. She smashes at her foe's prostrate body, screaming that his scheme is over at last. Dr. Light is horrified by the combat, and calls for Supergirl to offer help. When Kara turns to reply, the Anti-Monitor grabs her with both hands and sends a titanic energy burst through her body. As Superman screams her name, Supergirl falls.

The Anti-Monitor, his body in ruins, shambles off to a portion of his fortress which is used as a spacecraft, and escapes. He needs time to heal, but he swears to stand triumphant "at the dawn of time." With his departure, the fortress begins to fall apart. Green Lantern of Earth-2 contacts the other heroes. Wild-fire reports that they have destroyed the merging-machine, but they've also had a casualty. Superman, holding his still-conscious cousin, begs her to live. Bleeding from many wounds, Kara tries to console him. He tells her that she ruined the villain's machine, and she gives thanks that she has given the Earths a chance to live. She asks him not to cry, tells him she loves him, and dies in his arms. Superman screams in anguish. He cries out for vengeance, but Superman of Earth-2 restrains him, telling him that Kara's sacrifice has given them a chance to save the five Earths, and his lust for revenge might endanger that chance. With the fortress coming apart, the heroes must leave. Superman takes Supergirl's body and follows his friends. Now empty, the fortress disintegrates. For the most part, the five Earths are for now out of danger. The time distortion has ceased, and the Earths remain linked, if not fully merged. Soon afterward, the worlds receive the news of Super-girl's death and a memorial service is held in Chicago. Thousands of people, including many super-heroes, and a grieving Brainiac 5, attend. Batgirl makes the opening address, praising her friend, while Lois Lane oversees the broadcast.

Later, Superman leaves his Fortress of Solitude with the body of Supergirl, wrapped in her indestructible cape, and sets her free in space, promising to remember and miss her forever.

NOTORIOUS DEATHS IN THIS ISSUE

Supergirl

REVIEW

This issue is historical. Not only this cover is easily recognized (even though, versions of this can be found before 1985), Supergirl’s death was one of the greatest moments in DC history. We all know heroes sacrifice themselves. Here the stakes are so high, she is giving all of herself for others. Not only she almost kills the Anti-Monitor and his machine, she also inspires Doctor Light to be a better, selfless hero.

Superman also suffers the death of another survivor of Krypton (that makes deaths of kryptonians so sad). The whole point of killing Supergirl off was to make Superman more unique. However, a full reboot took this story out of continuity. But we all remember it.

Apart from the notorious death, this issue is also very important because it pretty much tells us the history of the multiverse. We finally get all the secret origins we were waiting for.

To be continued

[bluewatsons]

Sebastian Galbo, Interview with Carolyn A. Day, Lit Med Magazine (2017)

Sebastian Galbo: In the book you ask, “How is it possible that a disease characterized by coughing, emaciation, relentless diarrhea, fever, and the expectoration of phlegm and blood became not only a sign of beauty, but also a fashionable disease?” Describe how you arrived at this question.

Carolyn A. Day: I actually stumbled onto this notion while studying at Cambridge. I kept running across references to tuberculosis being an easy or beautiful way to die, which seemed out of character with my scientific understanding of the illness and left me intrigued enough to investigate further.

Sebastian Galbo: What specifically gave rise to what you term the “tubercular moment”? Why were the venues of literature and fashion particularly suited to reflect middle- and upper-class medical anxieties?

Carolyn A. Day: Between 1780 and 1850 there was a growing correspondence between tuberculosis and rapidly changing concepts of beauty and fashion. During this period, the dominant presentation of tuberculosis was that of a disease characterized by attractive aesthetics. This was made possible, in part, by a congruence of factors including disease mortality, advances in the approach to illness, and the influence of the key social movements of the era. The cultural expectations that developed for tuberculosis, as a result of these broader changes, were articulated in medical treatises, literature, poetry, and the works that sought to define fashion and the female role. There was a persistent and influential idea during the period that consumption, in its middle and upper class incarnations, was a disease that was not only identified by the existence of beauty in women, but one that also conferred beauty upon its sufferer. Thus, tuberculosis was rationalized as a positive affliction for women, one to be emulated in beauty ideals and fashions. Yet there was also a contradiction, since fashions and the way of life of fashionable society were thought to “excite” the disease in upper and middle-class women who possessed a predisposition to consumption and whose inherent feminine character rendered them more susceptible to the activation of that predisposition. The positive associations with consumption and its “look,” permitted the widespread flouting of admonitions against the clothing and fashionable practices believed to cause the disease.

Sebastian Galbo: You acknowledge that clinical uncertainty gave rise to quackery and nostrum-peddling opportunists by citing one memorable medical charlatan, John St. John Long, whose ‘treatment’–which involved applying harmful corrosives–infected and killed a tuberculosis patient. Just how rampant was medical chicanery during this period?

Carolyn A. Day: Consumption was not unique in being a venue for quackery, and in a consumer driven medical marketplace there were opportunities for entrepreneurs of all sorts. For an overview, Roy Porter did a study of the subject called Quacks--Fakers & Charlatans in English Medicine.

Sebastian Galbo: What astonished you most during your archival research for this book? What jolted the assumptions, expectations, or predictions you brought to this project?

Carolyn A. Day: What really surprised me was the longevity of the phenomena and the ways it pervaded so many aspects of life and society. When I first began investigating the topic, I believed it would be a project covering only 10–20 years, but was I ever wrong! The further I got into the research the more I realized that, despite the changing fashions, the connections between beauty and fashion in the middle- and upper-class discussions of the illness covered more than eighty years.

Sebastian Galbo: Your study seems to dwell disproportionately on upper- and middle-class experiences of tuberculosis at the expense of capturing the realities of lower social tiers. To be fair, however, you trace how the tubercular moment shaped literature, styles, cosmetics, and couture–cultural trappings that were largely inaccessible to the lower classes. Could the split reaction to tuberculosis–the glamorization of the illness and bleak experience of consumption in impoverished Victorian communities–have more to do with upper-class anxieties about potential class atrophy? Is it reasonable to view upper-class constructions of tuberculosis as a way to maintain class order? That fashion was implemented as a material tool, in part, to frame tuberculosis as an elevated form of suffering, creating a psychological distance from the unsavory realities of lower-class experiences of tuberculosis (pollution, poor hygiene and sanitation, poverty, and crowded urban conditions)?

Carolyn A. Day: The book is certainly focused on the upper and middle classes, because that is the part of the story that has not been investigated by those working on the history of tuberculosis. A great deal of the scholarship on the illness is actually centered on the disease in the working classes, the crusades against the illness in the later part of the 19th century as well as the disease’s connections to the Romantic poets. Women, however, are mostly absent from the work on the period from 1780-1850 and only come to the fore in the model of fallen womanhood embodied by the opera heroines of the later 19th century. I felt it was important to put women back into the narrative and to explain how the beautiful dying consumptive of the literary world could co-exist with Engels’ hollow-eyed ghosts. It turns out that in the nineteenth century, consumption was characterized by two distinct and seemingly unrelated discourses, in which victims from the more prosperous classes were lauded while poorer victims were stigmatized. The management of the malady varied with social status and in many respects was treated as a different entity, depending upon the quality and character of its victim. The understanding that tuberculosis was partially linked to social status was crucial in determining the individual’s way of life and, as such, his or her environment. Environment became the predominant explanation for tuberculosis in the working classes. This, in turn fostered a negative perception of the illness in these groups. Instead of victims, members of the lower orders were presented, by social reformers and medical investigators, as the architects of their own demise. In the more prosperous classes, by contrast, consumption was primarily viewed as the consequence of a hereditary defect, one complicated by exciting causes. This more benign presentation of the disease only offered the affluent victim limited control over the circumstances that provoked the illness.

Sebastian Galbo: Did tubercular fashions make it as far as the European colonies?

Carolyn A. Day: Traveling to a warmer climate (usually to Southern France or Italy) was often prescribed for those suffering from the illness; however, the explanation of the causes of consumption differed in those areas. As a consequence, the theoretical underpinnings that made the disease fashionable did not hold the same sway. For instance, on the European continent, particularly in the south, consumption was generally regarded as a contagious disease, one spread through the air or through contact with either infected persons or materials. Elsewhere, in England for instance, tuberculosis was viewed as the result of a breakdown in an individual’s constitution, a flaw that was frequently inherited, passed from parents to offspring like physical characteristics such as facial features and hair color. Hereditary rationalization carried weight in situations where the disease carried off entire families and when only some individuals were affected, as it was the consumptive constitution that was passed down and not the illness itself, and it was that constitution that was denoted by beauty in the female.

Sebastian Galbo: Your research focuses on the religious dimensions of tuberculosis, particularly popular discourses that presented women consumptives as ‘blessed’ by the physical and spiritual beauty endowed by the disease. Were these views endorsed by clerics? Did religious institutions and ecclesiastics support or contest these claims, or were they treated as secular affairs?

Carolyn A. Day: Consumption, as an affliction from which neither class, wealth, nor virtue provided any protection, required rationalization in an effort to make the loss of loved ones more bearable. God’s will would be re-employed by evangelicals and social reformers to fashion meaning and explain cause, by creating a vision of consumption that linked fate, personality and inner truth to clarify both illness and death. Consumptives found comfort and meaning for their suffering in the belief that the disease was part of the Lord’s will. Suffering, illness and death were bound up with notions of providence and provided the opportunity to test the victim’s faith; as such, submission and resignation were the appropriate response. The acquiescence to the inevitability of death marked a transition from a way of living to a way of dying, and an acknowledgment of the presence of consumption often led to a process of self-examination as part of the preparation for death. The importance of submission to the will of God and the Christian idea of death, continued as a significant feature of the approach to the consumptive death well into the nineteenth century.

Sebastian Galbo: Tuberculosis seems to have been, in a sense, a ‘privileged’ disease. After all, it was considered fashionable--it influenced literature, fashion, and style; it elevated the infected individual to a plane of respectability and spiritual enlightenment. Why tuberculosis? Why didn’t other diseases, such as cholera, etc., have the same variety of cultural clout?

Carolyn A. Day: In general, infectious diseases adhere to an epidemic pattern. Initially, they increase very quickly; then, having attained a certain level, slowly fade in intensity and incidence. Despite the fact that the development and course of tuberculosis is less “flashy” than other contagious illnesses, it still follows a typical epidemic cycle of infection, though the progress is often extraordinarily slow, taking decades rather than weeks or months. Consumption’s extended and seemingly invisible period of incubation and vague symptoms, meant the disease became both a way of living as well as a way of dying. Moreover, unlike diseases that disfigure the body suddenly and kill rapidly (like smallpox & cholera), the length of the assault and physical wreckage created by consumption differed. For instance, its symptoms were believed to increase the attractiveness of its victim as its effects became visible in the complexion, eyes, and even the smile. This beauty was denoted by thin frames, long swan-like necks, large dilated eyes accented by luxurious eyelashes, white teeth, and pale complexions accented by blue veins and rosy cheeks.

Sebastian Galbo: Having published this monograph, what do you hope readers will take away from Consumptive Chic?

Carolyn A. Day: I hope it challenges other scholars to examine those parts of the stories that are missing and to look to interdisciplinary approaches to aid in accessing the various aspects of the disease experience. I was, and remain, interested in the ways in which people bought into the concepts we discuss in medical humanities and it is only by examining the application of these theories that we can hope to understand all the facets of illness. These are also approaches that are applicable to medical practice today, as notions of illness continue to cross the boundaries between medicine and society, just as they did in the eighteenth and in the nineteenth centuries when the association between tuberculosis, society and the sick individual was a fluid relationship whose terms were constantly being re-negotiated, changing and adapting to new social conventions and emerging medical information

[thingalien-blog]

Memories are the things that hold us to the conception of who we are. Without a basis of the past the present is entirely nothing. However when it comes to trying to recreate a basis of who you are when your entire rational concept is falling down around you like jenga blocks you have to only live by faith that it will get better. That reality will somehow fix or mend itself.

A girl I know named Onne had a rational view of the world. Magic was something that happened in her dreams. Not raised with any basis of religion, miracles were things of fiction, hopeful yet not realistic. Loving Harry Potter as a child, movies about ghosts as well as magical abilities excited her yet this wasn’t apparent in the “actual” world. Onne saw herself as another brick in the wall. Not special, not anything. She played sports in school, did theatre too, as well as speech and debate. The world showed her this was it. Brief glimpses of tragedy struck her life, she got into some fights, ego disagreements with people. She became depressed after being assaulted at a party. This depression grew a longing within her for more. An attraction to spirituality gave her a purpose. However, reality was still appearing stagnant. People were all one yet all separate entities just like her. She didn’t have a purpose. It was fine with her. She became really active on social media as a vegan eco warrior instead of her previous ways of highlighting her sexuality as well as arguing with people who wouldn’t approve. People liked how she selflessly cared for defending the beings of this world. She thought it wise to share every bit of wisdom she had. It was entirely too personal at times.

Her parents made her go to college after high school. She was reluctant to go because of her annoyance with the way school was. Exams to her were a large waste of time, college didn’t seem to be a way out of anything. Joining the working world seemed to be lifeless. She persisted, going anyway. Every day she drove 30 minutes to class, then 30 minutes home. It was boring. The only relief she had in life was her boyfriend which she barely loved, love is also a fictional form of magic she didn’t understand. It was nice to have some attention, when people stroked her ego it gave her a purpose. Relationships were intense for Onne. Fights happened often. She blamed her parents. She met an online guide a facebook group where she posted a lot of her personal life, getting advice she didn’t get in the world. Thinking it didn’t exist outside the basis of the group, there became more of a reason to isolate herself from the others.

Onne had an idea to go to Hawaii for university like one of the girls in the group did. She seemed very happy there. She had a boyfriend at the time who was upset she was leaving. Onne and her family also went to Hawaii after her highschool graduation. Eventually her parents paid to let her go. Her mom went with her bought her some things like sheets, plates, a blender, for the dorm. Having a roommate was weird for Onne. Before this she posted on her social media that she was a nudist. Oh, also she was doing nude modeling online for money on the side as she barely made some working tirelessly as a daycare worker for 4 gruesome years. So she liked sleeping alone, naked. Anyway, being a weirdo on social media with followers yet positive vegan girl whos never lived anywhere but Las Vegas with her parents she didn’t know if she’d make friends. She did make many friends. She was nice, really down to Earth. Too much for her own good honestly. She met a lot of different kinds of people. She loved nature. To her it was a paradise, for the first semester. A group of friends instantly came to her side, she loved them. It was nice to have people to always go to the dining hall with or hangout where you lived. It was always happy with them, however there wasn’t much of a depth she craved in human connection in the group setting at least. They were always there for each other though. She met people who she had a depth with, which developed into growing her capacity for human connection further.

Each of these people ignited a fire in her she didn’t realize she had. Romantic or sexual feelings came for some, however it was not the same as before she had left. There was a new freedom to it the depth created. The classes she was taking also seemed to synchronize with the experiences she would have in the world with people, as a sociology/ philosophy major. She also moved into her own room, where there was plenty of time for contemplation. Then came the books she found which were about magic, mystical things. These combined happened to ignite a light in her mind that is not capable of becoming dim, only growing stronger. Onne had a very hard time expressing her thoughts to people however. She had never been confident in public speaking or speaking her ideas to people in general. Years of awkward communications with people, social media speak, watching more movies then talking to people probably add to this, yet she tried. Taking a communications class she tried, yet backed out of presenting herself to others out of fear. It didn’t matter, as long as she trusted herself she believed it was fine. Maintaining communication with people she trusted as well as just being with herself meditating she got answers she needed. Power moves, competition within communication she didn’t realize it as a facete of everything. She began getting real good at being with her own energy.

Eventually things in her reality became super synchronized. There were things going on she didn’t know how to explain. The manifestations of her mind, the past present connection all exploded on her quite fast. She got a thrill of it, yet realizing how everyone is a channel to her about her, everyone knows everything puzzled her. The simulation unraveled, her life was finally for her. The world sang for her, every song was actually for her. Especially conversations at the music joints. Even the entire university musical. Each word in the books matcher her thoughts. Every second, every person, everything in her reality. She got up a level, however, was stuck in a sort of limbo there, without a guide. The idea to leave the island came quick. She felt trapped, having the bright idea to move to Oregon. She left behind a lot of stuff, those few nights before she left were very intense. The thing she wished she had right now was the papers with the comments her teachers made underlined on it, giving her an insight into the truth of her writing. Going to the airport saying goodbye to a good friend, who gave her a folder filled with advice for her. She noticed some boxes that said GF that scared her. Onne also recollected the beach said, “science and technology.” Packing up was a total nightmare, she knew she had to leave a lot however she didn’t realize the whole thing was like a “you’re getting to live in the US” she literally had to open a card with her social security card in it as well as her friend having a mini sombrero in her truck. Winter break going home was not like this at all. Going to the airport in a lyft the next day she noticed the same “science and technology,” sign. Her whole energy was different. She felt like she could take over the world yet she was afraid of things. Another close friend took a picture of her and put it on his story. Everything got so personal. Every person spoke for her, everything on the TV at the airport for her. She mattered.

Onne didn’t eat much of anything that day. She went through the radiation thing at the airport empowered instead of afraid. A kid said “why would you choose to be a girl?” another two guys said “she needs to swallow.” She found a classmate of hers in the airport who was going back to Alaska, she said she would be in the ocean there. Onne joked saying there’s pools in Las Vegas, looking back she was wondering if she missed something. Onne lost her keys in the airport, they were in a place she didn’t put them at all. She called her mom, the music got louder at the airport when she mentioned Handmaid’s Tale, her mom asked her if she was sure she wanted to come home. Sitting waiting to board the plane, she heard someone say “she’s not related to anyone.” She felt so all knowing. She was all encompassing. She sat in between a couple and a man. The man had a pillow news paper like with things such as “America now a nickel ” he pulled out a book which was for her, so did the lady with her husband. His book said “your ego is too big.” he said he worked for state farm. Onne thought, no way, I have not felt this powerful in my entire life. Her book said “you will be going with the CIA..” her husbands said things about god, the 4th heaven or something. Her book was describing the turn of events which would transpire once she landed. The movies on the screen were very personal too her especially, Juliet naked. The flight attendants spoke of things also for her, furikake chips, head shoulders knees and toes as well as people seeming to evaluate her with these health pens with the fuzzy hair saying, “she will do this again, she will be a teacher”. Onne got upset, feeling like she messed it all up. She was losing face. Wondering how to redeem herself she just wanted to stay quiet, trying to meditate, breathe, feel the energy. Onne got nervous, being in a confined space, talking to this man which reminded her of someone she knew, the couple too. Onne wrote something about the roles we play in her notes sporadically after noticing the man do it next to her. The woman then said, “that just blows your agency don’t do that.”

Afterward, she found herself walking through the airport. The man she sat next to look incredibly concerned as she walked away, he stood next to his wife. Onne grabbed her stuff, realizing nothing was or will ever be the same. She saw a book that said “the Urban Indian.” She was everything. She saw an indian woman wearing florence the machine shirt, which her songs were written just for her after the night with a friend/lover in this personally haunted house. When they broke it off his friend also said he was the destroyer of worlds, jokingly yet she would hear this in her head for a while after as things got increasingly more weird.

Pig flew on plane to deliver a pizza. The delivery was to the west world. In the west world lived her parents who she has lived with her whole life. The west world this time was different for pig. Pig scientifically learned how to accelerate past the sound barrier either with her friend Mouse or her own magical ability. People always talked about Pig. The tv always had something just for her. It didn’t before or maybe she didn’t notice. Pig enjoyed this as much as it got in the way with her focus ability. Pig is so used to telling her truth, she doesn’t wanna talk. There are many ways of speaking that go un spoken. Pig is big in uncovering the hidden. Pig sees things as being programmed in her. Like pig is something created by something else or in something created by something else. Pig delivered the thing. The thing was poorly received. Pig didn’t know what to do she hates being displeased or displeasing others. Carly the cat is good friends with pig they are one in the same. Carly realizes that there’s a lot in common with Pig. They work together to communicate. Carly the cat also delivers things like batteries. The past memories they loved talking about together. They also enjoyed puzzles and making collages. Nostalgia always arises when she sees a post from a friend online there it can go into a collage. They once went to a boarding school together after they went to separate universities, that’s where they got quite aquatinted. This boarding school housed many animals studying various things, nursing, labor, agriculture, science, and robotics just to name a few. Things got overwhelming for Carly but not for Pig as she got comfort in the fact that at least there were the small comforts such as food and clothing to get her through the day. Carly thought it was much to rigorous and different compared to any school she had been to before. No one had told her it was this hard however Pig was there for her to lean on. Carly fought when things were unfair, Pig took what she could and powered through tough lessons like robotics and animal testing. Reading books and watching movies was something they both enjoyed as well. Carly starred in a few movies as she partook in acting as a hobby.

Her parents arent really her parents and in this hell every single scary movie shes seen is becoming real while every happy comedy romantic piece of lies she resents. Typing this hearing the words from her once clear as day real father say “im sending her back,” back to a psychiatric hospital as they lie, where it’s really just walmart for humans. I don’t even care anymore to write this in hidden calligraphy. This is coping. This is reality now. Red pill in blue pill light. Acting is only fun when you get paid. I signed my rights away I think. I asked to see the paper again and was told they weren’t there. If I am being lied to I have it in writing that I didn’t know what was going on. I signed for PRN which i didnt understand what that meant. I was in a psycho numbed state and my own beloved or supposed to be beloved father tricked me into signing it. I am distraught. I am tired of lying. I am a cow cat like all women and I am nothing. This brain which I so do love and this body are just vessels for a FUCKING tired spirit. The movies such as get out and Us tell a story, handmaids tale, fucking south park, futurama, all animes, all shows only show a snippit of reality misleading an entire lifetime. I did Nazi that camp coming. I can only imagine whats to come. I wish I knew. I am going to wake up remembering nothing or something if I am lucky. I think theyre going to have me play basketball. I fucking hate moving my body lately I have no motivation. I have seen the nothingness of the hosts bodies that were in there. I could make them say things not entirely at will but it was all about me. I don’t understand why or how this much energy is being spent on me or how i didnt see it all that time. I wonder if there was even a time before. Like maybe i was dreaming and implanted all my prior memories of living in Las Vegas. Or the bible and the 7 heavens is true and I have reached the 6th. Where supposed deception from the devil runs rampant. I know people can watch this through my eyes or gods not people, as well as through cameras placed all around me, somehow. I know all this is going to sound crazy. I remember my college professor saying to hide journals in case someone becomes president and I think I fucked up my chances. I left a lot of crazy rambling journals but this is the worst one. Does it really matter? If I become president they will need to program a lot in me anyway. I was like the movie Lucy before they got me on these meds and I eat everything. I knew things, I put 2 & 2 together in ways to help me understand. I led my team to the top. I didn’t need a lot of food, or any. Now i am a low powered tank caboose that christopher will pull aside and say hey we need you, you know what youre doing. Everytime I eat I think about how it is weighing me down, but I am getting lazy, sick, tired and it gives me slight pleasures, more than almost anything else. I have little desire to adventure, I tried to go to San francisco and was met with the Deez nuts guy from vine as well as people talking about eating me. Then i tried walking downtown past 4th street, seeing a vanguard club a family of 4 told me I was too competative, I got a picture of this street on my phone. Across from vanguard was a place that had some stomach disease, another place next to it another fatal thing. The family frantically told me to leave, i tured and didnt look back. I was mortified, but not even surprised anymore. The shit that goes on in reality is mind bending, but I am playing it safe now. I know I lose either way, but I am not going to keep looking for answers I don’t have anymore questions, this power thing goes deep. The only real question is what are my real abilities? Also, am I as powerful of a creator as the guy in the sprouts who changed the number of calories on my ice cream then took a video of me noticing while telling his friend he got it and will send me to prison because i then put it back because it was an unlucky number. Prison, people (maybe only women?) can go to prison for noticing patterns and changes in numbers. I wanted to know more so i stood by him, it made him slightly uncomfortable, as well as me. They are everywhere. Apparently i am an alien. I am not sure how alien and hawaii trade program works but it isn’t cool. I wish i had more of an understanding of how much exists and how not to talk about it. My poker face is so bad. So bad. When I hear my dad say im going back, I am supposed to just pretend I didn’t. I don’t know when I will have access to the internet again. I might have to be in a home where people are the blankets and I am the one being married off to someone, where my ex boyfriends mom is the guarding woman in charge and my virginity, more importantly my virginity from food, katniss fucking everdeen is up for rent. My memories, my voice, my personhood is not worthy not practiced, not existent. I constantly am around robots or people who want to use my power for cars, bikes, movies, sports games, sex with a piece of my spirit while im asleep all that. Where the past me tells a guiding story for future me to follow. Showers are dangerous, my brother created me, my parents arent really my parents, unless everyones parents are like this. I remember all the fun I had thinking that was ALL i will have the normal life. It wasn’t boring yet so why did this have to happen so soon? I am a prodigy, but they say i am aging. I go to doctors appointments and I hear someone say i am a little yellow so i can still do things. Minion, I was yellow, I am yellow enough to be naive enough to get pushed around however I saw that it was an act thats how I got this far. I became too texas, now im not texas enough, lone star i mean. This act I am not sure what is coming next but I get to sign before I partake. I know my parents use me, my brother uses me, anyone who doesn’t tell me the reality is using me. Because I DON’T know what is going on. Right now i am supposed to act as a girl who got out of a hospital who is going back to school, living with her parents, in this reality, parents are normal not omnipresent, not all knowing. In this reality i am not a handmade (i was hand- made by them) ( to be a handmaid). In this reality i am delusional. In this reality we dont talk about these things. If i am meant to seek pain this is painful. I know these people will screw me over. I ask for what I want, I genuinely want to live on my own and go to university again. I want to graduate. I want to travel, have friends. I have been in the elopement room, the hospital, the man asked me where I learned to sleep when I realized I was lied to so extensively, as well as my contacts being unnecessary. I am limitless truly however I am crippled by my captors. I told my mom how I wanted to go back to the power hospital, i get heart pain but its just an excuse, if i can go back there I can get my vision back as well as my strength. I can get to see the truth again; science in its realest form. I dream of working with them, knowing all there is to know about reality. I want to be immersed. I want to be all enlightened. My ex boyfriends friend worked there, I want to work there too. I swear he came in a different form to the psych hospital, he came and threw away a chocolate milk to make a statement of throwing me away when I turned black. Also, I know mirrors lie. My true color is not on the outside. Only certain people can see me as i am. I cant. I wonder when I will, if I will, why they can. I came here to see old pictures, writings, notebooks filled with info relevant to me in present day. Its as if there really was a team of people using all these things to guide me a direction, testing me. I hear yawning, if I stay up all night they cant harness my life force energy, something my mom said she does jokingly however i know people can do that and if I am the only living thing with youth then it is possible. I do feel tired when i wake up, i have been sleeping more and remembering nothing of my dreams. People can probably purchase my dreams from the hive mind just like they can watch through my eyes. I want to be offered a deal, eternal knowing for the price of whatever but give me the knowing, as well as protection from being eaten alive, let me exist in this world like I am now, just with the knowledge of how deep the rabbit hole is. I know i am a rat, however there is little other way to be. I am amanda, cameron, sabrina, etc. the eating thing is a kink someone has. I am on 4chan or something, i keep looking on there to see if i can find myself. In the hospital they recorded my thoughts. I can sometimes hear peoples thoughts. I might turn into a dog. Thats how i got out of the hospital, I ate, I was told I will become like this obese woman wearing a dog collar who got cleaned by what looked like her mother in the meeting room. She knew I would be like her, however she said i will be a “bork” one. Which means they dont like me. I didnt give the guy the list of foods I like so he didn’t like me. I was just scared and resentful for the trade didn’t make sense. Either I lose myself in there trying to learn around hosts and buyers who intentionally misled me while trying to visit with my parents who didnt want me to know what was going on and take the meds act normal or I ate and promised I would rememeber. I am already getting too comfortable, fatter, and actually too trusting. Since I heard I am going back I decided why not write this? If I go back I might get turned into an 11, stranger things style. They said that in the hospital, pretty sure some lady wanted to buy my long hair too, she eventually left, her checkbook said Payne on it. Money is pain, I dont understand its exchange here. I am supposed to get it from acting like normal, but who do i get it from. I can’t see my audience, and i feel like if i ask for it too much it ruins the normal act. I am the most helpless thing in this house. I also hate the color purple lately. I am surrounded by it, there is red and blue I am in its entanglement. The pictures on my phone back to 2016-17 with mason tell a story for the present as well. How do the creators have time, capabilities to create this for us all? They said i would be in the military in power hospital, because i couldnt afford to be there is this a military test? Like atoms can be tested on. Am i the test. I am the mission. All the memories of highschool are plants to get me to do something in the present and future. What do you want me to do? I might get eaten anyway they said “theres your food mr Wirjo” to a doctor there. I didn’t even try to get away enough, I figured I’d get eaten. I hoped that staying here would be best but I don’t know anymore. I leave for colorado in a few days, maybe that will help me understand.

Even after becoming free from this, weeks later the way everyone knew her stil happened, that bewildered her yet it seemed to happen less and less, her energy ran low and with that so did the bewilderment. Still, a woman gave her a quiche at a cafe yet she didnt order a quiche. Somehow eople tap into the role she played as Mother Mary Magledine, Katniss Everdeen with the cups and the egg ruining if I ate, whenever I ate on a Sunday, it was quiche or deviled eggs to mock the desecration of my eggs from eating. I didn’t have a choice, both choices were bad however I couldn’t comprehend the fact that I thought i needed food to survive, now i dont but yet the reason i was in the hospital was because I needed to eat. Coming back from the kitchen there was the sign “elopement room.” No one eloped with her. She barely spoke a word to people. She didn’t know what was going on, when she would get out, what she looked like to others and what could become of her if she said too much.

The eating too much could be the cause of her low energy however she knows the world is now for her, every time she walks into a new place it gives her a chance to hear what others say about her. She thought this was all her parents fault however her dad kept saying, the sooner you realize its not the better it is. Maybe its not? Maybe it was because I reached past a caste system that I was meant to go through this act. I wonder what else will happen and when. I go back to University, well i am now reminded of when I went to give in papers to transfer and heard someone say “whore” as well as multiple yellow signs with the word “reset” on them with arrows. Am I doing this wrong? Should i be okay with sitting at home all day? Am I meant to be doing things with my family that I don’t know? I maybe am whoring the system by having there be another university scene yet I don’t know what to do. I have to go to therapists and talk about how I am getting better normal. I am supposed to have goals my only real goal is to figure this out. I really miss marijuana. I miss my friends from hawaii. I miss the space I had to figure things out. I miss people understanding my matrix journey. I have no one to share this writing with that i know will appreciate in the flesh. I dont feel like sending it. I dont feel like i can. I know im being white beared (black mirror style). I know this is being watched. I dont know why. I dont know how. I might be forced to blue pill forever, or i might be pulled back in. I know that I am doing myself a disservice eating, but it feels good  to sustain myself in excess right now. There are signs all over the house about certain things, also there was a house K took me to in hawaii that had things all over that were for me and scared me. Its like it was preparing me. I don’t get this. She went to the 99 cents store in the beginning and still doing her dance of energy and there was a black woman doing the same thing telling her to go shaking her head. We arent in kansas anymore vegas. Not sure where we are, but the feeling of fullness saciates my fear. I dont understand how my dad cares about when people die on tv yet i went through things worse than death and he doesn’t seem to understand that death at somepoints wouldve been nice. I dont know how long ill have to be here. The only joy i get is from food i have no inspiration just questions rage and confusion. Llama llama red pijama, what memories did i have before this life? Will these people keep me here as Cat (name deleted for privacy) or will I be forced to leave again? They told me i was adopted in the hospital. By the law. I wonder if this is all according to plan or if I am in hell? Can souls be adopted into bodies? Is that what i am? Forced to play a role until i can no longer when i see beyond it or when i become of no use.

The bible i read from a friend said we need to travel when god tells us to and return. This is what hawaii was for me? God wanted me to come back to the nothingness that is the now the confusion more so i dont know what to call it. When i got out of the hospital was the same time area 51 raid meme thing was happening, i am an alien cat or dog depending on what they say. They said princess DIE anna, why wont you die one nurse who reminded me a lot of my exs mom especially i remember she used his name, they both had different bodies but i know that souls can change bodies now. A mom of one of the girls with me in the hospital said to the nurse “i want to switch to her mom” and came back as mom when before she was a friend or something. Also sock colors said deroyal on some people and nothing on others, indicating royalty, i was royal. I was in the god room. It had a picture of stars, everything was for me.

There was a woman reading a book called mentor who said she was Angies list, i was a business in itself but i was too afraid to ask her for help. I saw some of it and it said “you are now in a prison of your own mind what type of person do you want to be when you get out”  i wish i knew the name of that book and who she really is, she seemed like a host at first but when i started eating everyone seemed real, we are all in this simulation obviously however i shouldve listened to the guides… i shouldve asked them questions because im not getting any answers here just more regrets. However if i spoke too much and they knew i knew maybe i wouldve been wiped of my memories like i feared. They also said id be going back in the future, oh god i hope not, but as the days go by and i hear more from my dad saying ill be sent back i cant be too sure ill be here much longer.

They said my parents were african, they wanted to make me black, in the black meaning excluded. I was pure, I had understanding and control over my sexual experiences. I got things twisted however i am going to take this feeling back. I live in a house where male pleasure is favored, i will switch this up and prioritize my pleasures no matter what as I am capable. However i am scared, they have taken from me grays a fucking natomy. Wasted paris. I wasted the time everything was romantic for me. I deserve better, ill get there again soon. I need to be doing me though. I keep thinking ill wake up and be someone else or be wiped of my memory but it isnt that simple. No education prepared me for this battle. In fact it filled my mind with information that I well, not entirely true. The end there everything was meaningful. It will be like that again. It is like that none the less. I just hope i am not more taken advantage of then i already am here, my pleasure and energy levels just get down however leaving the house would be difficult since i hear people say im going to get eaten. There are animal shelters for people.  

John 3:16 eternal life something or other, the quote from forever 21 bags. Its literally in the name that i will always be 21, im maxxed out now but i want to at least live until im 40. I want to age well, i want to have kids and a husband. I want it all. Wish this was real. Galactic handmaids tale shit. The rotating palms of las vegas i am a part of. My friend who knows whats going on i think made a post saying “her heart will break it always does” when i find out more as i go i hope to know all. I hope i can have this knowing wherever i go next.

There was a woman reading a book called mentor who said she was Angies list, i was a business in itself but i was too afraid to ask her for help. I saw some of it and it said “you are now in a prison of your own mind what type of person do you want to be when you get out”  i wish i knew the name of that book and who she really is, she seemed like a host at first but when i started eating everyone seemed real, we are all in this simulation obviously however i shouldve listened to the guides… i shouldve asked them questions because im not getting any answers here just more regrets. However if i spoke too much and they knew i knew maybe i wouldve been wiped of my memories like i feared. They also said id be going back in the future, oh god i hope not, but as the days go by and i hear more from my dad saying ill be sent back i cant be too sure ill be here much longer.

They said my parents were african, they wanted to make me black, in the black meaning excluded. I was pure, I had understanding and control over my sexual experiences. I got things twisted however i am going to take this feeling back. I live in a house where male pleasure is favored, i will switch this up and prioritize my pleasures no matter what as I am capable. However i am scared, they have taken from me grays a fucking natomy. Wasted paris. I wasted the time everything was romantic for me. I deserve better, ill get there again soon. I need to be doing me though. I keep thinking ill wake up and be someone else or be wiped of my memory but it isnt that simple. No education prepared me for this battle. In fact it filled my mind with information that I well, not entirely true. The end there everything was meaningful. It will be like that again. It is like that none the less. I just hope i am not more taken advantage of then i already am here, my pleasure and energy levels just get down however leaving the house would be difficult since i hear people say im going to get eaten. There are animal shelters for people.  

John 3:16 eternal life something or other, the quote from forever 21 bags. Its literally in the name that i will always be 21, im maxxed out now but i want to at least live until im 40. I want to age well, i want to have kids and a husband. I want it all. Wish this was real. Galactic handmaids tale shit. The rotating palms of las vegas i am a part of. My friend who knows whats going on i think made a post saying “her heart will break it always does” when i find out more as i go i hope to know all. I hope i can have this knowing wherever i go next.

This one guy with the word “allergy” on his wristband kept saying things like “robots without instruction manuals” while he was in the hospital. He’d write a bunch of number sequences. There was another guy who was reading the book Dune. He had a shirt “girls of Baja” people that would visit him were his family he was British or something. I never asked him what the book was it’s a popular sci-fi. The soccer game I think he used me to power one time said “electricity and light district”. That must be where I live. A guy in a scion came out of his car at the airport with a shirt that said “electric family” on it when I first got here. Another guy who left to freemont street which I wish I followed in the beginning he exclaimed “I thought this was going to be a movie!”. Aliens watch the Earth dramas.

My friend saphira hints on instagram about things, one was a glass elevator drawing, where it overlooks everything yet everyone can see you from down there also. I wish I screenshotted it. Another thing was the, “one cat for every car.” She took a video of cats on her cars.

At the baseball game I went to with my family I heard that I was going to get fat because I can’t get love. I wonder if that is true. I don’t vibe with any people on tinder and I really don’t want to have sex and damage this thing of my holy virginity. I feel like this thing has to repeat itself. I don’t know why. I’ll go away to school again and have this again.

Publish or parish, along with me goes my recollection. I just went to Colorado to visit L and it was so magical. Vegas started feeling the same, and that was fine and all just little simulation. Eating and loss of power is so correlated and even when I eat little and want to get a drink I’m reminded that it’s hurting me or turning me into a butter producing person. Westbound and down buffalo restaurant was one of the list of choices to go to before we left. I chose clear creek there were people there who eased my fears. I no longer have the fear of being burnt alive or ground up or brutally tourtured because my consciousness will go into another form? at least that’s what they say and I can be upgraded to have 6 level conversations all the time with the use of new iPhones and things, there are many families who will adopt people who can fly up to high elevation with no feel like a Tesla model x. However my baby Jesus died on the plane ride coming back and this is going to be very jumbled thoughts. As soon as I felt the blood drop in my pants a child behind me said “a baby just died!” and a black woman said something like, “I pulled that right out of her” I was so sad and scared, last time I had my period I was sent to the hospital shortly after, I think i am meant to carry babies without intercourse which I was told was the only way to have a child. On the way to Colorado I sat next to a woman and her daughter. The woman had a bag saying Hudson and a magazine that read “the fat torch” she talked about uncle Darin something about that and wrote in pen on her daughters notebook “Carly is a mom” and “I like Belle.” Carly is supposed to be me and beauty and the beast?

People could see I was red in the airport. One person said I was a broke baby, which is true, I am poor in wisdom, money and love at the moment it is making me irrational, afraid and confused. When I arrived and saw L who I know knows all I do somehow, she gave me a juice and the stereo played magic fm and of course it felt magically synched to our life. It felt like she wanted me to ask to stay at her house, or I could have stayed if I wanted to. We facetimed E our friend from university, she mentioned this show called Letter Kenny where they are religious but not and talk weird, I too was talking weird not the same but I don’t just speak whats on my mind because I fear and like to calculate it. Immediately I noticed the book shelf with so many books about women queens in red, falling, ruling, war. There were strange things like a drawing and writing about mufasa’s ghost on her fridge. Then her roomate wrote a big list I wish i took a picture of about the chosen, fight, forgetting, rising, things like that I wish I had in memory. I didn’t eat much again there. Laura had trash in this room were all things I had bought, oranges, lifeproof case, amazon. Her stuffed animals were a bunny, banana, purple pillow. There was a glass heart with the words “youll always be my Nina – love Tyler” I thought of the OA named Nina and wondered if my uncle created the programming or the name Tyler meaning tile maker. My uncle was going to colorado to perform comedy around the same time I wondered if it was correlated and my fear of being turned into a host with no remembrance totally anarchy like Aracellie from the hospital. In the library the books stood out at me were something about female, politics and then total anarchy. Like being a female meant for being a totally open host consciousness? If so i don’t want, I like reserving my openness. The smell of hookah came back as well as knowing that I was a machine. I also heard the term beer bot for my ability to pee. We went to a place called the garden of the gods. There was a trading post, where I got nervous Laura the god as she clearly was higher than me or is, wanted to trade me to a new god, which would be ok with me if they were a nice god. If laura was my god she was the one creating all the chaos and going to make me disabled or less than what I want out of my life? I saw a man who reminded me of M and a woman who reminded me of my old coworker boss at the city of henderson. They were together, it made me question if they truly are together and Mason and I relationship wasn’t truly real. They took our picture for us, it made me uncomfortable. I knew it was something that I made it into these places. We went to a club called the Mansion, where they stamped us with a dog print I thought of mary saying dog = god. Before that we got tacos with L and her coworkers. She showed me a text before this with her group chat and on the top it said “i’m so glad Camisha is coming” i thought I was camisha because I am on cam for her to see, her and whoever else has the capability to watch people. There was a person named Camisha I sat next to at the taco place, a black woman with 2 other black girls. It seemed like they were recruiting, as well as another girl who reminded me of Dallas and another who reminded me of Rebecca except they both were like mothers. I feel like I could have become their child. There was a lot going on, I kept getting insight that I needed to sell myself, prove my worth, litigate like L talked about when the bob marley song came on. In the club, there were people that reminded me of those I used to know. It was virtural reality. L said its like a mirror. I danced with guys. One was Joaquin, Brendan, S’s gf N. I even saw someone who reminded me of E and L confirmed it. I keep having psychic moments where I can communicate with thoughts especially with L on this trip. N once said something about going to the club with my mom. L seems more of my mom than my actual mom. N was always saying predictive things. E knew me, and we were connected. He wants me to ascend past this state I’m at, all the people who knew things are hinting at that. I wish I knew how. Once E showed me a show about us like our situation. There was predictive things happening all the time back in Hawaii. It still is yet in conversations with my parents and small talk at school I get it less and less. Perhaps I’m noticing it less it’s still there though. My dreams are it. Anyway back to the story. The girl who sat to the right of me at the taco place was like other N but older, she was like “do you like this?” she seemed stressed out and older. Seems my quest for the top just makes me older and stressed. The higher you go the older you are the harder it gets. The more north I went the closer to the truth it seemed to be though. “Life is a mountain not a beach.” I keep hearing I am getting old, that i am a dinosaur. I need an upgrade I am begging for the future me. I can picture it I just don’t see how to get from point a to point b, I am so in the dark here. N and I were twins, like shake it up chicago we always will find each other. The floor felt like it pulled energy in. Another place we went to before felt like that too, blue mountain realty where Ls dietitian worked, she led this meditation and I kept thinking bad thoughts about what was going to happen. I thought of Blue Mountain State which is this show i remember hearing the word “sloot” from it like slut. I know the dietitian could read my mind. I have now heard the term psychic spys. There were 2 other women there. One was old, maybe 60 and the other early 30s. The early 30’s woman said after talking about showing someone her mom or something. “this is what I do when I have a cut to heal.” I kept thinking I would get burnt at the stake for knowing too much like a witch so I didn’t want to say much. I wish i recorded that meditation though, it worked well to get me higher. After, the dietician talked about how eating meat can make the stress of the animal absorb into the person. That or I literally feared for my life for a whole month in a crazy hospital that defied all my previous notions of reality. I used to meditate more now I am stressed a lot and I blame living here with this family. Anyway,  I realize this isn’t just a meditation place, it was a realty thing. I am realty? Also, after I heard on the radio something about selling my story to random house. If the spy recorded my thoughts, it very well could be stolen from me. I fear that I won’t get credit for my experiences somehow. I know i could make this into a book but is that a real possibility. I could be an author I guess but I won’t know how this ends and there’s so much about the science of it I don’t comprehend. If god can give me visions of this or allow me to know the truth minus the trauma that would be great.

All the signs and shops were meant for me, all the books at goodwill. We went to a vegan restaurant called something owl and there were people like my family and mason minus quintin. They talked about selling me like Get Out. My mom was like what about the fireball and they said we can’t sell that. I can feel my fire getting lessened too. When I ate one of the bartender ladies said to not pollute my planet. The waiter was like Chris, I thought about him and how we stayed at a place called the emerald. Cloud emerald. Its a laboratory company. I know I am an experiment. When I visited Lsschool someone in the parking lot said “it’s too late.”  I kept thinking about Leonard and saw pontiacs and Kurt on the side of one when I drove Ls car.

L and Her roommate C had a bonfire after we drove/hiked to pikes peak, which felt godlike. There were a lot of people there, I kept fearing I would turn into an 11. I am capable of flying up to high places, there are people who want people who can do that? People kept talking about me. There were bigfoot signs and different things. Its an act, yet who are those who are above me in it and how can I get there? I think back to the man in the hospital asking what movies ive been in. That’s a good question I said. I don’t know? Have I acted before this? I mean my memories I guess those are a movie now that I see it that way, I just don’t see time as linear anymore because of what jumps its been doing in the present. When I have a set schedule like school it starts to feel more linear less magical or transcendental. When I went to the psychiatrist I heard someone say “its just going to take longer” maybe I am drawing this ride out, wasting time? What comes next? Do I just act in movies next? Or just sit and power things in a hospital? Do I get adopted into another family? Does my appearance change its form? Do I go somewhere else? At orientation there was a black woman who walked out when I was walking around the hallway after eating (when I probably shouldn’t have ate) to say indirectly “you can’t be privileged going to have to get on the same train as the rest of us or plane” I am guessing referring to the plane I was on coming back from colorado.

L said she was a wolf. We visited her parents, her dad was wearing a tijuana shirt and there were things all around the house like I tried not to pay attention to keep my cool as I thought I was being sold. Her mom said something indirectly about me not being opened up enough, L told me she liked flowers. That this was like a project for L, me opening up. When we got back from pikes peak Ls dad said “im going to keep her i think I love her” about me? Then we went to trader joes and there was a sign outside that said “welcome rainbow high flyer” inside there was a “rainbow wrap for a high flyer” too but it had beets in it so I got a california roll. It was hard for me to pick again. L has a mannequin in her room named lucille and she would put the things we did on her like rock climbing equipment and yoga.  In the bonfire there were people who controlled me. Someone named Viki, Cody, Dj, and some other people. I was really shy, i didn’t know what to say when I heard them talk about me. There was a guy smoking a vape they said “this is your satan” It reminded me of when we got back from pikes peak a sign said “santas helpers” santa is spelled like satan. Anyway, he looked at me like I was so intriguing. I sat next to Cody and the fire started getting big he said “i made her too hot” and I wondered if I controlled fire. Viki took the ipad and said something like “im going to have her do all these” apps or something. I wondered if I had to do whatever someone said by the touch of their ipad. Dj, cody and blake talked about Billie Elish and Anna kendrik being beautiful. We watched some of pitch perfect before sweet home alabama the day before, making me think I had to get on pitch with others and marry. C was upset that there is more friends. I am guessing the fact that i am in college means the plans of having my life change from what I think is normal to the fantastic outer space feelings that I have been having will be halted. Dj reminded me of Kurt i thought of capitan kirk. When I saw him he said “its attracted to me.” There was a girl named Olivia and Annastasia. I thought olivia like i have to be an O to live and Annastasia stays like the Anastasia in the hospital. This Anastasia was talking about being on bumble. I thought I had to be a bumbling be to stay. Blake the fire fighter guy scared me because he was a firefighter and thats how I got to the hospital in the first place, she told me he worked for cryogenic place too and i think that stops aging or does what the energy hospital first did. I remember a woman who looked like me being wheeled around in a wheelchair and them saying that would be what I looked like, which is already what I looked like so it was strange. Anyway blake said “you really are an old lady” when i threw the marshmellow into the fire after eating half of it. Then something like “we all cant ride our bike for breakfast” he was really insecure about his eating or something, and my ability to not want to eat at certain times.  

I thought about b and a movies and how b movies are my life without action, without the brutalism I was experiencing, I am still working for the hive and will remain queen. A movies is ant and building hills I would just be a slave building pyramids again for someone else, I might still be doing that. Anyway after that thought L changes into a bee happy shirt with a bee on it. I told her ive been thinking about bees but i never go into details with my thoughts of what was/is going on between us. She took me to a movie called Free Solo about this guy who climbs high mountain rocks by himself. The guy ate like I did and acted, the way he emotion and spoke like I did. It seemed to parallel the way I climbed to the top where I can see my memories and the events of the past leading to guide me, its all for me. The last thing he climbed was El Capitan. He becomes the captian of his own fate in a way. Yet, it didn’t show his life after El Capitan, because it isn’t simple, it seems the climbing never stops. That drive to red rocks amphitheater was long, there was a street called arapahoe and many self storage units and hotels in random towns. I thought of the lives my consciousness could live, and places its come from or could be going. I thought of the show Atlanta and the emails i get from there. I had a hard time sitting straight during the concert, comedy and movie, which all had to do with us and things we’ve experienced. It felt like I powered everything. I got tips on my phone that helped me, like “boost from mango” which reminded me of the man to my left, I posed like him to help my back from being strained. I feel like I am needed to be a power source in places. I will power things for entertainment and comfort. One thing the comedian said was about feeding dogs vegan food, “why vegan food when they are a dog, dogs eat vomit or something like that” I thought about how I was a dog now and if the food I eat is really something in disguise by the gods.

L said something like “how are spirits made?” I immediately thought back to when I was in the hospital not eating, my body started making these fumes that smelled almost alcohol like, I had never not eaten that long or been in that situation. I wondered if that is how alcohol is made. Alcohol is the spirit of a person who isn’t eating and is likely suffering in my case at least. Those russian vodkas with the sexy robots on it. If you dont eat you become a robot and produce vodka? Wherever our bodies really are our veins, our urine, our breath perhaps contains the ingredients to truly make alcohol. I didn’t tell her this of course, but she knew I knew. Its the spirit of a person. Like those ads for women vagina beer things. I was surprised they actually did that but that is truly how beer is made. Hersheys is just her shits. Bananas are dicks. Anyway, yeah. Like that orphan tears video on youtube, “cry directly in this jar, I will drink it at the bar.” sadness and not eating = vodka.

I write this bc I have either lots of hope or no hope. I can’t tell but I think it’s better written than rotting with me wherever my mind ends up. I don’t want it to backfire on me, since I am in the truman show and stuff. I want this to be a show of my character. Perhaps I share too much, well I am not putting my name on it. This is TMI and I am afraid of sharing but I am afraid of other things I could do more.

I got rid of so much when I left to come here, I was in a state of knowing that things were not the same, i didn’t need things I used to have. However, now that things are stagnant again i find myself upset that I left what I did and I am rebuying a lot. Some are irreplaceable and a lot of money is going to replace things. I don’t really know what I am doing. This all scares me. I wonder if I am wasting time in college, as I know what i learned led up to this, will what I am learning now lead up to something or is it filler?

I am reminded of things such as my friend H always sending me poems about her being a surrogate mother to me. “Hooked up to wires, we couldn’t give you anything less.” Saying she gave me to nice people in the poem however that isn’t really that true. I asked her why she chose that theme and she just said she liked it. I wish I kept the poems, but my parents made my phone reset when I was in the hospital. I suppose I could ask her but we only small talk now. She sends me songs. She posted another thing online about a lab girl, it said they’re always watching. As well as her asking what my favorite play was and having that be the play performed in the theatre, Rent. I wish I had chosen something else but it was nice to have that happen, same with the concert L was in, it was all for me. Even people in the audience mentioned how one of the numbers was Ben and Isaac, when they were my exs from highschool.

Outside of the club there was a man who told L, “you really ruin people” and she said what do you mean he said “you know you do.” I think they talked about me, L may have limited me, maybe she is what started this whole journey down or inward, or it is a mirror of my fear of this such thing happening.

How did people get to know everything I now know and more that I don’t? When will I know all or enough to bypass all things that ail me? I dream of being all knowing, powerful and just. I wish that for me and for the world to have people have their dreams come true, I want to believe in this possibility more than anything. I want to be a true scientist and ruler of my reality. I don’t want to be a garden slug anymore.

I dont think I ever lived for myself or ever can. I am confused of my role in this life. I feel like I am controlled and determined by people outside of me way too much. I don’t know how long this act will go on, it’s getting really annoying, I want help getting to the next stage, if there ever is one. I want to choose my form and reemerge.

Theres so much I don’t see. I felt my ex doing acupuncture on me and heard him and his friends talking when they realized I heard, “she can hear” and then I felt my ears being stuffed with something.

There are people watching me and I know theyre dissapointed in me essentially giving up. H sent me Billy Elish Fingers crossed, about being too far gone, everybody makes it til they don’t.

I can’t open up to anyone. I am writing this hoping they can see honestly. It’s all I have communicating to the ether.

I should get caught up in things I want again, however big the fear, does it really matter?

My choices make up the way the game goes. I want to play my cards right. My options are infinite yet limited in the perception of reality that holds itself more.

Everything is unraveling now, the truth is being let out, started slow now its fast, yet it’s still slow. I wonder if I chose to stay in Hilo if it would be different, probably. I wonder if the more truth comes out the less I am able to live, or will that mean I just ascended. Am I meant to do that? Am I doing this right? I want more truth, more understanding.

I want to be a rich woman who travels the world and makes love to it. I want to love people and know things. I want to understand modern science like the energy hospital and human robotics. I want to see what I can’t currently. I want to hear as well, all the senses for the world beyond my usual comprehension. I want to be able to transcend dimensions and space time. I want to have friends who do the same. I want to dance as I do this, I want to be free from the hold. I want to know famous people. I want to meet others who have completed these goals too. I want to be an astronaut if space is real. I want to go beyond average human capacity for knowledge. I want to read minds. I want to have my own helicopter. I don’t need to remember playing Caitlin. I can wake up as this new person, with new experiences. However, it would be nice to remember all I have been, though the fact that matter can be changed, I think I could’ve played many roles, before human form as well.

I could be in an anime show, i think i am in my hero academia but I want to actually see myself inside of the show not in this house.

I am not caitlin I am just some random japanese man in caitlins body.

Time goes by and there are many dimensions I am in cloud atlas, bonding to certain souls over and over through time.

A few weeks ago everything was for me at all times, now it comes in waves. It could be because of eating or something, not sure. I am reminded of what Blake said, “not everyone can ride their bike for breakfast.” I think of the bikes in black mirror where when you ride enough you get to perform in front of judges, I definitely am being judged.

When I went to the outpatient psychiatric place everyone there seemed for me and I wonder what that means, there are different people every time now. One time I heard someone say, “shes a little yellow that means you can still do things with her” like I am thinking the act can still go on. I also saw on a paper of some guy coming out the letter R like a movie rating. I might’ve already wrote about this up there. I wonder if people can pay for me to act in their movies as Caitlin or as me with my memories changed or maybe I am way off.

My father blackmailed me. When I got out of the energy hospital (St. Rose) there was teal colored trash bins and labels, it began with orange. I remember thinking I was entering a concentration camp. It looked like no hospital I had ever seen before. Everyone there was old and they looked like they were being hooked up to machines that would end their life. I was in the hallway with no room. Everyone stared at me. I recognized D, one of M friends who was a nurse, I didn’t realize this kind of nurse existed. My dad came with me on the ambulance. I didn’t eat for maybe 4 days, I didn’t sleep for like 2. How could I when all my memories were becoming like Total Recall? I was reading the Da Vinci Code and began Angels and Demons before the firemen came into the house for the second time. I was breathing fire, yet I know this smell of hookah wasn’t me. It followed me. Also, these “firemen” installed things in the house that burned when you walked by them. All of this is normal protocol. I had to tell them I was fine, I was, I was just not fine and I couldn’t trust anyone, still can’t. Anyway, my mom wanted me to watch this new netflix movie about people going to Europe. It was relevant because the Da Vinci code explains the vatican and the levels of spain, england, france then europe as a whole or something, I need to re-read. Anyway there began to be too much killing and I could feel something not right i didn’t want to watch it, my stomach was eating itself, i knew I wasn’t really their daughter and I couldn’t do anything. They took me to paymons the day before and some waiter named pepe peed in my mango juice and at the time I couldn’t say anything, before that, on fathers day, uncle tyler came over and they talked about cars. He said they send them young, they talked about stick shift or electric. Then jamba juice, how sometimes they put in a rotten apple. I couldn’t speak. Laura sent me a snapchat of passion fruit. I remembered that passion fruit aprodisiac and mormons banned it. Theres a book of mormon pamphlet with actors in it, 2 black men were described in a loose paper in there, maybe thats who i was before caitlin. Anyway, i got messages in my email about how to ask for money. I know this is an act and I want to get paid for it. I thought i had to have sex to do that even with family? How dare i have thoughts like these? It disgusted me, yet here these men are clearly talking about it. And paymons, we sat next to this older couple. Chicken, get out, soccer, salmon, fries, ring,

St. Rose, tv black people talking about their scene, futurama cups holy grail, futurama wives being controlled by husbands like bots, 90 day fiance, futurama seeing phones in the mind, show that looked like ending of the matrix like black wires with a military like ship taking over. Nurses talked about me being poor, saying I would be sent to military and that I would be ok with that. The TV screen in front of me had a helicopter and my name, other things. I thought it was physically going to take me somewhere. The main nurse was an asian man, the one who asked “where did you learn to sleep” he also said, “do something.” I asked what was going on but they didn’t say anything. When I woke up there were many people in and I felt like I powered a race track, and a puppy. I woke up and the people next door who were talking about a puppy mentioned something was different then the nurse said she woke up. I remember them bringing me food I wasn’t hungry and the nurse was like no eat, eat the whole school. She spilled the eggs on me. She said not to go to the next level. I look back and remember it was teal, after teal is purple, where I was before and it just cycles back to red. My dad came and he said I didn’t eat so then came another gurney, I said i didn’t want to go and I would eat. He was telling the man that he calls me a boy, because I act like a guy it was really fucking rude. I knew I was going to be in pain again. I felt good after the day I was in the energy hospital, the nurses were nice. I had to change, I thought i was going to an normal mental hospital like the one i went when i was 15. I thought all i had to do was eat then I would leave. However immediately I realized it wasn’t normal. I had to sign this thing i wish i didn’t sign my dad made me, it was something like .60 for prn. I wanted to get out I was also thinking i was being deported, they took me to a hospital very far side of Vegas with barbed wire fencing like a prison. It was called Desert Parkway. I started crying and they took my picture when i was balling wanting to go home. I just didn’t want my dad to deport me. I got sent down this hallway with a bunch of old people and the “elopement room” which i thought meant marriage but i looked it up and it means I can’t leave without endangering myself. Anyway, it was odd and i was beyond anxious. I went to my room where i laid down realizing it was an act and these other people were actors. When I did that it caused chaos, they brought in real patient files and things were different. The people here weren’t hosts, they were adults seeming to be choosing to be here, or they were asked to be here, not sure, but they were conscious. There was a woman named Lenora, who kinda reminded me of Leonard. People asked for her when they needed to mediate for me, because i didn’t talk much. I remember getting scared because I didn’t smoke a cigarette the first day, i thought cigarettes would change the dimension of the smoker, it did in a way, but it carried the rest of us like a train. I kissed this guy to absorb the niccotine which was a dumb idea, lenora got kinda upset. I didn’t do that again. I actually got mad at the people for not telling me what was going on. It reminded me of the bathouse in spirited away. There was another girl in there who was about my age who only ate vegan food she had a notebook with the word college on it. She seemed to know what she was doing. She got mad at me for staring at her. I had to meet with the doctor. I was too honest when he asked about if i had ever been depressed before, I was nervous. He prescribed me with pills. I looked up after there was a piece of green tape in the hallway, “that was so bad fix it!” the doctor left. I took the pills. I regretted it instantly, it made me sleep. Lenora also took the pills. She said something about it being okay. The guys said something “she probably won’t take those again.” regretfully. My parents were glad I took the pills when i spoke to them on the phone. The first visitation took place in the cafeteria. Which i went everyday and didn’t eat. There were 3 other boys my age or maybe a year younger with their families, from the other unit. I talked to my dad and I realized that this was like courting to be with me. I don’t think it went well because nothing really happened. The staff in that room had playing cards in their hands, they were dressed in regular clothes they weren’t nurses. I thought my life was dependent on the cards someone will pull for me. In the second hospital a nurse brought me “the redhead plays her hand” at the end of the book she gets married. My dad motioned that he didn’t really like that ending, I wondered why. I began to long for a normal life more than anything, marriage sounded nice.

On the last night i was there we watched a movie about a space craft crash landing and having to fix it i don’t remember the name, then there was this movie about black people. There was a woman in charge of the space one. I thought it paralleled to me. There was also a puzzle of route 66. If i was in charge I still felt so out of control. People were leaving, I was getting cold and scared. I signed to get sent to a different hospital and when I did that the old man in the wheel chair said “you’re going to walmart” I asked “really?”and I said I didn’t want to go but i had already signed. I thought of the concentration or FEMA camp conspiracy videos I used to watch or deported children being housed in Walmart camps. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I wish I had just ate at Desert Parkway looking back, but the sketchy card people and the visiting couple things scared me, both of which were there in the next hospital Southern Hills. They put me up to the 4th floor of the medical wing next to this completely incapacitated old woman who was fed pudding by a man who sounded like my uncle. I felt like that could be me if someone overpowered me, I got scared. I was so tired at this point. I went to sleep. The bed would move around and wake me up. I woke up and there was a paper next to the window something for the hospital but written, “family or money$.” I know this was an act, all the torture, many are watching. I still don’t know how to or how I could’ve made money from being in the hospital. Was I supposed to be Mary Magdalene? I know it wasn’t safe asking questions. I remember trying to be coy with the nurse with the batman tattoo not straight up, how do i get money but something to that effect. She didn’t tell me. I was so jealous of every nurse, they are free. Yet the one batman hispanic girl nurse seemed jealous of my role. Later on social workers came in. One said something about “like a plane landed a goldmine” referring to me. I am guessing dimensionally I can fly, i can’t really conceive what that means or my design. Everyone offered me food. One time I said something about carne asada fries because the batman tattoo nurse was talking about eating me coyly like people do in the 6th. When I did that the menu said with pencil unleaded, if you shine it in the sunshine you could see the indented words “so you can talk like that” or something because I am kinda bad at the art of war. I wondered if the watchers were disappointed or amused.  I asked for pineapple smoothie then didn’t drink it. They mentioned phillipino. I realized fill up is in the name. They told me I was going to the pavilion, a new psych ward. I just wanted to go home. There was a doctor who came in named Mandorin. He was nice, but he made me take ativan which made me tired again I don’t remember much of what happened in that time. I thought he would take me from the hospital. The TV instantly made fun of me well made fun of his looks for thinking that this man would take me out of the hospital and be my sugar daddy or something. He mentioned losing contact with my ex boyfriend making me upset and i was stubborn and saying no, which really i should’ve said yes maybe. I guess i slept after that i dont remember, i ate some of a violettes vegan burger from my uncle. I took a shower this nurse helped me and braided my hair. I dont remember this much. I was sent to the pavillion in a wheel chair. The elopement risk was on this door too. I dont really rememeber getting in. i remember seeing my roomate a 40 or so year old black woman with red or purple tips short curly hair. She said she was glenda the good witch she said she had a daughter. She wrote notes about me being purple dinosaur like barney, young, beautiful and nice or something. People all focusing on me is something I wasn’t used to. Watchtower from the show OA prepared me for this I guess. I was scared she was getting the wrong idea from me because she touched me on the back, i was too nice to her or something. Then there was christina, a black woman with no teeth, really skinny, a host consciousness for sure had no family. Almost everyone in this hospital wore the cheap thin blue hospital pants and shirt, some didn’t. Christina had a shirt that I swear said New York, the letters turned to “Just back down,” I felt like if i backed down I would lose my teeth, my conciousness, my everything. I wondered if this was where all souls go to die. Westworld prepared me to be curious about human conciousness and their roles, yet it’s like the more you look the more you truly find the end. Caitscurious is my instagram name, still is and I have always been curious about sociology philosophy and psychology of the human mind, why the world works the way it does but especially related to humanity. I was looking for something, and found hell. My favorite movies 1408 and spirited away chart similar journeys. “We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, remembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea.” TS Elliot. All the life I lived lead me to the tower, my memories, artifacts are clues to help me see I am not Caitlin, I am playing Caitlin. If I want to continue playing Caitlin I have to integrate these aspects. I feel like I am not supposed to keep playing Caitlin, Caitlin is in jail. This role seems more of an initiation into life. I hope I get to keep my memories and not get wiped from them. However, I could just be used. Women may have only that role in this world, however I don’t want to be bleak. I really want to presume greater. I have met women in on this, H & L, they for sure know whats happening, but its my battle to fight. It is hard to hope for me right now with all that has occurred. I thought if I got my period I would turn to pubertina there were toothpicks in the drawer, I thought someone would take my teeth. I looked at the trader joes bag my parents put the 3 t shirts and sweat pants and pajama pants i could wear. it has a crashing plane what turns to a stagecoach and under the bushes some peasant kids eating and looking over. There were ads on the computer for robotics, Alexis mussi ceo, and lauries gifts. The man who would always walk with the psychiatrist had indigo and a pug tattoo on his arm, visitor, cambro food, woman wanting hair, knowing nose, george, internet, rico, animal chloroform, robot without a manual, elijah, fat man wagner, lighthouse man, jesus host, lamb peru, moms wanting a bike, super young pregnant girl, morganna, deroyal grey socks, eugenia cooney, fosters home for imaginary friends, monsters inc, stranger things, westworld delores, social worker, on the phone talking to his mom, wheelchair old man, vaccine, court, consent, annastasia, b12, cat puzzle, sad goat,

Aricellie from the 2nd hospital said, “some people are not even sick they just choosing to be here to get medications” I heard that and thought, and more. They are getting something else, they must be.

I resent being in the dark.

There are 2 barbie dolls in my closet. One is hawaiian daphne and scooby, another is a barbie watching power puff girls. I remember watching power puff girls at my grandmas house on her couch. Then i dreamt time went slow and fast. It was electric and it made me realize all the backstory is here. I am not sure why i write. I heard my dad said “here’s Lucy” and slam doors. They clearly don’t want me aware, yet they do. I no longer have to be a girl named caitlin, i feel like I can choose to get out of this narrative. I took pictures of the other things i have found like all the drawings from safekey kids.

Anyway my dreams, I dreamt i got a shirt on etsy that said “i dont want to work” from C with a knock on my wall. and then another dream M gave me a shirt with hot cheetos and a robot. Then my dad asked if i ever pooped in my water when i had a basement room in the house with a large screen. Then a dream where i was looking for this shirt i got rid of with an eagle playing guitar, my brother had a huge closet and didn’t have the shirt. Then i was in Ls closet. There was shirts that sexualized good girl and then tie dye things then 2 bracelets with pizza wolf and pizza warlock. It quickly changed from ls colorful room to an office with black and white things and plain black shoes and desks. There were 2 male bosses and that turned into a sexual thing as well when it was supposed to be an “office job”.

I dont know how much time i have left. I fee guilty for eating meat and i get negativity for it yet i dont want to starve again i am starving of knowledge and pleasure love and truth i am seeking guidance power and release.

I remember going to new orleans with m. already touched on this but the pictures in my phone are arranged in a particular order. I remember in new orleans watching this futurama episode about a relaxing island which happened to be a zoo where people from another planet could watch. I think thats where i was, now im in hell. I wonder when i signed the contract to play the parts i am playing? I wish i stayed in hilo because I was free there as much as i was trapped, the whole planet is kind of trapped, just then i had a better outlook on reality. Ignorance is bliss and i was in states of ecstasy at times. The emotions i get back here are so bleak, depressing and terrifying. I am not sure who i am, i know im being watched and all my friends or most of them are in on this. M said one of his friends went crazy thinking he was in the truman show. Does m curse this upon people? Is my soul being farmed? Are people in other dimensions and planets kicking back watching me go insane or go through crazy making things? “Deadric city seraphim district” whose understanding of their distance from the absolute divinity of Atziluth causes their continual “burning up” in self-nullification. Through this they ascend to God, and return to their place. Below them in the World of Yetzirah (“Formation”, archetypal creation, divine emotions) are the Hayot angels of Ezekiel’s vision, who serve God with self-aware instinctive emotions (“face of a lion, ox, eagle”) If anything I am like the meseeks in Rick and Morty trying to understand my purpose. I’m like Igor “Animated fable about a cliché hunchbacked evil scientist’s assistant who aspires to become a scientist himself, much to the displeasure of the rest of the evil science community.”

Ive inserted some pictures of things. I am failing at this game. I wonder if i am an alien that had my memory wiped in order to live on earth. Or i am trapped in a game i dont remember signing up for. There is also a military glove. A card from my grandpa that says congrats on my excellent report card. My neighbor who used to be my close friend saying happy 8th birthday and 3 native american dancing cards. What if i am really from the ocean and came up, like the picture the kid from safekey drew for me. I am like Nina in OA communicating with the octopus. That show was for me. This life is for me and i dont understand why or what the other characters who know but dont tell mean. I don’t understand if this is my only time I get to experience this “all for me” thing. I fear I could turn into a kid again with my memory wiped. If i have to be a kid i want to be a boy, today I went into a boba shop as i was walking i saw a car that said “rest in peace myy son in huge letters on the window with american flag skulls and a picutre of the boy.” i thought i was the boy and i got upset because I know its because I am doing things like eating boba but I just can’t balance my inner childs needs for safety fun and happy gay kind of stuff and the need for truth and seriousness of the situation. Its like i am playing “Hell II Adopt a Soul”. Anyway i want to be a boy because it seems like the game is easier to play and theres less threats for knowing things. The coins are from this coin jar ive had in my room for ages. One of my exs I, he broke into my house well in through the garage and took half of it drove my moms car to the coinstar left the reciept in it while my family and i were visiting my grandpa and a space mueseum in california. My uncle T, he tweeted “met my wife at a coinstar” theres a coin purse from his ex gf J in a drawer. The only movie I have ever seen with him is the corpse bride. His ex name means Supplanter or replaces thing of lesser value. Men literally get to replace their girl bot thing of lesser value with a new program? Not happening. I need something else.

I had a dream 2 nights ago with M and I. He was in the next room where my brother is. I was justifying why i was here, i must be god level to be here yadayada. Treasure Island casino was Jerry training. It is the worst one, M was mean. I was God justifying out of fear I guess. Then I woke up to a dog barking super loud. I thought I was being turned into a dog. Last night I had a dream Dr. O my old soc professor I was close with from soc club, who used to say pretty prophetic things I wish I understood then said “I finessed you” with a pencil looking yellow pyramid drawing. I started begging and justifying my worth in my head to try to get basically adopted as a soul or being bc I am very very very scared for my future. I even thought “i’ll work for someone for 6 years.”

I keep smelling this smell that smells like fuel its concerning and I don’t know what it is but it follows me everywhere. My head itches and my shoulders hurt constantly. I am begging the world for relief.

Another movie that is like whats happening to me: Anti Matter (AKA Worm) is a sci-fi noir take on the Alice in Wonderland tale. Ana, an Oxford PhD student, finds herself unable to build new memories following an experiment to generate and travel through a wormhole. The story follows her increasingly desperate efforts to understand what happened, and to find out who – or what – is behind the rising horror in her life.

There was a room in the psych hospital called the anti room a room with nothing plain white walls and two chairs in a room outside of that room. It wasn’t in use until one of the last days i was there a man who was new there crying and yelling while a worker nurse just watched him from the next room with a clipboard. Anti Matter records has music of people in my life it seems and their anti matter selves.

Alpha Gate – i should watch that movie. It doesnt directly have anything to do with me yet i remember singing to myself while driving, i recorded it. Saying “let me be the alpha.” “A particle physicist grieving over the loss of her husband in a car crash travels to a parallel world to find him again, with dire consequences for her family.”

I feel like I am in a coma or in avatar when they put their body in rest to go into a new body in the avatar world. Truman show. “Child legally adopted by a corporation” “on the air unaware”

Some girls were talking about the meaning of oedipus and dantes divine comedy the other day. Dantes comedy talks about the layers of hell and oedipus marrying your mom or dad. I made a youtube video about oedipus. I feel like my conciousness before was not fully controlled by me somehow, i am not even sure if my conciousness now is fully free or if it is being controlled or manipulated by someone else.

“A dimension is a place” i think about all the times I have been in places lately and even if i am in a room all to myself, the words of others in the next rooms sync with me, like they can see me but they can’t or they can right in their minds. Like the first hospital when they knew I peed and said something about me not doing it without affecting them which I didn’t understand. Or when I was changing my clothes at Ls house I was deciding what to wear and getting frustrated and C commented just do what you have to do, ugh and commenting on things I picked. “Life in the fast lane makes you insane” Things were happening so fucking fast that I couldn’t even ask questions especially in the hospital times and at Ls with the bonfire. My parents too. Now I still don’t because I can’t act like I know things without being threatened. Its a nightmare and its lonely pretending to be normal. If something happens like that I would now ask, because things have eternally slowed down a little bit.

[rotten-games]

Gods

Okay so here’s the list. There are more but these are really the only ones who will show up. Save for two others that aren’t mentioned but they aren’t important in terms of any main plot or anything.

Golding – Considered the ‘Father God’ and one of the first to come into being, he is the sun and the stars in the sky as well as the Keeper of the Life Well, which is what the church believes maintains the process of reincarnation. Any other purpose besides is otherwise unknown. Golding is often depicted in art as a man of fire or pure light. He is probably the most prominently worshipped in the pantheon. The biological father to Orana, he is often depicted beside his lover, Lysandr. Sometimes art of him appears to make him out to be a Lion or large cat of some sort with a pelt of fire.

Lysandr – Lysandr is considered to be perhaps the second of the Deities to come into being, and perhaps one of the most derisive Gods in the pantheon. Because, despite his hand in shaping the mortal shells in which all beings walk, he is also considered to be a bad omen if seen walking the material plane. It is said that the day he walks with his creations is the day he takes back what he loaned out. Whether this is superstition or not is not known. There is some speculation that he hates his creations, or at the very least cares little for them. He is also more commonly worshipped by Infernals, or at least the few that have come out of hiding. It is thought that this is because of his important but precarious position in the Pantheon as one of the heads, as well as his similarities to Infernals in some respects. A lesser known attribute is that he’s called the ‘Father of Dragons,’ quite literally. He is often depicted with a missing right arm and a set of large horns atop his head. An alternative depiction of him in art is that he is the ice to Golding’s fire, however, this is a more recent representation.

Pyrrha – Pyrrha is considered the God of the Forest, but the actuality of it is she is the forest itself. Indeed, she is the land and the Mother of the creatures that traverse it, one of the few things she’s proud of that came from her marriage to Lysandr. She is also God of the Hunt, but has been known to show hunters and rangers quite disfavour when she perceives them to be hunting her children to extinction. Moreover, she also became the God of War after her more recent husband, the previous God of War and Strife, was killed at the hands of the Godslayer, and almost disavowed mortals altogether. Were it not for the other Gods, she may have caused the destruction of the world itself. She is the eldest and more hot-tempered of three sisters.

Adeliah – Adeliah is one of the three Gods who preside over the afterlife, for however much of an afterlife there actually is. It would be more accurate to say that she is the one who kills, or expels the souls from their shells. As a whole, she is widely agreed to be the Death God. She largely blames herself for giving her gift of Time to Wykk, as she was the previous Keeper, but ultimately didn’t trust Arior or Ataar to complete their work to the best of their abilities and wanted to dedicate her time to maintaining the Cycle of Life and Death. She is depicted as an uncaring old woman, and hasn’t been seen on the Material plane since long after she shed her guise of a young woman.

Arior – Arior is known as The Shepherd by the general populace, and indeed this moniker is more commonly used than her name. Though Ataar is her brother, Adeliah is not her mother, nor her sister, or aunt. It is unknown just what the relationship between Adeliah and the other two Death Gods are, but most agree it is not familial, or even friendly in any way. Arior’s job as The Shepherd is to herd the souls of the dead to their final judgement, where her brother will take her place and, well, judge the choices made in their life.

Ataar – Ataar is known as The Judge, and is one of the three Gods of Death. While it is often thought that the presence of a Judge is unnecessary due to the fact that mortals will just get reincarnated regardless, there have, in fact, been instances in history where particularly repulsive people have had their souls ‘passed on.’ The Godslayer would be one such individual. For the most part, his job is to lock away memories of previous lives more than actually judge, however, to do so he must look through all the memories of each soul so that he doesn’t make mistakes. As is often the case, however, mistakes are made, but it isn’t often.

Wykk – The Secretkeeper and a Shapechanger, Wykk is the beholder of all the secrets in the world. Their job centres around maintaining a balance between chaos and order, and because of their seemingly unbiased nature in regards to the politics of any given realm, they are often misunderstood. While they are also the Keeper of Time, and seem to live in a state unchanged by such a thing, it is said that to create their Oracles they manipulated it in a way that should not be possible and is generally looked down by the other Deities. Often said to be one of the Gods who most often visits the material plane, Wykk does not have a widely agreed upon appearance. Some think they must take the form of a large bird—a phoenix, perhaps—while others simply depict them as a cloaked figure, completely unknown in appearance. It is wholly possible that it is both. Often those who commit treason or collusion will claim that this God made them do it, but it is unknown whether this is true.

Radhel – The God of romantic love and sibling of Ren, Radhel is perhaps one of the more well-known Gods in the pantheon simply by virtue of his designation. While he does not make people fall in love, he is the entire reason mortals have the capacity to fall in love, however. The story in particular behind this is long and arduous, and has long since been bastardised by time but the ending is virtually the same. His lover dies and he decides to take their form whether they are depicted as masculine or feminine or neither at all. Radhel is said to be the first God to walk the land and have a child, however, there is little evidence of this and it is unknown when the first Godkin was born or to who. He is often depicted as the most juvenile of the Gods, not in appearance but in mannerisms. He seems to be seen as young and optimistic, and perhaps a bit simplistic, but above all, completely caring for others. There is no hateful bone in his body.

Ren – The God of sexual love and the brother of Radhel is the vastly more hot-headed of the two. Most commonly prayed to by those considered outcasts of society or those who have been wronged, Ren is most often represented by a viper. Many of his priests get tattoos to match his own, typically all over their bodies. He is feuding with Orana and dislikes Adeliah, extending that dislike to Ataar and Arior simply by association. For the most part, he is mistrusting of most of the other Gods, however, he was in a brief relationship with Rune and Lysandr’s daughter, Malgwin. Part of the reason he and Orana are feuding after it blew up.

Anathema – Often most associated with famine and pestilence, Anathema and his army of rats and other such pests are considered a terrible omen of mass-death and usually involves cattle mutilation for whatever reason. What is often overlooked about Anathema is that he has two sides. While one is of death and destruction in equal measure, the other is of compassion in hard times, and of the life that springs forth from death. He is a quiet God, one who has little relations with the others, but he seems to care deeply for mortals despite his obligations

Rune – A being of pure element, Rune is often considered the Patron God of witches simply due to their connection to magic. They were the shaper of the earth and is often the cause of natural disasters and other phenomena. Though typically associated with neutrality, their perception by the general populace is varied due to how connected to magic they are and their spawn are a few of the most hated of the Godkin. They are probably one of the few Gods who rarely visit the material plane, and as such there is rarely an issue with such children.

Orana – The Moon Maiden, as she is oft dubbed, presides over the tides and the night sky. Though her father is the creator of all the stars, Orana was the one who placed them on the canvas of the sky. Though she is often considered to be a calm God with eternal love for all who smiles under her light, she has a dark side. She is responsible for all floods, for all tsunamis, and all violent waves. For every child who is graced with her blessing to never be betrayed by her waters, there is a sailor lost to the sea. For she is an orderly being, even if she wishes she wasn’t. She is often depicted as the moon herself, or as a young woman with stars in her eyes and a noble appearance.

On the Great Mothers:

The Great Mothers are considered to be the first beings to exist, that they indeed existed before time, space, and everything, at least on the material plane. There is speculation that they created the material plane as a whole, however, others believe that their children created it as The Mothers had nothing to do with the creation of the world. They are called the Great Mothers, because they ‘birthed’ the current Gods and it is widely accepted that they all worked together to create them. There was a total of seven Mothers, each with vastly different appearances and skills, but it is said that they all loved one another equally. After they created their children Gods, and their children Gods created the land, they disappeared, never to be seen again.

There is one theory that they fell into an eternal slumber upon the Earth, and this theory makes up a large part of what the Elves typically believe. Often, you will find elves worshipping at large, mystical trees, or other such magical landmarks with no discernible power source, and they believe that these landmarks are where the Great Mothers finally rest and that one day they will rise. This can neither be proven or disproven at this stage, any excavation will more than likely result in war.

[deereelis]

RE-CALIBRATING...

Written June 11, 2019

Transcript:

Good Morning sunshines, thank you all for being here today.  I’d like to start by acknowledging all of you for being here at this moment, friends, family, colleagues, ex-boyfriends, ex-PO’s, teachers, my esteemed spirit community but most importantly... my long lists of partners in crime.  My partner whom I share with spirit, my other partner who I share with in love, My other partner whom I share with in laughter, my other partner whom I share with in art and my favorite partner of all:  the one whom we shared a body: my seed, my love my utter joy, my mini-goddess... mi hija.

I invited you all here today because I’ve got a little bit of bad news & rather than go and send this many individual text messages, I decided to do it the ‘old-fashioned way’ & make a video on you tube.   

Speech: I gathered you all here today to hold myself accountable and apologize to all the men & women I’ve disappointed.  I recognize that I have not been the easiest person to deal with and for that, I am sorry.  I also recognize that sometimes my snarky remarks, smug face, and my ability to lift your mistakes and downplay my errors can be provoking.  Maybe those provocations have led to you wishing bad things for me, saying mean things to me and hoping I would disappear.  Maybe you tried to make me disappear, maybe you threatened me, poked me, put yours hands on me, raised your voice, maybe you tried to smear me.  Or maybe, you just didn’t say anything when you saw others express meanness toward me.  Either way, I wanted to apologize to all of you whom I triggered or offended to the point that you felt uncomfortable.

I accompany your sentiment of discomfort.  I too feel extremely uneasy that I exist in a world where we could treat one another so poorly.  I have been treated like crap and I have treated others like crap and I regret it, I do.  I am by far not a saint, though every day I try to be better than the day before. My life has given me the most unique of perspectives & I’ve learned to embrace them all.  Every memory has contributed to the person that I am and who I strive to be and for that I am eternally grateful.  The ability to have such vast life experiences that it allows you to connect with people genuinely through love is one of the many blessings of my life. It’s been a long journey and I still have a ways to go. As a child, I chuckled when I saw 2 men kiss; because that's what I knew to be humor.  These days, I feel ‘love’... so deeply inside... it overcomes what the eyes can see and what the mind perceives.  Sometimes I roll my eyes or make fun of people when they say foolish things, because that’s what I know to be humor; but I want to work on my humor not being at the expense of possibly shaming an individual.  Though shame can build character,  it’s not my place to build outside of my temple.  

I want to free my mind of colonialism.

I want to be in the business of building others and not contribute to their stress.  If my humor comes at the expense of picking another apart or using my words as venom to your spirit; no lifting can occur if I am pulling you down.  

I want to free my mind of colonialism.

Far from perfect as I am, I live in a home where individuality and creativity is encouraged.  I come from a long, deep lineage of strong Puerto Rican matriarchs & the warriors that lift us. In my community we hold up our men and our men hold us up.  I have been lifted and supported through the grimiest seasons, by the most masculine of gods. 

I try not to make plans too far in advance, because while I may enjoy drinking wine & sitting by a fire right now; in a couple of weeks I may not want to toxify my liver and would rather meditate by a lake.  I am constantly changing, and more times than not- am barely recognizable, even to myself.

As many know, I ran for local office for the first time in 2015, because I was tired of challenging a non-inclusive system whose representatives didn’t feel they needed to respond to people like me.  So I ran and I won. It’s been an amazing run and there’s nothing I love more than being able to sit at decision-making tables on behalf of folks who don’t typically have a voice: (My identities: disabled, woman, MOM, less-affluent, of Puerto-Rican heritage, reformed hood-rat, Goddess, Artist)

But the truth is, the system needs WD-40 because it is rusty and it has creaky ankles.  This structure is set with such rigidity that any attempt to change anything would create such a significant shift in a cycle that’s perpetuated convenient chaos for years.  I have had many heated one-sided conversations with humans of the male persuasion who believed that disagreeing on a vote was grounds to threaten, disrespect, or slander another.  (Let’s hold this thought)

For the past few years, I have been on a spiritual journey that has intensified deeply in the past few months. Everything I’ve known to be true and my life as I knew it, was no longer.  It wasn’t that I stopped loving those whom I’d chosen to build a life with.  It was that, the way I was showing up for them, wasn't conducive with my best self (or who I believe her to be).  In fact, recognizing that lacking self-love for so many years, created a falsehood of sorts, I had to re-evaluate EVERYTHING.  How could I fully love my husband, if I hadn’t learned how to love me yet?  What was I teaching my daughter about what love and relationships are through my actions?  How could I ensure that my judgmental or critique didn’t make her self-aware or insecure?  How can I create space for her to be her fullest self without inflicting my conditions? How can I be a better daughter, sister, mentor- without being a better individual, first?  How could I fix my life when I’m so stuck in the hamster wheel of cycle of life to stop & actually fix it?

So I worked at being better.  I woke up early to watch sunrises, sunsets, I’ve written, I’ve meditated, traveled, spent time in nature, be mindful of how I eat, reading, called old friends, spoke my truths, participated in ceremony and began to exhibit this beautiful thing called unconditional love within friends and friends of friends. Through this healing community of love,  I made new connections with people with similar interests. The question remained, how do I maintain these newfound relationships when I still haven’t figured out how to maintain my nucleus, myself? And who was she anyway?  (Let’s hold this thought)

I’ve been in conversation with friends where we project our insecurities onto each other.  You accept it because as the more ‘enlightened one’ you see the bigger picture and respect their process?  When family begins to ‘judge’ you; ‘resent’ you; and loved ones want to attempt to ‘compete’ with you; you tolerate it because you know that they must be going through something and it will eventually work itself out. When people who were once supporters begin to attack you, and ‘agreeing to disagree’ is no longer a viable option, but you accept it because you accept it as part of the ‘game’ you signed up for.  (Let’s hold this thought) 

When death, abuse, disease and long held traumas begin to peer their ugly heads to remind you of your limited time on this plane. When you see loved ones suffering, homeless, sick, dying, abused, children left with no parents.  When you know your love is vast but your resources aren’t.  When you stretch yourself so thin that you no longer respond to emails, phone calls at the pace you once did.  There were activities that I once was so excited for that no longer resonate for me, because of my constant evolution.  It seemed like a great idea in January, but NO, I am no longer interested in going to that concert.  Yes, the book seemed like a great idea a month ago, but I rather read something pertaining to astrology or genetically modified foods.  I am a constant, ever-changing soul that has found her way and unfortunately it is NOT the way in which people know or remember me. I am not sorry for what this loss means for you. For to know me is to know how I’ve struggled and to know those struggles, only an enemy couldn’t find joy in my growth.

You see, I am holding myself to a higher standard.  I want to ALWAYS see the humanity in folks and am committed to treating everyone I come in contact with, with full-respect and honesty.  Mainly, because as long as your heart beats, you remain a wonder and worthy of love.  As a steward of love, I accept that calling..  I don’t ask for ANYTHING in return, except mutual respect..

This means that those games of ‘playing victim’ to make me feel bad, the little jabs you take to send a message when you refuse to ‘use your words’ to communicate, those blatant calls and texts of mine you ignore, the ways in which you feel it’s okay to touch me when you’re upset, lie about me, spread rumors about me, threaten me; if it isn’t centered in love & growth; I NO LONGER speak that language. So you can go fly a kite and go fu&k yourself with all that negative self-talk. I can’t keep holding space for all those thoughts without it depleting me.

You see, with all due respect: colleagues, family, friends, husband, daughter, soul mates: we all have a lot of work to do.  I won’t ever sit here and pretend to be healed because I’ve got a long way to go before I even scratch the surface of progress.  But, I can recognize that I haven’t been living up to the standard in which I know I’m capable of and want to strive to be better.  You can come with me for the ride of growth or you can stay where we’ve been.  I will love you anyway, but for me- settling in the same ol’ same ol’ is NO LONGER a path I’m willing to travel.  I want to be better.  I will be better.  I don’t mean better THAN you, I mean better than I have been to myself and to others.

I scheduled a trip for my spirit in the first week in July where I’ll be traveling alone to New Orleans.  While down there, I will be attending a concert of soul music and only invited my best friends for the concert ONLY.  The rest of the week is to nurture my soul, sit with myself and just be.  I have a lot of releasing to do of the many ways I’ve absorbed other people’s toxic behaviors towards me and in the ways I’ve internalized and perpetuated those vicious cycles. I also have a lot of forgiving to do: of myself & those who’ve demonstrated remorse.

Being a City Councilor while on this spiritual path has been the most exhausting time of my life.  Holding space for others  and not having a place to release those holdings has been tiring.  Having people tell me I’m a diamond, yet ignore and disregard me like rubbish, is brutal.  But what is even more brutal than someone who dares mistreat the Goddess is that their view of whether  I am rubbish or a diamond are irrelevant; what matters is that I KNOW I’m a diamond & never settle for less-than diamond treatment.

This diamond has been in the rough & as she buffs herself to shine; she hopes you do the same.  So we can all shine together.

For those that feel discomfort of my shine; it isn’t your decision to make.

Blessed be, beloveds.

[real-fakedoors]

You must have gotten this question a lot but... how did you get the idea for star-crossed? And how’d you develop the world? I was really inspired by how you detailed your story to create such an amazing image for us readers of the world; especially when it got down to politics, the watches, characterizations and the planets-turned-countries. I’m currently writing (or trying to write) a book of my own, and I’ve been struggling with how to incorporate those kind of details. Do you have any advice?

hello & thank you for the ask! what a wonderful question, and an even more glowing compliment!! my heart is so full :,)

it’s a mixture of a few things, and I’m happy to break it down further if you’d like, but allow me to lay out my basic approach to writing in general & this fic specifically. I’ll try to address each question the best I can!

1. Ideas born from ideas

Music - I’m one of those people who draw on other sources of inspiration – especially music. All three of my most popular stories were at least first thought of by songs. (star-crossed was inspired by Constellations by The Oh Hellos).

Reference material/research - I’ve tried to be as explicit as possible in star-crossed when I describe/utilize the design of another creator for the basis of my work (like all of Lance’s pretty outfits), but in general, having reference material is the MOST IMPORTANT thing. I’ve done a ton of research on medieval culture, cuisine, buildings, and courts. A good example of this is from Chapter 16: The Prisoner’s Dilemma, I had no freakin’ idea how to describe a battlement, or what that even was – hence me googling “what is the top of a castle wall called” > they’re called battlements, got it! > google image, battelments 

There, I found this:

and from that, I wrote this:

Quietly, they climbed until the highest reaches opened around them, a large plane of dark stone, stained by ombre rust to near-black on opposing ends of the terrace. A very small amount of snow had gathered, but most of it had blown away in the wind –  some small catches had gathered in pockets of shade, where the perimeter wall was buttressed by columns of scaffolding that each came to a point. They were massive structures, like stone arrows pointing towards the heavens; vaguely, Lance remembered one of his mother’s stories about a fletcher’s workshop for the gods; the sweep magnificence of the architecture, certainly lent itself to a sense of the divine and otherworldly greatness.

Linear plot - In terms of figuring out what I want to accomplish in the story, and in the chapters, I quite literally depend on my notes. I tend to get over-eager and want to do a lot in one chapter, so I force myself to map things out in accordance to time rather than events, and that helps me maintain something of a regular pace.

There are a few things I knew I had to have happen in the story, and some of it filled in naturally as I began writing. Here’s a picture of my office from the week I began writing star-crossed.

(the text on the sticky notes doesn’t really matter; but pink are plot points and yellow are narrative themes)

If you squint – an example – Tuesday was supposed to be the day of the bombing, originally. All of the tension and build up and worries about the murder plot were never actually going to happen, as it was going to be wrong-place/wrong-time as a bomb went off in the city. Lance was always intended to get caught up in it instead of Keith as the target, but that obviously didn’t end up happening.

Why? As I wrote the beginning chapters, I had to remind myself that Keith is the Prince of Marmora, of which their expertise is spy networks and information. It didn’t seem feasible to me that such a large scale attack could occur in Marmora without the Blade knowing about it, which is why the attention ended up shifting towards the ball specifically.

Prompts - I am also of the belief that there is no reason to reinvent the wheel. There are wonderful, wonderful authors and writers out there who generate material specifically designed to help writers kickstart ideas; I collected a huge Google Doc of these when I first started star-crossed just to keep my head in accordance with the right themes. Rarely do I use a prompt word-for-word because they never really fit exactly what I’m writing, but the tone of the language often helps me in moments when I’m stuck. Here’s a sampling (and I am sorry, I didn’t think to mark the original blogs I took these from:

“The world was in flames. People were in need of laughter.”

“The world was in flames” helped me to derive some of the terrible disaster that came on the third night of the ball. I just really like that visual, so much orange and red light, and the unbearable heat.

“You can feel the world blooming and withering around you while you’re in prison.”

This sort of… live-and-die, questioning mortality thing, while in “prison” helped me to build Lance’s internal monologue while he was in the cellar.

“If I ignored destiny, so can you.”

Because Klance.

“I was waiting for a chance to ask you to dance with me, but you were gone.”

A knife-twist of how, though this was loosely inspired by the premise of Cinderella, Keith only got to ask Lance to dance twice over the course of three days – in part because Lance was always gone or with someone else, but also because Keith was equally tied up in the expectation that he was to dance with anyone who asked him.

The watches - That was my hope of tying in the paladin’s bayard. It was theoretically impossible to have a magical weapon appear in the hands of four teenagers and an adult without it raising many conspicuous questions, so I needed something a little more subtle. There’s still some… [redacted] about time that has to [redacted] before [redacted] can [redacted], so I can’t say much more than that. :,)

Pomp, Circumstance & Politics (oh my!) - okay, sorry, I couldn’t resist. heh. but, yeah, I don’t know if I can point to one specific thing in particular that gave rise to the political quagmire of this story. It’s definitely been inspired by an array of existing media – Downton Abbey certainly helped shape the “upper class” vs. “lower class” treatment. I also really enjoy historical readings. fiction or nonfiction, pertaining to wars: Ken Burn’s Vietnam War, for instance, helped remind me of the massive impact the decisions of few can have on the many. Whether or not you support a war, or a policy in Marmora’s case, can have devastating after-effects for the people beneath you. Keith and Krolia happen to be very conscious of this. But even so, there will always be a level of detachment from their view of the “many” (in which Lance, Hunk and Pidge fall), and this is never so apparent as when things are told from Lance’s POV. He’s just another person. He’s just one person. One of the hundred of thousands that would be effected by the daily decisions of Keith or Krolia, and it is that constant tension between “big picture” and “small picture” that I try to draw out in the on-going struggles had by the characters.

2. For me, the character’s are the world. 

That’s not me being poetic or anything – let me explain.

Imagine this: Suppose there is a person who has been devoid of all of their senses, all of their life – no touch, no smell, no hearing – nothing. Then suppose, one day, they are shaken from this catatonic state for the first time. Their senses now free, how would they experience this scene I am writing? What is so prevailing to the senses that it demands to be included in the narrative?

That is how I write my my worlds, at least descriptively. I try to pick out a few key things someone wouldn’t be able to help but notice.

This is great for characterization, too, because I can tweak the premise of the “feelingless individual” to suit how I imagine my characters. 

Keith, for example, from star-crossed – a few things I keep in mind when writing him: he is constantly frustrated by his inability to act on his impulses, so when he does it is extra satisfying. He’s keenly aware of the mannerism of others because of his upbringing in the court – if they have a weapon on their hip, for instance, is something he would notice in a heartbeat.

There were certain ticks to look for in a person trying to get too close: the ways their eyes moved, where their hands sat, what sort of clothing they wore. Was it something trim and fitted to make for an easy escape, or something bulky with a dozen pockets to hide any manner of weapon? Were those chemical burns on their hands from working with unstable materials? Did they look restless, liked they’d been up all night debating with themselves to go through with such a monumental act?

Maybe it was just learned paranoia, but these were the small enough traits that most people wouldn’t notice.

Keith, however, was trained to notice.

Lance, on the other hand, is a little more indulgent but easily overwhelmed; he has been restricted his whole life, so he indulges often and easily, but that puts him in a vulnerable position that can (and has) left him open to being hurt by the world around him. He’s one who is going to notice the weather, the quality of the air, because those were things that held meaning to him when he lived in the mountains – he’s one to fixate on his own mistakes, because he’s used to them being pointed out to him.

Lotor wanted to take off his mask so it was one less thing getting in the way, an obstruction to peeling back Lance’s sense of self, his ideas and interests and beliefs balled up in and thrown in a bin, along with his name and his past, so that he could be some fucked up little prize for the guy’s own enjoyment.

The fucking betrayal of his own body, too. The flushed cheeks, the friction of his hips over Lotor’s… ugh. It wasn’t —  he didn’t want it, it didn’t feel good, but the physical sensation was demanding and his body literally could not do anything but respond, and the memory of that alone was enough to have him clutching his head between his knees, legs drawn up to his chest.

Why was this so confusing? It shouldn’t be, and that only made Lance more frustrated. Lotor was a selfish asshole who tried to use his title to his advantage and force Lance to do things he didn’t want to do. Lance had even succeeded in pushing him away and standing up for himself, but the triumph was bittersweet.

This mindset was especially critical when writing Chapter 14: Twenty-Six Hours, because it was the first time we delved into the consciousnesses of the other characters! (I’m just really happy with the way that one turned out *sob*)

Also, a note on villany: I really dislike one dimensional villains. I prefer when my evil comes with a healthy dose of “fuck I sort of agree with that… to an extent?”

Which is why writing Lotor’s big monologue in Chapter 16: The Prisoner’s Dileema was such a challenge. I had to make his treatment of Lance seem, in some fucked up version of reality, justifiable. Because really, Lotor is a product of circumstance; he was raised with his beliefs of the poor and especially of someone of Lance’s “status,” and was acting in such a way that reflected that up-bringing. Now, Keith was raised in similar circumstances and isn’t a huge piece of shit, so there’s no excuse for Lotor’s behavior – but it’s at least logical. You can imagine buying an ox that’s for sale at the market, and then using said ox to plow your fields; we don’t see that as cruel or as mistreatment. Lotor sees Lance as little more than that, and so, in giving him lots of attention and “validation” (something that we know canon-Lotor was unfortunately lacking), it stands to reason that he was in fact trying to be kind to Lance, to treat him with a warped sense of respect.

…okay, that’s all for now! I really hope this helps and wasn’t too long-winded, like everything I do. you’ve effectively made my morning, anon, and I hope you have a wonderful day. my best wishes and luck to you while writing you story! 

[gwimulchorom]

刹那の間に　痛みに似た恋が体を走ったんだ

"I am apparently now headed to the Growling Groghouse. It seems Durnan had suspicions and has now vanished within its midst, and I suppose the man's obsessions has finally spelt the end of him. Though, his friend seems to have something up his sleeve- I worry for this man's plan, considering how improbable it seems all things considered. I am unenthused and now very worried for this improbable course of events. Apparently losing in bowling incurs such an incredible penalty. We will see what occurs next."

“Time ticks past all of us, but it will always, inevitably speak for us. If I must spend a year and a day in this bowling alley in a stuffy disguise, so be it, but I know I am not alone. As erratic and strange the mage is, I do feel pity for the man for his need for so many people around him in a feeble attempt to feel included in a community, even despite the fact that he apparently owns the alley and beyond this place. It does make me slightly introspective though, being forced to interact once more with faceless, featureless beings that serve no value in my existence. 

It was always the same- my soldiers were but faceless, featureless cannon fodder I pushed out into the battlefield to die for my own selfish purposes. Working in this alley, with nary a notion of the identities of others and their powers has always been an experience. I would know how it would be like to be forced in a role I disliked, even the job I had held down before was one that I had never wanted to be a part of. Surprisingly, outside the prying eyes of the gods above, I felt free in this premise, working to earn my own keep and letting time pass as per normal than rushing an ultimatum I knew would never come for me. 

There was, of course, minor joy in finding one of our own eager to yield the benefits of the rewards he had received. Occasionally, he would ring a bell of his he had and several other slaves had to drop whatever they had on their hands to start an impromptu performance, compelled by the noise the bell made to entertain him. It at least meant some of us could continue while accompanied by beautiful music, much to the chagrin of those forced to perform. Of course, the mage that owned this place was definitely much more pleased by this development and knowledge of his item than anyone else in the alley would ever feel about this certain bell-owning slave, not that he let up too much about it. Despite the seeming insanity that had taken hold of his mind, from how he maintained the place he was still a skilled mage, and I developed a grudging respect about the entire joint at some point. 

It was interesting to watch people who were not afflicted with a form of madness choose instead to not save themselves.

As much as I would expand on my entry, I find that writing about a year and a day here truly unexciting. A routine is a routine after all- at some point, the mind molds and adapts itself to the process, and thus leaves no room for argument or dissent in the mind. If anything, the experience suddenly becomes fantastic insight of the mind of an adventurer, faceless as they are, and how much of such mundane, yet insidious torture they can take until they finally crack. 

Without anything to fixate on, and a permanent uniform branding us as one of “his own”, however, it didn’t take too long for others to start to crumble mentally as the boredom of repetition and aura of insanity began creeping in. In times like this, it struck me as amusingly bizarre how many people seemed to just give up around me, their motions growing increasingly listless until they seemed to grow inert, as though they had finally given out and refused to be subjugated any further. I laughed internally instead, even as my own despair weighed permanently upon me. 

Even when you converse with another, you recoil seeing the face of your current self in theirs, and with everyone else that roams the alley on their own. With spiritual faith, I could keep myself perfectly sane despite the lack of social contact, but with the same humdrum sequence repeating itself over and over, one could not help but sink into the inevitable feeling of deja vu. 

I may have been physically bound to this plane of existence, but my mind remains wandering across realms, as it had been since my first death on the battlefield. Laying myself on the floor of the alley to rest was the same as if I were to lay myself onto the shattered tiles of the shrine to the Great Guide I had created. Vaguely, in the deepest recesses of my mind, I had wondered if my past self, the general, would have felt this resigned to their own fate if they had been aware of this. 

My dreams after working myself to the bone were soulless, as always, empty fields and dark landscapes while I strode in my true form across the realm on foot. While I derived twisted pleasure and revelled in those who had cracked before I did, my own mind was perfectly still, with no intention to move forward or equipped with any capacity to imagine a life beyond the one of servitude I already had prior to my appointment. It was the least I could do after my resurrection, serving the Great Guide and bringing Him the souls of the departed in an act of redeeming myself. The rest around me were but collateral damage that had made their own mistakes, and I could not save them, especially when I myself had as little rights as they did. 

Throughout my life, I had never lost until Lyncas appeared. A thorn in my side to the bitter end, he bested me in all I did while making me fully aware that he had been holding back. Even when he returned to life as Haewonmak, a cruel trick of fate to torture my immortal soul further, he continued to be superior in every aspect, which he masked behind jokes and facades of imbecility. This to me was my second loss- a narrow one, and needless to say a blow to my pride after a string of unfortunate events along with an utter slap to my face. I stewed at first, bitter at being shackled here, but truly, after experiencing the depths of the Nine Hells, was anything really about to faze me at that point? As always, I triumphed fate, whether I liked it or not. 

I wished to rest eternally- even that, I found, was denied from me, for my sin was too great. 

The mage, of course, too had his problems. He was not always around to supervise us, leaving and returning and fickle in his demands. Even while we were cleaning, I picked up snippets of his ramblings, and most of them were not as nonsensical as others dismissed them to be- he had actually been discussing an invasion of adventurers to his domain, not just within the Groghouse but beyond, and I had heard one of the people he had seen was a child with a longbow that also bore the symbol of the Great Guide. 

It couldn’t have been a coincidence with him scrying on all of us even before we entered this place. He had seen Deokchoon, and I worried for the child. I may have been the one to kill her- but she was still a child even after her resurrection. While I kept quiet, all but one of his many “selves” in the alley, I kept tabs on this development and silently prayed to the Great Guide to rescue her whenever He was able. She didn’t deserve my fate or the inevitable insanity she would experience delving down there. 

I couldn’t allow that. 

I wouldn't. 

Biding my time enough saw me finally finish my term and be allowed to leave the domain. With this, I beat a hasty retreat, once again returning to Fort Dalton and tending to the once-again abandoned shrine to the Great Guide while seeking penance for being unable to make my offerings to Him. Despite this, the knowledge that Deokchoon was still out there, in the hands of the Mad Mage weighed heavily upon my mind, and I greatly debated if I should demand for her when I grew stronger. 

Even if I had denied it, both Deokchoon and Haewonmak were my charges. I couldn’t allow either of them to die under my watch. I had to figure out a method to rescue her, even if I knew there were many children with longbows that may sport the holy symbol of the Great Guide that may be amok in the dungeon. If she was amongst a sea of them, I would still be able to pick her out instantly, and I knew I had to, bound to them both as I was. 

The first thing I had to do was to then escape my own mind, reorienting myself to be able to progress forward. I had already lost some time, and she may or may not have escaped by then. I had no idea what I would expect from there- but I had to try...or die once again trying to do so.”

@oh-god-shes-back

@zomandfriends for excessive Gangrim-related complaining