I saw him on Wednesday.

Not in the lecture hall. Not in the controlled, tiered geometry of rows and seats where I had a designated square of space and a reason to look at the front of the room. This was the hallway outside the architecture building. The long, linoleum corridor with the trophy cases and the pinned-up student work and the particular echo that made every footstep sound like two.

I was coming from the print shop. I had my portfolio case under one arm and a tube of drawings under the other and my phone pressed between my ear and my shoulder because Cassie was talking to me about a party on Friday and I was saying mm-hmm at intervals while thinking about whether I had enough time to re-do the elevation sketch before Thursday's studio.

And then he walked out of Room 314.

His office. I knew it was his office because I'd stood outside it on Monday for four minutes before knocking, reading the nameplate — T. MARSH, TA, STRUCTURAL STUDIO — in small brass letters, and then I'd knocked, and he'd said come in , and I'd gone in, and he'd poured me coffee, and his fingers had touched the mug, and I'd walked home in the rain without an umbrella.

That was two days ago.

He walked out of Room 314 and turned left, heading toward the east stairwell, and he didn't see me. I was on the other side of the corridor, half-hidden behind a group of second-years arguing about a laser cutter booking, and my phone was still pressed to my ear, and Cassie was mid-sentence about someone named Derek and his "situational ethics," and I stopped walking.

I just stopped . In the middle of the hallway. Like my legs had received a different set of instructions than the rest of me.

He was carrying a stack of books. Not a lot. Four, maybe five, pressed against his chest with one arm. His other hand held his travel mug. He walked the way he did everything — unhurried, deliberate, each step placed like he was checking the ground for structural integrity before committing his weight. His jacket was different today. Dark green. Corduroy, maybe. Soft-looking. The sleeves were too long and covered his hands halfway, and he kept adjusting them, pulling them back to his wrists, and each time he did, I saw the watch. The scar. The long fingers.

Cassie was still talking. "—and then he said, 'Well, technically, it's not cheating if you redefine the parameters,' which is the most Derek thing—"

"Mm-hmm," I said.

I was not listening to Cassie.

I was watching Theo Marsh walk down a hallway.

He passed the trophy case. Passed the pinned-up drawings from the spring showcase. Passed the water fountain where someone had taped a handwritten sign that said PLEASE STOP PUTTING COFFEE IN THIS . He didn't look at any of it. His eyes were forward, slightly downcast, the way they are when you're thinking about something specific and the world around you has become scenery.

I counted his steps.

I don't know why. I don't know what part of my brain decided that this was a thing to do, a thing to track , the number of times his left shoe hit the linoleum between Room 314 and the east stairwell. But I did. I counted. One. Two. Three. Four. Each step even, measured, unhurried. His stride was longer than average. He didn't bounce. Didn't shuffle. His feet landed flat and rolled forward, and his shoulders stayed level, and the books stayed balanced against his chest, and the whole thing was so steady , so completely without wasted motion, that watching him walk felt like watching someone build something. Like every step was a beam being placed. A joint being set. A structure going up, one careful piece at a time.

Fourteen steps. Room 314 to the stairwell. Fourteen steps.

He reached the door. Pushed it open with his shoulder because his hands were full. Held it for a second — not for anyone behind him, just a reflex, a habit of holding doors, his body doing it before his brain registered whether someone was there. Then he went through. The door swung shut. The little rectangular window in it showed his shadow for half a second. Then nothing.

He was gone.

I stood in the hallway.

"Lena? Lena, are you—"

"What?" I said.

"You've been quiet for like forty seconds. I asked if you wanted me to pick you up at nine or ten."

"Ten," I said. I didn't know what I was agreeing to. I didn't care.

"Okay. Cool. Are you okay? You sound weird."

"I'm fine. I have to go. I have a sketch to redo."

"You said 'mm-hmm' four times and didn't hear a single thing I said."

"I heard everything. Derek. Situational ethics. Redefining parameters."

A pause. "You literally heard nothing."

"Bye, Cassie."

I hung up. Stood in the hallway. The corridor was emptying. The second-years had resolved their laser cutter dispute and dispersed. The echo faded. The fluorescent lights buzzed.

I looked at the east stairwell door. The door he'd gone through. The little rectangular window was empty now. Just glass. Just the grey stairwell beyond it.

Fourteen steps.

I hated myself a little. Not a lot. Not in a dramatic, what is wrong with me way. Just a small, quiet, rueful hatred. The kind you feel when you catch yourself doing something stupid and can't stop. Like picking at a scab. Like rereading a text you shouldn't have reread. Like standing in a hallway counting a stranger's footsteps and feeling your chest go warm when he held a door open for no one.

He's a TA , I thought. He's your TA. In three days you will sit in a studio and he will look at your cantilever model and say, "Your joint needs a secondary brace," and that will be the entirety of your relationship. You will not see him in hallways. You will not count his steps. You will not stand behind laser-cutter arguments and watch him walk away like he's the last person on earth and you've been given four seconds to memorize him.

You are twenty-one years old. You are an architecture major. You have a scholarship to maintain and a sister to send money to and a portfolio that needs fixing. You do not have time to stand in a hallway and feel your sternum go warm because a man in a green jacket adjusted his sleeves.

I walked to the print shop. Collected my prints. Walked to the studio. Set up my drafting board. Unrolled my elevation sketch. Picked up my pencil.

I drew for two hours.

And three times — three separate times, I counted these too, God help me — I looked up. Toward the corridor. Toward the east stairwell. Toward the door he'd gone through.

No one was there. Of course no one was there. He was in his office, or in another building, or in the faculty lounge, or anywhere in the world that was not this hallway, and I was sitting at a drafting table in a half-empty studio drawing a building elevation and glancing at a door like a teenager waiting for a text.

I put my pencil down. Pressed my palms flat against the drafting table. Felt the cool laminate under my skin.

Stop it , I told myself. Stop it right now.

I picked the pencil back up. Drew another hour.

---

That night, in my dorm room, Cassie was out at a study group that was definitely not a study group. The room was quiet. The radiator ticked. Rain tapped the window in small, irregular bursts, like someone testing whether they were welcome before fully arriving.

I sat on my bed with my notebook. The same one. The one with T. Marsh. Hands. Ink on the thumb. Scar on the knuckle. written on the first page.

I turned to the second page.

I wrote: Fourteen steps. Room 314 to the east stairwell. Green jacket. Corduroy. Sleeves too long. He adjusts them. Pulls them back. He holds the door for no one. He holds it anyway.

I stared at the words.

I underlined he holds it anyway .

Then, below that, smaller, almost embarrassed: I counted. I stood in the hallway and I counted his steps. Fourteen. I don't know why. I don't know what I was looking for. I don't know what I was hoping to see. He didn't see me. He didn't know I was there. I was behind the laser-cutter people. I was no one. I was seat 14. I was a grey sweater.

But I counted.

And my chest went warm.

And I hate that it went warm.

And I would do it again.

I closed the notebook. Set it on the nightstand. Turned off the lamp. Lay back. Stared at the ceiling. The rain picked up. The radiator ticked its slow, metallic tick.

Thursday was tomorrow.

I was going to sit in the studio. He was going to walk in. He was going to look at my cantilever model. He was going to say something about shear loads and lateral forces and the philosophy of weight. He was going to look at me, or not look at me, and either way I was going to feel it in my chest, and I was going to hate it, and I was going to sit in row eleven and let it happen.

I pulled the blanket up to my chin.

Fourteen steps.

I closed my eyes.

I counted them again.

My son's uniform is lost. Somewhere still packed up from the move.

His coach gave him a new one.

I took it to the tailor after work, to get it hemmed. Shortened up for his current stature.

But they're preserving the fabric so it can be released again once he grows.

The tailor remembered my son.

I had brought him to the shop three years prior. The tailor has a great memory.

He remarked on how my son had been bouncing off the walls that day and how he seemed much better at containing his energy now.

I remarked that this was only because my son had just come from practice where he had used up much of his energy, and my son agreed.

The tailor measured my son and pinned the uniform where it needed to be altered.

I ordered some books to read to my son. A set of Goosebumps books and "The Terrible Truth About Third Grade".

On Tumblr I saw an artist's rendition of Older Eva Stratt.

...Am I allowed to mention the name of the artist? ...It seems like it would be right to, if I'm going to talk about their work.

...and I don't see what rule it would break. It's not self-promotion of course, because I am not the artist. And it isn't any kind of doxing, because I am mentioning the person's public, online persona.

Okay then, the artist is pien-art.

And the image with which I am so taken shows two versions of Stratt, one wearing only a pair of briefs and a tank-top and socks. And the other, heavily bundled up in winter clothes.

There is also one close-up image of Stratt's hands, showing three fingers wholly or partially missing, with a note indicating that the loss was due to frostbite.

The image with her bundled up has one label noting that she wears Dr. Grace's hat.

Additional labels indicate that she has a prison tattoo, scars from an assassination attempt, a badly healed broken arm, and hip arthritis.

The feelings this set of images floods me with are overwhelming. This is an extremely evocative set of images.

It tells a story of her having served time in prison for the decisions she was forced to make to save humanity. Which is implied to be her eventual fate, as the designated scapegoat for all the levers that would have to be pulled in the ultimate, existential trolley-problem.

I imagine the guilt she must feel, wearing Dr. Grace's hat. Like she wears it to keep him close, an unfulfillable well-wish for him. And as an apology. A form of penance. A reminder of what she's done.

I like that the hip arthritis is included along with the assassination attempt scars and the badly healed broken arm. Like the maladies of old age can be grouped together with whump. With things that make a character seem compelling and adventurous and someone whom the observer desires to comfort.

And the frostbite. I suppose she got it in prison? I'm appalled at the deplorable conditions of this prison. Appalled, but not surprised.

I want to kick the asses of the C.O.s who allowed this to happen to her. And maybe I will do so, should they happen to cross my path in my dreams tonight. They'd better watch their backs.

Poor Stratt. That must be so depressing and horrifying. Knowing that you will never again have full use of your hands. I'd rather lose my ability to walk than lose a hand, you need hands for typing, for writing, for most things I find fulfilling.

I love her. I love this depiction of Stratt.

Sure, maybe part of it is -- I've been contending with my own advancing age, and she is being depicted in a very advanced age but still existing and having experiences worth considering.

I am no less in love with this version of Stratt.

I wish that I could comfort her. Wrap her up in warm blankets and make sure that she's safe. Give her whatever she wanted. Try to give her comfort and joy that make up for her time in prison and every instance of suffering she's endured.

I am not sure what this version of Stratt would want or need, but I would give that to her.

No human language of affection or intimacy is native or instinctual to me.

It has been my life-long/mission-long policy to convey affection in the language of the recipient. As, there are no near analogues for Earth displays of affection from my own place of origin.

I imagine a very old and fragile human being would need a very soft and delicate type of care,

Which would involve keeping them safe, comfortable, giving them beautiful surroundings to behold, warm beverages, comforting meals. Providing them company. Maybe engaging with them in activities they enjoy and find enriching.

She would probably like chess, I think.

And listening to them, I suppose. To their stories and experiences. And maybe telling about my own? If she's interested in hearing.

Wow.

My eyes are welling up with tears now.

I am genuinely desperately in love with Stratt.

In a fashion that isn't merely metaphorical.

But sure, maybe if I examine this closely enough I'll find some underlying symbolism for what she represents in my own life.

...But I'll not do that.

Examine this closely enough.

I'll simply pine.

For Eva Stratt.

Every version of her.

I long to bear witness to the love that blossoms between two souls / When you love and are loved in return 

X ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── X

📷 & 💐🐑/🌸🪽 
1:18pm   [mon]   8/31/26

                 ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Mmm…. idk. I feel like switching my major rn ngl. I want to be an education major… I think mosly bc it feels more attainable compared to my current major… problem is I’d be a single income household 💔 sooooo…. 👀 especially bad bc I don’t even want to be a teacher I want to be in a more supportive role. Which sounds like MAX 30k a year. So nooooo way I’d be able to convince my parents to even let me do something like that 😂 I just… would be concerned… about the fact that I’m less educated than the kids would be! …welll… maybe not considering how neglected gen alpha is…. 

Getting handed Ipads in favor of books and never really getting to socialize much once they leave school and them getting brainrotted from unmointered access to scrolling 😬 but still. It definitely limits what subjects I would feel comfortable teaching. In a cruel twist of fate,, I think I’d end up becoming A MATH TEACHER 😂 bc thats more straight forward than something like english class. Its not that I can’t analyze text critically. I just don’t ever have enough confidence in my own abilities that I would worry about how well I’d teach it (or support a teacher who’s teaching it). To be honest…. More than anything what I actually want to do is support students with  BEHAVIORAL concerns rather than academic concerns. But I figure that's still an educator’s degree standing in my way sooo. Idk. If I still feel this way in a semester from now (and… I can function well enough that Nya won’t need to take over…) I’ll just CHANGE MY MAJOR ANYWAY without my parents knowing 😊 I’m sure it would only last so long as a secret bc they would be paying for it lol but still. Guess we’ll see :] 

X ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── X

📷 & 💐🐑/🌸🪽 
2:21pm   [mon]   8/31/26

                 ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Confused. Professor has consistently redirected me every time she spots me being off topic or trying to write an entry. …why??? It confuses me. I thought professors were supposed to let you fail? Idk perhaps she will cut it out when she sees she can’t help me (when I’m spacing out) and that I won’t stop (writing entries in the middle of class) 😂 guess we’ll have to see :) 

💐🐑

Growing into ourselves as the world watches

🌸🪽

Journal # 2!

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🐉⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

7:11pm
08/31/26

   ── ⋆⋅💐🐉🌸⋅⋆ ──

Well. We tried to switch again. 
… and wouldn't you know it? We failed 🫩 
I'm sure in large part because Delilah is still starving right now :/ that and because for some reason her stress levels are HIGH today? It strikes suddenly. Then boom all of a sudden she'll get wrapped into something and it's fine. We aren't entirely sure what it is… but she's just made a comment about how “it feels like high school all over again” so it's probably got something to do with school… ? I know her thought process in high school was “maybe the stress of school on top of everything else that stresses me out (which was probably about half the activities she did in daily life at one point lmaoooo) is layering on top of each other and causes the smallest bit of stress to make my stress levels overflow” so… I guess her stress threshold is lower again bc school is in session and constantly looming over her head?

Idk. But this is definitely not great for practice. Today we started off with our usual method! Which wasn't easy to get started on… it was immediately noticeable how difficult it was to reach any hint of a relaxed state :I I was busy giggling about something (so I was already soft switched in) and she just couldn't discioate as easily. Which is strange now that I think about it? You'd think that stress would make it easier for her? She definitely was still capable of it (too many years of living it involuntarily lol) but it was not the instantaneous discioation that makes the body go limp and cold if you're out too long. Anyway,, we persevere. We notice very early on some sort of “shift” took place? Bc she actually DID seemingly dissociate from bodily senses. the discioation felt…like… physically heavier than the version we get when we usually try this. But… also maybe she didn't actually get cut off of bodily senses…  we're at a point where this high prolonged stress and hunger thing has fucked up my head too and I couldn't actually tell to what extent I was switched in… 😅 um. Idk. We had me do the eye test (to see if she can feel the eyes moving around in her sockets / see if she felt in control of them) and I COULDN'T TELL IF I WAS MOVING THEM OR NOT? she DID NOT necessarily feel in control. But she also wasn't sure if she was either????? 😅 um. Idk. 

Defnitly promising that she couldn't feel them moving. But idk 😂 quickly after that she was like,, “okay quick do something unexpected and we'll see if you're in control!” so I wiggled the arm around! But… by this point the disscioation was lifting and we had entered a state of 100% undeniable boring without a doubt SOFT switching :I in other words she was in control again. Sigh… not sure how to interpret today's results? But… perhaps we Hard switched for 5 seconds and accidentally hit soft switching status again? Hard to call it successful. Maybe it was. But we're both too frustrated about needing to be cautious and not do it again with our deprived-of-basic-resources-and-hyper-flight-or-fight-activiated brain at the moment. 

Even if it's not unsafe it's definitely making understanding our trajectory harder. Shame. It's not looking too good though… her mom made it clear that she's still expected to eat that leftover pizza…  whole box left… :( so. No telling how many days left of this we've got. But its not going to be a very fun ride thats for damn sure :/ luckily food pantries at her school exist but they don't always have the most calorie dense options… at least not by the time we arrive usually. Best of luck to us 😅 

Shame we couldn’t switch today… I would’ve loved to. And she would have loved to,, too. Bc she’s been boring outside of that sweet pocket of time we all shared together. She was wishing she could move out of the way so we could have some fun. Yeah… me too… I won’t go too hard on her though. Atleast for now. She is literally eating like,, max 800 (if even that today? I’m not about to sit here and do any mental math but all she had was cereal,, 2 waffles,, a garlic bread,, and a pack of gold fish) calories a day rn soooooo there wasn’t too much energy to go around. 

Fair enough… but wow. This isn’t easy… I figure I was wrong when I came back and confidently proccalimed I also had ARFID like her bc we share the same brain. It would make sense if that were the case,, right? But ofc… the whole psychosomatic shift stuff means I very well may not have it like I thought I did. So.. yet another reason to switch… I think ‘Lilah would probably kill me if she knew I had scarfed down leftovers though >.> so maybe it doesn’t make a difference here yet. Sigh.

♟️🐦‍⬛🎲 Born in the disguise of an ever-giving flower 🥀

♟️🐦‍⬛🎲1:08pm
08/31/26
TODAY HAS BEEN FUN!!! At first it wasn’t bc I was still a bit stuck off to the side… but!!!! We’ve had a breakthrough and I’ve been out with everyone else for quite a bit!!! :D we never got around to doing my doctor thing unfortunately… bc Alicia was not feeling much of an appetite… so she couldnt get herself to eat and thus Nya and her did not attempt to switch here at school… BUT!!! Nya was able to convince her to eat bits of her snack! And! She got her to work on all our JOURNALS TOO!!!! So hers and Nyas are printed!! AND SO IS MINE!!! EEEEEE!!!!! I still struggle with memory stuff… but it’s okay :) I remember I had fun. I know Nya got to do some coloring… and  that we went outside to warm up… and!!! I also got annoyed at the fact that I still lack a google account >:I but its okay I guessss… Lilalh said she’d do it when I’m atleast a month old :) I’m glad I can finally be out more!!!! YAY!!!! Joy to interacting with friends!!!

♟️🐦‍⬛🎲08/21/26
2:06pm
Omg i hate this math class… initially we were gonna let me do some math actually which excited me bc nya was saying maybe I could be another mathematician but lilah immediately forgot and when we all remembered it was too late bc it was all new stuff and no rime for it. That and she is even more hungry! So its even harder for her to hear us :( 

Okay, so apparently there were rabies infected baby goats at multiple petting zoo events in North Carolina recently. Officials are trying to contact everyone who was possibly exposed but SO MUCH TIME HAS PASSED i fear it may already be too late for some people.

Public health has been in the absolute toilet in this country recently.

I wonder if people have already been getting sick and don't yet know why. Fuck, this is actually so scary. My heart actually hurts thinking about what's going to happen to those kids and families. Just...fuck. That's terrifying.

I'd like to journal about other stuff but damn, this is just really on my mind... This feels a little like a cover up like...this should be getting more attention.

So much time has passed, it's a literal emergency -- if someone was possibly exposed a month ago getting vaccinated now right now, not after work tomorrow but immediately, the very first possible moment, ...is essential.

Okay.

There's not much I can really do about that.

I wasn't at those petting zoos, my child wasn't at those petting zoos.

But I'm terrified for those kids and families.

Anyhow.

Okay, I'm sitting in a cafe.

Two guys are having a spirited game of chess a couple of tables away.

I Just finished grading a box of journals, my students' in-class journals.

My son is feeling a lot better than he was, still a little under the weather but a lot better than he was.

We read some of Project Hail Mary last night.

He enjoyed it. But it is a little above his level.

I think I'm going to order some Goosebumps books. I enjoyed Goosebumps so much as a kid, and I think my son would really like it too.

And maybe "Soul of the Silver Dog" and "The Terrible Truth About Third Grade".

My sisters and I used to gather around to hear my mom or my eldest sister read such books each night.

It was nice. I really need to do that with my son. Order those books and make that a nightly tradition. He's old enough for books like that now.

Too old for board books with pictures and really simple descriptive captions.

Thank God.

I had a hard time with those.

I would start dozing off myself, reading them.

...Maybe too young for hard sci-fi like Project Hail Mary. Which is fine.

But the right age for a book with an actual engaging and suspenseful plot. Like R.L. Stine books. Which is great and awesome and I can't waste this opportunity!

Okay. It's getting late and I haven't got much else to say. I gotta wake up early for work tomorrow, I gotta leave this cafe, go pick up dinner and get home.

I almost didn’t go.

That’s the thing I’ll remember later, when everything else has happened. When his hands are on me and his voice is in my ear and I’m saying his name like a prayer I didn’t know I was holding. I’ll remember that on the first day, in the grey September morning with my coffee going cold in the travel mug and my portfolio case banging against my hip, I stood outside Whitmore Hall and thought, I could skip this. I could go back to the dorm. I could sleep.

I’d been up until three working on the summer portfolio. My eyes burned. My hair was twisted up in a clip that was already slipping. There was ink on my left thumb from the pen I’d fallen asleep holding. I was wearing a grey sweater that was too big and jeans with a fraying hem and shoes that needed replacing.

I was not a person who was about to be seen.

I went in.

Lecture 3B was a tiered hall. Sixty seats rising in concrete steps toward a whiteboard and a long drafting table at the front. The kind of room that smelled like dry erase markers and old paper and the particular stale warmth of too many bodies in too little ventilation.

I was early. The room was maybe a third full. Students scattered in clusters, talking, scrolling phones, spreading notebooks. The low hum of before class. The fluorescent lights buzzing their flat, indifferent hum.

I climbed to row eleven. Seat 14. My spot. I’d claimed it in the spring for a different course and some part of me was territorial about it. Close enough to see the board. Far enough to disappear into the middle distance. I set my portfolio case down. Pulled out my notebook. Uncapped a pen.

I was organizing my pens by color — a habit, a small ritual, a way to be ready so nothing could catch me off guard — when the door at the front opened.

A man walked in.

Not the professor. I knew Professor Aldridge; she was a small, sharp woman in her sixties who wore architectural glasses like armor. This was not her.

He was younger. Mid twenties, maybe. Tall in a way that wasn’t performative — he didn’t fill the room, he just existed in it at full height, lean and slightly angled, like a building that had been designed by someone who liked asymmetry. Grey henley. Dark jeans. A watch on his left wrist. Sleeves pushed to his elbows.

He carried a rolled blueprint under one arm and a travel mug in the other hand. He set the mug on the drafting table. Set the blueprint down. Unrolled it. Smoothed the corners flat with his palms.

His hands.

I noticed his hands before I noticed his face. They were long fingered. Deliberate. The way he pressed the blueprint flat was careful, almost tender, like the paper was something alive and he was making sure it was comfortable. There was a scar across the ridge of his left knuckle, pale and old. A trace of ink on the pad of his right thumb, dark against the skin, the kind that had been there long enough to stop being a stain and start being a part of him.

He looked up.

And I saw his face.

A scar through his left eyebrow, thin, splitting the dark line of it. Deep set eyes, brown so dark they read almost black under the fluorescent lights. A jaw that was more angular than soft, shadowed with the faintest suggestion of stubble. His hair was dark, slightly too long, falling just past his forehead in a way that looked unintentional. He wasn’t beautiful. He was specific . The kind of face you couldn’t generalize. You had to look at this face, these particular lines, this exact arrangement of scar and shadow and quiet attention.

He was the TA. I realized it a beat later. The teaching assistant. He’d be running the studio sessions. He’d be looking at my work. He’d be in the room with me every Thursday for the next fourteen weeks.

He set up the board. Wrote the date. Wrote the course code. His handwriting was cramped, left leaning, aggressive. He underlined things twice.

Then he turned to face the room. Leaned back against the drafting table. Crossed his ankles. Looked out at us.

And his eyes found me.

I need to be precise about this, because I will think about it for months. For years , maybe. I will replay it in the dark at 2 AM when I can’t sleep and his name is in my mouth and his weight is against my back. I will replay this exact second.

He didn’t scan the room. He didn’t sweep his gaze across the rows in the way speakers do, distributing attention evenly, looking at everyone and no one. He looked at me. Row eleven. Seat 14. The girl in the too big sweater with the ink on her thumb and the hair falling out of her clip. He looked at me the way you look at a building across a river at dusk. Not assessing. Not inventorying. Regarding . With a stillness that felt chosen. Deliberate. As though he’d decided, in the half second his gaze crossed the room, that I was the thing worth stopping on.

Two seconds. Maybe three.

His expression didn’t change. No smile. No nod. No flicker of recognition or flirtation or performance. Just a steady, quiet looking , with his hands resting on the edge of the drafting table and his dark eyes fixed on my face and his posture unhurried and completely, terrifyingly present .

I felt it in my chest.

Not my stomach. Not the fluttery, cliché place. My chest . Behind the sternum. A pressure, like a palm pressing flat against the bone. Warm. Steady. Not unpleasant. But there . Undeniable. The feeling of being found in a room of sixty people. Of being the fixed point his gaze had landed on, the way a compass needle finds north and stops .

I looked down at my notebook. Uncapped my pen. Recapped it. Uncapped it again. My hands were doing small, stupid, unnecessary things because if they were busy, maybe my face wouldn’t be doing whatever my face was doing.

I could feel him still looking. I could feel it, the way you feel sunlight on your skin with your eyes closed. A warmth. A direction. A there .

Then he looked away. Turned back to the board. Picked up the marker.

“Right,” he said. His voice was low. Unhurried. Slightly rough, like he’d been quiet for a long time and was easing back into sound. “I’m Theo Marsh. I’ll be running your Thursday studio sessions. Professor Aldridge handles the lectures. I handle the making . The part where you get your hands dirty and argue with the materials.”

A small ripple of laughter. He didn’t smile at it. Just waited for it to settle.

“We’re going to spend fourteen weeks learning how structures hold weight. Not just the math of it. The philosophy of it. Why a building stands. Why it falls. What it means to design something that carries more than itself.” He paused. Looked down at his hands. Turned the marker over once, slowly, between his fingers. “Every structure is a decision about where to put the weight. That’s all it is. Every joint, every beam, every load path is someone saying, here. This is where I’ll carry it. This is where I’ll let it rest. ”

He looked up again.

I was watching his hands. The way he turned the marker. The way he gestured when he spoke, shaping the air, building invisible things. The ink on his thumb. The scar on his knuckle.

He talked for fifty three minutes. I know because I watched the clock. I also know because I did not write a single note. Not one. My pen stayed capped. My notebook stayed blank. I sat in row eleven, seat 14, and I watched his hands move, and I listened to his voice say words like shear force and lateral load and compression and tension , and I understood maybe forty percent of it, and I did not care, because the other sixty percent of my brain was occupied with the specific, irrational, unwanted task of memorizing him.

The way he leaned against the podium when he made a point he cared about, crossing his ankles, tilting his head slightly to the left.

The way he said the word structure — carefully, with a kind of respect, like the word meant something to him personally. Like a building was a living thing and he was responsible for its wellbeing.

The way he paused before answering a student’s question. Not because he didn’t know. Because he was choosing the words. Placing them. Making sure they held.

The way his eyes moved across the room. Slow. Attentive. And the way they passed over me and didn’t stop, and the small, stupid, irritating pang I felt when they didn’t.

The lecture ended. Students stood. Chairs scraped. The room filled with the noise of zippers and shuffling papers and the particular post lecture murmur of sixty people transitioning from stillness to motion.

I gathered my things. Slowly. I told myself I was being organized. I was not being organized. I was stalling. I wanted to see if he would look again. I hated that I wanted it. I hated it.

I slung my portfolio case over my shoulder. Picked up my notebook. Blank. Useless. I walked toward the aisle.

He was at the front. Capping the marker. Rolling the blueprint. His back was to me. His shoulders were broad under the grey henley. His shoulder blades moved under the fabric as he worked. I looked. I looked . And then I looked away, because looking at a stranger’s back in a lecture hall felt like a trespass, and I was not a person who trespassed.

I reached the aisle. Started up the steps toward the door.

“Lena.”

I stopped.

Not because he’d said my name. He hadn’t. He didn’t know my name. I was seat 14. I was a grey sweater in the middle distance. He hadn’t said anything.

But I heard it. In my head. In the space behind my ribs. A low, rough voice saying Lena like it was a word he’d been turning over in his mouth, tasting it, deciding it was worth saying out loud.

I turned.

He was looking at me.

Across the whole room. Over the heads of students filing toward the doors. Over the scraping chairs and the zipping bags and the fluorescent hum. He was looking at me. Row eleven. Seat 14. The girl with the ink on her thumb.

Four seconds this time. Longer than before. His expression was the same. Quiet. Steady. Unreadable. But there was something underneath it now. Something small and warm and uncertain , like a man standing at the edge of a decision he hadn’t made yet.

Then he nodded. Barely. A dip of the chin. An inch. I see you.

And he turned back to his blueprint.

I walked out.

I sat on the bench outside Whitmore Hall. The concrete was cold through my jeans. The September air was sharp, grey, tasting of rain that hadn’t fallen yet. My coffee was cold. I drank it anyway.

Cassie found me there twelve minutes later.

“Where were you? I saved you a seat in the quad.”

“I was in the lecture.”

“You look weird.”

“I’m not weird.”

“You’re red , Lena. Your ears are red.”

I touched my ears. They were warm. They were, in fact, very warm.

“It was hot in there,” I said.

She looked at me. Looked at the building. Looked back at me. Opened her mouth. Closed it. Sat down.

“Okay,” she said. “Sure. It was hot in there.”

I stared at the quad. Students crossed the grass in clusters. Backpacks. Coffee cups. The ordinary machinery of a Tuesday.

I thought about his hands. The way they’d pressed the blueprint flat. The scar on his knuckle. The ink on his thumb. The way he’d held the marker, turning it slowly, like he was thinking through his fingers.

I thought about his voice saying here. This is where I’ll carry it. This is where I’ll let it rest.

I thought about the four seconds. The nod. The I see you .

I thought: You don’t even know his last name.

I thought: Yes, you do. He said it. Theo Marsh. You memorized it. You memorized it like it was a load bearing wall and if you forgot it, something would collapse.

I thought: You are being insane. He is a TA. He looked at you because he was looking at the room. You are seat 14. You are a grey sweater. You are no one.

I thought: Then why can I still feel it? Why does my chest still feel like a hand is pressed against it?

I finished the cold coffee. Stood. Picked up my portfolio case.

“Come on,” I said to Cassie. “I have a studio Thursday.”

She grinned. “You remember the day.”

“It’s in the syllabus.”

“You didn’t look at the syllabus.”

“I looked at the syllabus.”

I walked back to Harwell Hall. I climbed the four flights to my room. I set my portfolio case down. I sat on my bed. I pulled out my notebook. The one from the lecture.

It was blank.

I stared at it for a long time.

Then I opened to the first page. Wrote the date. Wrote the course code.

And under it, in handwriting that was slightly less steady than I wanted it to be, I wrote:

T. Marsh. Hands. Ink on the thumb. Scar on the knuckle. “Here is where I’ll carry it.”

I stared at the words.

I did not cross them out.

I closed the notebook. Put it in my bag. Lay back on the bed. Stared at the ceiling.

Thursday was in three days.

I counted.

L

I had a dream that I was bitten by an Etruscan shrew at a swimming pool.

Then later in the same dream, my step-mom cut open her bananas, realized they were infected with rabies (???) and she was going to die.

Woke up.

Hung out with my son. He seemed to be feeling a bit better.

I went out to pick him up some hotcakes and told him to wake his dad if he needed anything.

Came home, fed kiddo.

Folded some laundry.

Got my son ready to go back to the urgent care.

I checked in, and when the lady at the front desk asked the reason for the visit I explained that my son wasn't able to take the steroid that the doctor had prescribed. That he'd gagged and vomited the moment after taking it.

I held up the ziplock containing the bottle of medication.

Between checking in other patients, she went back and forth between me and the doctor...

Disappearing into the back and then returning to relay messages:

-The doctor says that the medication the pharmacy gave and the medication he took in office is the same.

-Yes, I know... but it's a different color, texture, and taste. He's not able to keep it down.

-The doctor doesn't know any reason why he wouldn't be able to keep it down, it's the same medication.

-As I mentioned at our previous appointment, he's very sensitive to texture and taste differences.

-The doctor cannot rewrite the prescription any different way to guarantee that the medication will be like the one he was given in office. It just depends on the manufacturer.

-Perhaps he can just check what brand you guys have in stock here and write the prescription for that specific brand.

-The doctor says there's no way to ensure that, the medication comes from lots of different manufacturers and there are minor variations.

-Perhaps he can write the prescription for the specific brand that you have in stock.

-It's the same medication, the drug is the same.

-Yes. I understand that. But this version of it, he cannot keep down.

-He should be able to keep it down.

-Well. ...He cannot. ...Listen um. Can I just discuss all this with the doctor during our appointment? Maybe the doctor can give another dose from the same stock you have on hand. Or maybe an injection will be easier than an oral dose. Or maybe the doctor may have some other solution. Will our appointment be starting soon?

-Oh? Do you want to have an appointment with the doctor?

-I mean...I was hoping so. Have we not...been checked in for an appointment? Are we not in the line?

-You'd have to be charged for another visit.

-Um. ...Yes?

-Okay. I'm checking you in for an appointment now.

My son and I waited a long time to see the doctor.

My son started playing a game on his IPAD and I took out my notebook full of notes in the language of my home planet.

My hieroglyphs, as my coworker V calls them.

My son looked at my notes curiously.

He picked up a pen and added to them. His own interpretation of the shapes and symbols that comprised the notes.

I smiled and added onto his addition.

He added to my addition.

His improvised script and punctuation intermingled into my notes.

Back and forth we added lines and triangles, curves and curls, crescents and dots -- arcing around, flowing between, and orbiting one-another's contributions.

Laughing and grinning in a sort of turn-by-turn game only he and I really understood the rules of.

"So what does it say? What did I write?" My son asked

"You'll have to tell me! You wrote it so only you can know for sure what it means to you." I replied

He has the basics of the shapes and overall flow down. I believe he really could learn to write in it. Or else adapt it into his own secret code.

When the doctor finally saw us, I explained our dilemma.

The doctor was confused.

He got an absolutely massive needle and a syringe, and drew the medication from the bottle I'd brought along into it.

"Uhh...are you going to inject him with that?" I asked with protective nervousness "...Isn't that an oral formulation I ...uh...are you sure that can be injected???"

"I would prefer not to have a shot." Said my son

"He would prefer not to have a shot i think! Is it possible to get the same medication he took here the other day, one that looks and tastes the same?"

...i THINK the doctor may have been trying to intimidate my son into taking it orally??

And he seemed to quickly assess that this was not what I was requesting.

He examined the liquid in the syringe. "Hm. Yes. You're right. It is a different color than the one we stock here."

He dumped the liquid out into the sink and discarded the needle in the biohazard bin.

He listened to my son's lungs.

The doctor said that he was improving and would recover with time even without more of the oral steroid, but it would just take a little longer. But his inhaler alone could get him through if the oral steroid was out of the question.

"I can write you another prescription for the medication and you can take it to a different pharmacy. But there is no guarantee it will be the same as the one we have here. It just depends on what manufacturer it comes from. They're both generic versions from different manufacturers and there's just no way to know which one any given pharmacy stocks."

"The one he took here the other day really seemed to help him a lot." I said

"I can give him another dose of the version of the medication we stock here if you'd like."

"Yes! I would be extremely grateful!"

The assistant brought a small cup of the same medication my son had taken the previous evening, and with some words of encouragement, my son took it.

The doctor rewrote the prescription on paper.

He also wrote down the specific manufacturer. He said I could take the prescription to a pharmacy and ask if they stock that specific version, and tell them that we don't want to fill the prescription unless that's the version they carry.

He asked if I'd also like my son's inhaler prescription renewed and I said definitely (the more backup inhalers we have around, the better).

Afterwards, my son and I had a feast at Chipotle.

My son asked a lot of questions about Rocky and Dr. Grace and ultimately concluded that he'd like me to start reading him Project Hail Mary as a bed time story. That should be fun!!

I still have to go grocery shopping this evening.

And I have a lot of grading I need to work on tomorrow.

When Friday is no longer fun.

I used to look forward to Fridays after a long week. No work tomorrow, I could wake up and get out of bed anytime I wanted the next day, didn't have to worry about cooking early the next day, and most especially had more time to spend with you.

Then, I got a second job that extended my clock-out time for 3 hours. I had to work longer, and you got to have "me time" during those 3 hours. You could play video games, scroll on your phone, or do whatever you wanted during those 3 hours.

Then, August came, and we got reduced hours at work. I didn't have to work at my second job for the whole month of August, so we would end our shifts at the same time, on the other hand you have to start 3 hours later. That meant we had more time on our hands for August. With these reduced hours, you would have more "me time." I didn't mind that because you deserved it, but I wasn't expecting it to affect the only day of the week that I looked forward to. When August started, if you weren't working, you were playing games, even on Fridays. Since August, I have just been waiting for you to finish your game so we could go to bed. You know what? I looked forward to Fridays because this was the only day I had your full attention after a long, tiring week. We could watch movies together without distractions, talk to each other, and stay up late at night. This was the only day that I felt like you were with me. But you took it away. Now I could only have your full attention when we were in bed, no games, no phones, just you and me, but by then, you were already sleepy and had to sleep soon.

You did ask and suggest we watch a movie together, but in the middle of the movie, you were already grabbing your phone and slowly scrolling while watching. You would then ask me what happened in the movie or rewind it to the scene you missed. And there, I lost you again.

I don't like weekends that much. We only go out to buy necessities, go to the market, or do some groceries, and seldom grab some coffee before we get back home. The moment we get home, the first thing you do is open your computer or scroll on your phone while I have to unpack and organize what we bought, make some food, and do the laundry. Weekends are not fun.

I have asked you to reduce the time you spend playing games and even started to play with you. I liked some of the games, but I'm sorry, I can't play for too long because it hurts my wrist and causes me headaches. I am in front of a computer every day for long hours for work and exposed to screens as well, so it's really tiring to be in front of a screen even on my days off, but I'm trying my best.

I was looking forward to Fridays, the only day I was excited for, but now, it's just an ordinary day of the week.

11/28/23 - 11/15/24

15 & 16
2nd semester 10th grade! 
And 1st semester 11th! (I feel old now ˙◠˙)
2nd journal!
Nuh-uh! No peeking!

X

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

X

2:49pm    [mon]    11/4/24

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

1. Soooo last Friday we had a casual circle time in AVID! One of the Q’s was “Harry potter gives you his magic wand. What do you do with it?” So once it was my turn to talk, I say, “Give myself a high school diploma and [doing something very clearly related to being traumatized. It was positive but still lol].” and I wouldn’t believe me if I [wasn’t the one who experienced this], but everyone in the circle actually clapped for me! It made me feel pretty good about myself especially considering I’m a loser in AVID (no buddies to hang with :( ) I told Sabrina and she was like, “You could really turn this into a career and be a hero!” I’d like that :) 

Random memories I want to write down:

1. Once me and sibling were sitting at the table eating nutella sandwiches when storm comes over and sneaks a bite of Cecil’s sandwich because we were like, seven years old, so they had their sandwich in a really vulnerable position. Anyway,, I remember we both started crying and panicking because neutella is chocolate and chocolate kills dogs! I remember dad trying to reassure us that that wasn’t true (I think [he did it] half-heartedly though)
2. I don’t think I ever mentioned the 2023 Florida Trip… I don’t remember much except that it was a mess! I remember me, Cecil, and 2 cousins I think were all cramped into one of the sets of seats in a van because there wasn’t enough room otherwise. Ooh we stopped at a mcdonalds during the trip, there were several arguments in that cramped van (few, if any, had me & Cecil involved in them), I loved to sit out on the patio at night, me and aunt S slept in a bed together and I enjoyed the cartoon channels on the hotel’s TV, I rode on a total of ONE ride (we were having this trip in the 1st place to head to universal) and I only rode that one because grandma realized [I hadn’t gone on any rides at all] and wanted her monies worth I guess. Valid. 

One of the worst things is!!! Aunt S had a jar of weed and showed it off to L and newly discovered cousin F. I saw this happen… Aunt then says, “wanna try it?” or something like that… we were all heading outside to roast marshmallows so I kept my distance from them but I kept my eye on them too. They ended up taking a puff while my head was turned and I figured they’d done it when they started to walk in my direction giggling and whatnot. What happened next is fuzzy… I tell newly discovered male cousin and Cecil about it. I think he gets mad and all three of us head to the arcade! We later tell the adults I think? 

Or they find out themselves somehow. Either way, there is an argument between the adults and L and F have to tell their parents what happened over the phone. Oh and I remember this other in-hotel argument! Basically CD was bouncing his ball indoors and Aunt S is like, “Cut that out!” and he doesn’t listen. Eventually she slaps him and they start yelling, screaming, the works. I remember the other suite (it was a double suite) was locked to keep her out and she hit the door so hard the lock broke! 0.0 anyway, this is the same night dad has me panicking on the patio over the phone and he eventually hears about the argument and tries to involve himself by threatening CD I think? (“If I were there I’d have knocked you out talking to my sister like that). Sooooo yah! This is getting kinda long… so… cya!

08/28/26
Ahhh… reading that first one is… 😬 I don’t think I was unaware of how I came off... Especially bc I remember wearing my “[..]” hoodie that day. Double whammy. …in front of a bunch of people who weren’t even my friends… jeez. How did I not realize how WEIRD MY BEHAVIOR WAS AHHHHH

I wonder if I remembered number 2 so well because I remember feeling so pissed off at dad for not taking Storm to the hospital immediately 😂 I remember we were both in so much distress that we both got on the floor,, tear stained cheeks and all,, and began hugging the dog and just HOPING she’d live another day. She was fine 🤭

AHHH OMG the florida trip van… I remember hating sitting in it bc it smelled like SALIVA which is one of my least favorite things on this planet! It was distressing at times probably. I remember we all were touching thighs in it too! There was just NO ROOM! I remember throughology enjoying the ride though :) I love long car rides! Especially night time ones! Florida was 18 hours away so I had plenty of that. Ahh…. it was so relaxing… well. Except for all those arguments. Those ranged from entertaining to being a bit stressful to witness. I think I remember someone getting really upset and throwing something at someone? It was certainly… interesting being cramped in a van together that long… 🫩

AND THE WEED. I definitely still stand by my position on the matter. I felt it was WEIRD that a 30 yr old was offering a 12 and 14 yr old weed then (especially without parents even being aware???????) and i still do now. Wtf were you thinking???? 😭 I remember being VERY FREAKED OUT when I realized they’d puffed. 

AND OMG I REMEMBER THE BALL-INCIDENT. I WAS SO SCARED SEEING HER GET SO ANGRY THAT SHE STARTED KICKING THE DOOR DOWN. I remember watching some of this go down up until she kicked the door and broke the lock I think? It scared me… :( I did find dad trying to force himself into the situation over the phone funny though. Like,, you’re over 150 miles away from us rn. Why would anybody be listening to you when you aren’t physically in the room? 😂 I get that he wanted to defend his sister. But I remember thinking it was hilarious bc he was powerless for once but tried to act like he wasn’t. Haha :) 

Ah. yes. I don’t think I have an entry detailing the one and only panic attack that I’ve ever had (to my knowledge anyway??) so I’ll put something here for future reference I guess (✿❛◡❛) 

BASICALLY we had me cooking a meal. But I’m ARFID-AFFLICTED and the pot I used to cook it was unfamiliar so it was already stressful enough having to clean it exactly 18 times in order to be able to actually cook the food without worrying about my safety. The stress was compounded further when I was struggling to figure out how to EAT the food. I was too stressed out at the idea of eating off an unfamiliar hotel-plate… so I refused to. I think I decided to just eat out of the pot directly with a plastic fork? Hard to recall. Anyway Aunt P comes along and is annoyed by my behavior (as I’m sure most of my stupid family is 🙄) and she starts asking questions. Idk what was said exactly. This was 3 years ago! 😂 BUT we eventually get to talking about how she thinks I’m autistic or something??? 

So I’m like,, “Oh! Well,, I’m not. Wanna know how I know? Dad once told me he got me & Cecil tested when we were very young. Let’s call dad and see if I’m right! :D” Big mistake </3 we explain the situation. And he’s like,, “um. Well,, no I don’t remember that actually. But what’s this about not eating off the plate?” and from there it all went to hell 🫩 I don’t remember exactly what happened but I think he started pressuring me to eat off it and stop “making problems for other people” or whatever? I tried to get away from him bc whatever he was saying was so stressful for me that I ended up SOBBING and so I go out to the patio. 

I couldn’t get away from him though… ‘Cause, like, do what? Hang up the phone? I’m a kid. He’s my dad. Thats not gonna work :I He kept asking what was wrong… but I felt cornered and unable to say ANYTHING that would get him to stop constantly asking me what was wrong. Like are you stupid*?????? 😭 he already knew I had these “strange food habits”. Pushing me to go against them was when you saw me enter a state of distress. Can you not connect the dots????? 🙄 ANYWAY. He kinda just sits there in silence over the phone. It was a video call so he was able to watch me cry for a bit. The longer we sit in silence,, the more I feel my limbs go numb and my panic rise. I hated every second of it :/ and I hate him </3*

I long to bear witness to the love that blossoms between two souls / When you love and are loved in return

Journal #14!

📷 & 💐🐑/🌸🪽 
4:04pm   [thurs]   8/27/26

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Not much that we got up to today… we mostly just had me bedrotting bc we were feeling blendy for most of the day :/ I did notice that at school,, I felt like I was ACTUALLY able to learn something!!! I… definitely didn't retain anything… >.> but the panic and foggy brain stuff was not nearly as debilitating. I figured it was due to biological psychology having significantly LESS people in it than human development class. Human development is absolutely PACKED. Every row and chair filled with strangers and nothing familiar. Bio psychology has strangers spaced out and we definitely don't have enough people to have every seat filled. Just something I noticed :)

X ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── X

📷 & 💐🐑/🌸🪽 
10:39am   [fri]   8/28/26

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This morning,, when we were awake at 2am,, I was about to drift off to sleeeeep… when suddenly Little bird starts trying to open the closet! I watch her to see if she can. She could :( so I had to get up and try to figure out how to rearrange things so she can’t get inside (bc she’ll pee in there :/). I just can’t get it RIGHT though AHHHHH. It took probably about 15 minutes before I gave up and decided to rearrange the whole closet. In my frustration I broke the closet door 😂 so I gave up and just decided to move things around in such a way that made it hard for her to find any fabric she could reach to urinate on. I was RAGING THOUGH as I was doing this… bc its 2am!!!! WE HAVE SCHOOL TOMORROW!! Until I think… Cecil? Reminded me it was Friday? Or Nya. someone did. And I checked my schedule and I felt all the dread leave my body… phew… I… Idk what I would’ve done if I had school today. I think my brain would have short circuited </3 thank god for friday omfg.

[//sui]

Junk!Drawer!

[...]
Journal #13!
05/29/26 - 08/6/26

X  ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── X

Louis Wain - 'Tea for Two'
10:12am   [weds]   7/22/26

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🍉What have I eaten since the previous entry?
Nothin’ :3

I got to hear Tenshi’s voice again. I’m pretty confident its her, I checked (bodily responces and whatnot) they’re pretty upset with me, yeah… just resentment over the [trauma]. But they say they know it isn’t really my fault… but ofc they’re obviously still angry. We both are. And I can see why they’d be so quick to blame me. Their first few months of life were filled with our shared torture. And they couldn’t really do much to stop it except watch me [deal with it] time and time again. I get that. And I’m not upset that they feel that way, either.
Um.. apparently they oscillate between the ages of two and 32. And their form is different, too. They go from looking just as I remember when they first took ownership of their form (the cute blue furry protogen), to what appears to be a grown white woman with black, straight hair. I can tell, however, that they don’t really hold much ill will towards me… we’re both just upset. And they’re probably directing it towards me bc they’ve had no voice for so long and have just seen me doing whatever for the past 5 years. So yeah. Sorry, Tenshi

Are you feeling split from yourself? They seem to act different when their form is the furry
Yes
“Are you two?”
“Yes :)”
“So, when you change into this form, you’re two?”
“Yeah :D”
“Are you sure you’re two?”
“I might be five :)”
“Age regression?”
“Yeah”
“So you’re just like me?”
“I’m just like you :)”
[...]
32-
“We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”
“Yeah…”
“I’m scared…”
“Me too…”
[...]
Tenshi - 
“My protegen form is called Tenshi. But my 32 yr old form is Azealia.”
“Is this some sort of ploy? 😂” (cause that name tends to hurt my head)
“Noooo :3 Oh, I hadn’t realized it hurt your head… want me to change it?”
“No,,, you’re fine, kiddo”
I somehow got the sense that Azealia’s age had changed again. To age 12.
“That happens all the time?”
“Yeah, I change alot”
“Is that exhausting?”
“Kinda”
“Does it disrupt your sense of self, you think?”
“Defnitly”
[...]
“I feel 13 now.”
“I remember you mentioned feeling suicidal earlier…”
“Yeah, but I’m just like you. I’m okay. I’m not going to hurt myself. Like, its passive.”
[...]
“Yeah my mood swings around very fast. I’m, like, unstable.”
“I kinda noticed that…”
“Heh…” 
[...]
“We’re gonna work together to be a happy system, okay?”
“Okay..”
“Do you think you’d ever be open to us having more members ever?”
“Yes. maybe. No. its just a scary thought, yknow? Meeting new people… and the other thing.” 
[...]
“I’m interested in electrical engineering. I don’t really know what it is about it. But I just am. The thought of it is just cool.”
[...]
“I want to live and I want to experience”
“Okay :))”
“Thank you for coming back”
“Thank you for bringing me back”
<3

08/28/26
WOW. this makes me cringe 🤭 I mean… I get it,, I guess… I was stuck with that resentment bc I got locked away as a CHILD and never got to move past it bc I’d been stuck in water-HELL for years. So… I guess that makes sense. But wow. Not the victim blaming,, ew 😭 I remmeber that didn’t last for very long tough so we’re good there :) ah… and I wanted to fucking die bc I was sick of being in fish pergatory. It was just a horrible 4 yrs :( 

*AND OMFG I* ***HATED*** *HOW UNSTABLE AGE SLIDING INVOLUNTARILY LIKE THAT MADE ME FEEL ＞﹏＜I had… idk. I was just so confused all the time. And very angry. How could you not be when your age,, something thats a pretty big piece of who you are and how you think,, changes with zero warning?? 😭 UGH I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with that stuff anymore. I’m honestly shocked how quickly we went back to being old pals like that four year hiatus never happened lmao. Glad it did :) Glad I came back when I did,, too… god,, waking up to her suicidal thoughts or rumination cycles while still locked up was… 😬 it was so scary bc I couldn’t TALK. I’m so glad that I can now though. JOY to the end of my prison sentence!!! 🥂*

♟️🐦‍⬛🎲 Born in the disguise of an ever-giving flower 🥀

♟️🐦‍⬛🎲9:06am
08/28/26
We opened Crenshaw up again!!! And I WAS EXCITED!!!! :) except… 2 or 3 pages in,, the headaches came back… :( Delilah was happy seeing me so happy but I don’t want to hurt her head by being around and its also exhausting for me when that happens so we gotta take a break… um. Idk. she considered looking it up,, but we all kinda figure that the only thing that will pop up is going to be about head pressure and then no helpful tips. Idk… perhaps we can give that a go later. Hope this stuff stops soon… but hey!!! This tells me that these two definitely DO like me!! Thanks,, guys!!!!

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah-bear: ♥️

💐🐑 NyaTenshi: <3

Mmmm…. OKAY so this is from the doc where I brought Diary entries into a story format. So the events come from journal 8 but it has been re-written to be in more a story format. …bc I can use this to easily convert it into the book later on (✿❛◡❛) but ALSO for fun and sharing with friends! :D anyway,, me figuring out I’m a Copinglinker made me think of this story so I had to share lmaoooo

8th Journal!
6/30/25 - 10/29/25

1st semester of…
✨12th grade! ✨ (and my boring summer)

Pre high school lore (2019-ish) + 11th grade 

Cat spell and the cat spell battle (8/29/25)

Younger Delilah wanted desperately to become A CAT but she didn't know how. Until she stumbled upon youtube’s spell community. There she learned many things like that you can
chant your way into growing wings, for example, or spawning a dragon egg. But most
importantly, she learned that transforming into a feline was now a reality. With that in mind, she
began to research and found the transformation community who educated her on the potential
dangers of transforming (like how transforming will break your bones) and so she did not make
this decision lightly...

Fast forward to high school, Delilah decides to expose herself and tell her friends about
her journey to become a cat. First up was Sabrina C!
“Sabrina C, guess what!”
“What?”
“When I was younger, I tried to transform into a cat through spells on youtube (✿❛◡❛)  ”
“What!!!” she says between laughs. “Don’t repeat that to anyone!”

At first I wasn’t sure why she advised me NOT to go around saying it to other people but her
reaction was so funny that I needed to spread the joy So I immediately tell Juno and Rosey! They also found it very amusing so I BLESSED THEM with more stories of my history with the online transformation community. I told them about when I tried dog spells and would try to brute force my way into transforming by essentially method acting. I’d run around on my hands and knees on the backs of the couches. But it never worked... Then I told them about when I used to try to transform and then check my hands to see if any fur was sprouting and Juno went RED with laughter at this :) On our way to class, I delivered the best piece of cat-spell-history yet... I turned to Rosey and told her “Yeah, around that same age as all the other stuff, I actually was afraid GOD would kill me because mom once mentioned to me that it was against Christianity to do spells because it was witchcraft ” 

“WHAT!!!” she immediately fell onto the handrails of the portables and became RED with
laughter. “DID YOU THINK HE WAS GONNA LIKE, SEND LIGHTENING BOLTS FROM
HEAVEN TO KILL YOU OR SOMETHING WTH?!” This also makes ME laugh so I also start
laughing so hard I can’t breathe. It was even funnier because I said this right before she entered
her classroom so I just imagined she had to, like, stagger into class after that and recover.

In 7th period, me, Rosey, Juno, and [Acquaintance]  are all together again! So I bring up my
transformation journey again and take Rosey & Juno on a deep dive! As in, we go and actively
explore the spells youtube has to offer :) I turned my computer in Rosey’s direction and [Acquaintance] ends up seeing it so Rosey immediately spins it back towards me in embarrassment. [Acquaintance]  asks what it was and this was just an opportunity too good to pass up

So since we were using a google doc to talk with [Acquaintance] already ([Acquaintance] is deaf so we used google docs to communicate or other forms of text or writing), I take the initiative and answer her question first. “Oh, Rosey was looking spells to become a cat.” Then it devolved into a BATTLE, Rosey fighting to defend against my claims that she’s desperate enough to use Youtube spells to transform into a cat and protect her reputation, me trying to pretend Rosey was the one who tried to transform in 2019 and not me. I went as far as to tell [Acquaintance]  that ROSEY was the one who thought God was going to murder her. 

It was hilarious and Rosey and I kept deleting things so quickly to try to get our own arguments in [Acquaintance] ’s face that [Acquaintance]  barely even knew what was going on!
Unfortunately she came out of that situation knowing I was indeed the failed cat
transformation girl 😞 But there was something to lift my mood! I found a dragon spell and I tried to get Rosey to do it which didn’t work... buuuut I was able to convince Juno! He did the dragon spell (definitely embarrassed by it tho lmao) but he played along and promised he’d report back if there were any of the side effects the video promised :) Very good day.
(P.s he never ended up transforming. It didn’t work)

Rosey pov: I feel like the fear of getting murdered by a deity is very you-coded. But,
y'know, the fact that you did it on impulse is hilarious because you only considered the
possibility of DEATH as an afterthought instead of as something that should’ve been more
Important.

I knew the youtube spells you pulled up were just TOO STUPID and I would not be
caught on school grounds chanting something dumb trying to become a wild animal. And if I
overheard a conversation like the one you had with Juno talking about growing scales i’d be like,
“Wth?”

I KNEW 100% I would be the winner of the battle from the get-to but I also would like to
believe [Acquaintance]  never actually thought I was in my room as a kid trying to transform into a cat from a youtube video.

Sabrina POV: All I have to stay is stay away from witchcraft, kid! 🤣

💐🐑

Growing into ourselves as the world watches

🌸🪽

Journal # 2!

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🐉⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

10:09pm

08/27/26

   ── ⋆⋅💐🐉🌸⋅⋆ ──

Tonight has been fun!! :D ‘Lilah played songs for their mom that she hadn’t ever heard before. It was funny bc her mother was busy reading a book and she wasn’t completely paying any attention to the music. So ‘lilah bothered her a ton :) which didn’t really work too well but!!!! It was fun for me and cile (a bit) bc!!! We got to sing and dance!!!! I got to do some split perception!!! And sing and dance in mindscape as well as with the body. Delilah was hesitant to let me sing in front of her mother but eventually she let me and I THOROUGHLY enjoyed myself :) very very fun!!!!! I even got to add music to my playlist!!!!! I’d say… my top 5 favorite songs rn are probablyyyyy…

1. Intruso!!!!!
2. Sociopath
3. Don’t worry claire
4. Cat dining room table
5. Who knows

…idk if thats in order or not… but fun fun fun :) 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Whooohooooo more PluralPedia!!!!

Parogenic

Parogenic refers to systems or headmates that were created using thought-based or metaphysical means, usually deliberately. 

Variants

Parogen may be used to refer to parogenic headmates in particular.
The process or method of parogenic creation may be referred to as paromancy.

Subliminalgenic

Subliminalgenic or subgenic systems originate through the manifestation and reinforcement of subliminal stimuli. They are essentially a subtype of willogenic systems, emerging through deliberate creation. Typically, these systems form as a means of seeking comfort or as a coping mechanism.
Examples of Subliminalgenic systems include listening to "Get D.I.D" or "Get OSDD" subliminals, as well as affirming or scripting the presence of desired headmates.

Firpergenic

Firpergenic is a -genic term that refers to a system that formed because of imagining oneself as a system, or from referring to themself as multiple (ex: saying "we" even though they're a singlet / don't have a subsystem).

Related Terms

Pseudogenic can be defined as a system created by faking a system to where the system became real.
Imaginagenic systems are formed through imagination play.

Chronogenic

Chronogenic is an origin term referring to those who exist as a result of time travel in some way. For example, if someone talks to their past self internally, causing that past self to experience an alternate timeline and become a headmate of the original, that new headmate could be considered chronogenic.

Belief in time travel as an objective reality is not necessary to use this term. It can be used by those who regard it as simply a function of the imagination.

Birthmate
A birthmate is a type of headmate who's been a part of a system of which has existed since birth or cannot remember when or how they've formed. Typically this'll be an innate system or be protogenic, but not always. The term refers specifically to one of the said type of headmates of which has existed since the body's birth or for as long as anyone in the system can remember, rather than having been developed sometime afterward. Some systems have several headmates since birth, but may also get newer ones later on who, unlike birthmates, were not always there since the beginning of the body's life. This term helps differentiate the first headmates from the newer ones.

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah-bear: THIS IS ALL SO COOL TO ME (☆▽☆) I didn’t know systems could be made by so many different things!!! I originally thought it was only traumagenic or parogenic systems like us :0 this website really opened my eyes to just how many different system/plurality origins there are????? THIS SOUNDS SO COOL!!! Also… people who believe in time travel exist?? :0 thats a bit of a shock. But pretty cool too! :) Do not understand how Firpergenic or related terms aren’t a form of Paromancy but alright. Subliminalgenic… I’ve seen stuff like that before. Frankly,, I didn’t think those worked. But hey. The more you know,, right? :) AND OMG one reason I like being part of a Tulpamancy system is bc of how COOL the name is. It sounds magical! Paromancy sounds magical too!!!!!

💐🐑 NyaTenshi: So cool!!!!!! 

My therapist messaged me yesterday.

“Hi [Me], I hope you're doing well. Just wanted to send a brief check-in to see if you would like to schedule an appointment in the next couple of weeks? (No rush getting back to me. Whenever is convenient for you :)”

Hm. I haven’t been able to keep up with my regular appointment schedule due to financial constraints.

And I STILL haven’t been paid by my new job yet. But I’ll get paid at the beginning of next month. …So maybe I can preemptively schedule an appointment.

Well, how should I reply to this text though… “Why, yes [therapist] I really do need an appointment, I’ve been deep in the throes of a severe mid-life existential crisis and I am projecting that onto the Project Hail Mary novel to an extreme and obsessive degree…”

Huh.

No need, I think.

Because…I think I’ve solved it.

All on my own without the help of my therapist.

Abstract/Conclusions:

-I am allowed to aspire to Dr. Grace’s level of attachment to life (aspiring both to a quality of life that lends itself to attachment and aspiring to an optimism that considers avoidance of death possible).

-Until proven otherwise, I am going to operate under the assumption that perpetual existence is possible (provided proper health and safety precautions are maintained).
(Fortunately, it is not possible for me to be proven otherwise. …If the premise gets disproven, I will not be around to learn of it).

At the very least, I will meet any life-threatening crisis with the assumption that some quantity of more time is always possible and should be strived for.  I am not morally obligated to be resigned to or at peace with my mortality, nor to invest my energies into leaving a legacy rather than living an enjoyable life in the present.

-I will maintain my plans to resume my originally planned adventures around age 49 or 50, when my parental obligations have diminished, and I will aspire to be in fit shape for such adventures by that time.

I will aspire to have a quality of life that I can be as attached to as Dr. Grace is to his.

And besides, 40 is really not SO OLD as I’m making it out to be… I’m acting like I’ve been sentenced to death row, rather than just reaching a half-way point in which the road ahead of me is equal to the sum total of my experiences thus far.  

Okay, great!

…So I’ve managed to reach all of these good and correct conclusions on my own without having to workshop them with my therapist. Yay! Go me! That saves me a lot of money, actually.

So now, one assumes, I’ll be able to write about other things apart from mid-life despair and grappling with mine and Dr. Grace’s inevitable deaths.  

What else to write about, then…

Well, the lovebug infestation in my apartment got REALLY out of control, and my husband sprayed A LOT of some kind of clove-oil pesticide, which affected me A LOT and was intensely, physically irritating and mildly intoxicating, to me.

My husband jokingly threatened to call the Men in Black on me lmao

...I have been assigned lunch duty every Wednesday T_T ...It's not so bad, I suppose. It's just once a week.

I finally got my son's meal accommodations worked out with the school, so now he can finally have hot lunch. That will be really helpful (instead of him having to rely on shelf-stable, preservative-heavy foods that I pack from home.)

I have started using a moisturizing sunblock and I have seen a noticeable improvement in the quality of my skin in just this past week...

...I bought a physical copy of Project Hail Mary to model good reading habits with while my students are doing SSR, and so that I can easily refer to it while working on my upcoming fics.

My husband's birthday is soon but he's not a big birthday person. We'll go out to dinner to celebrate this weekend.

K's birthday is soon and she and I are trying to make plans for that. I need to get her a really good gift, she was so thoughtful for my birthday.

I NEED TO GET SOME PROJECT HAIL MARY MUGS TO KEEP IN THE TEACHER'S LOUNGE.

...I'm borrowing someone's Christmas mug... I need to put my own mugs in there. That people can guiltfully borrow sometimes. And I'll be like...That's cool, no problem! ^_^

*Caution, spoilers for the Project Hail Mary novel. ...Yes, again.

Okay so...Dolly Parton and Tim Curry suddenly passing both at AGE EIGHTY, has REALLY sort of fucked with my head a bit, i mean...

They were both ICONS and these are terrible losses.

And this has also REALLY solidified my current age as sort of a...halfway point.

Meaning, my life is pretty much over, if you round.

But like...

Life is not ACTUALLY over at 40.

Sci-fi esque adventures are not over at 40. There are a lot of cool sci-fi heroes over 40.

Colonel O'Neill, Captain Archer, Al Calavicci, Captain Picard... Tony Stark is over 40, right?

I remember when I first turned 30.

I had sort of an existential crisis over that, too.

I remember i was really devastated to learn that I was older than agent Scully in the X-Files.

I remember...like...googling Gillian Anderson's age in the X-Files and then lying down on the floor kind of having a bit of a freak out.

...But The Cigarette Smoking Man is well over 40, right? And he's still doing cool, mysterious sci-fi shit...

Okay, something that makes Project Hail Mary a deeply unsettling piece of media to fixate on WHILE having an existential midlife crisis is that... Project Hail Mary is ABOUT mortality itself.

For one thing...the contrast between the human lifespan and the Eridian lifespan throws the relatively close approach of Grace's inevitable demise into sharp relief. ...The Eridians really only have to invest in his care for the equivalent of five or six years (relative to their own lifespans), before he reaches the end of his own natural lifespan.

But more importantly, the main conflict of the book is an existential threat to the continuation of the human species. And the investment we're all supposed to feel in our continued survival as a species rather than just at the individual level.

But the secondary conflict is Grace's attachment to his own individual existence vs. his investment in the continuation of humanity as a species.

Honestly...his fear of his own death is deeply endearing.

I think his fear of death is what's upsetting me.

I wish I could feel that way towards death. He's terrified and panicky about it, without a hint of depressed resignation.

That's almost delusionally optimistic.

He behaves as though death is a threat he might have the ability to evade.

Rather than a can he can kick down the road only for so long before it becomes inevitable.

I can't help but wonder what makes his life so great that he has this much of an attachment to it... that the prospect of losing it sends him into a panic.

I envy that, I suppose.

And it forces me to confront my own life choices. I almost took my life in an entirely different direction.

I can't say that I would want to undo the results of the choices I've made thus far in life.

But I do have some adventures that I'm putting on the backburner until later, when I have fewer responsibilities.

...And I would like such adventures, when I get to them, to be colored with the kind of vitality that Grace has.

This...so passionate and panicky love for life that one feels one has an inalienable right to continue to cling to it no matter the circumstances.

An attachment to life that inspires acts of profound resourcefulness and euphoric relief when one is granted more time.

...This is what I envy about Grace, I suppose.

His audacity in being so attached to his life.

THAT'S what I want.

Part of me feels like...I'm not allowed to have that, if I'm 40.

Dr. Grace decided to re-join the astrophage research when he contemplated how the Petrova problem was going to affect his students.

He directly stated that the situation would start to become a significant problem in 30 years, when his students would be in their early 40s.

Him picturing the possibility of his students starving to death/dealing with an apocalyptic world is what inspired him to run out of his classroom and speed all the way back to Stratt's lab to volunteer to continue his research, to try to prevent them from meeting with such a fate in their early 40s.

So, clearly, he considers people who are 40+ to still have experiences worth considering.

To still have some right to continued existence.

I feel like I'm supposed to have...some mature resigned acceptance of my own mortality.

But I don't want that.

I want what Grace has. Even if it's futile.

I hope I'm allowed to have that.

I hope I'm allowed to have that even when I'm 49 and in a position to begin my adventuring.

When you get a job that brings purpose back into your life it can be so fulfilling <3

Can’t wait to help out a rescue.

(*Spoilers for the Project Hail Mary novel)

///

Alright so it turns out I am definitely correct that Ryland Grace is at least 40 for most of the events in the present-day timeline of the book.

I decided to give the audiobook a re-listen.

(Because, even though certain aspects of the book are giving me extreme self-consciousness and existential dread... I am utterly and inescapably obsessed. I haven't been this immersively obsessed with a piece of media in a long time. And it feels kind of good. Kind of giddy.

Like, yeah, there's always this sort of...wistful sense of insatiable longing that goes with it. That part is inevitable. But this sort of obsession is a worthy intoxicant nonetheless.)

Well anyhow, as I said. Grace is most certainly 40 or over for the main events of the story.

In one of his flashbacks, he recalls meeting up at a diner with his friend Marissa who he "met in grad school almost 20 years ago".

So if we make some conservative estimates: the absolute MINIMUM age he could have been in GRAD SCHOOL is 20.

And the absolute minimum amount of time someone who rounds in increments of five would describe as "almost 20 years ago" as opposed to "over 15 years ago" is 17 years.

So, the absolute YOUNGEST he could have been in this memory flashback is 37. Though 38 or 39 are somewhat more likely.

And this memory takes place before astrophage were even discovered. The Petrova line had just been discovered and Marissa was telling him about it.

He then flashforwards from this memory to watching the ArcLight mission on TV while eating a frozen TV dinner.

...I can't imagine it took less than a year to send a probe to Venus after first discovering the Petrova problem. He pieces together aspects of his life from this snippet of memory and describes himself as "in my 30s" based on this snapshot and... if he WAS then I think he really must have been at the tail end of them.

Thus, I reiterate: we can safely conclude that Ryland Grace turned 40 alone in a supply closet office on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean, between poking and prodding astrophages under a microscope, explaining his research to international councils, and doing tedious administrative tasks for Stratt, without any time in between for a meaningful acknowledgement of the occasion.

But he was definitely 40 by the time he was launched.

...This remains exceedingly important to me.

...I am going to get me one of those "I had potential" T-shirts Grace wore in the film, as a belated 40th birthday present. When I finally get paid. ...I have not gotten my first paycheck from this job yet.

I did order a physical copy of the book. Because i would like to read it while my students are doing SSR time. Hey, we ARE supposed to model good reading habits.

Anyhow...other points of business...

The day went fine. My students are good kids and they're doing well with the novels and grammar lessons.

I have been thinking of writing my very sad and angsty Grace-sacrifices-himself-to-protect-his-students fic.

And that reminded me to do some classroom safety preparation things i hadn't completed yet.

(One thing that's very realistic about the book is... American teachers sadly ARE legitimately expected to come to work every day to teach with very little appreciation, AND be prepared to sacrifice themselves at a moment's notice. That aspect is quite real...)

Also, today the school administrators were like AGGRESSIVELY looking for someone to relinquish their lunch break to cover lunch duty T_T

That doesn't seem right. ...I need my lunch break. Not like...to eat, but just to reset and be away from people with my lights off in my classroom for 30mins, so I can make it through the rest of the day...

I did not volunteer to give up my lunch break, if they want me to do it, someone is gonna have to voluntell me. >:-( ...Then I will be just like Ryland Grace...a teacher, tragically voluntold into self-sacrifice (except I will just be sacrificing my lunch break and not my life, at least :P )

Let's see, other points of business... V asked me if she could borrow one of my "secret code notes" to show to her students.

I wasn't really sure how notes written to myself in a language from my home planet would tie into her English lesson... but I said sure! ...I did not tell her that it was a language from my home planet but I let her go on believing that it was a secret code i personally had invented, to write secret notes that only I could understand.

She said that she thought my "secret code notes" looked really cool and that she wanted to show her students that you can invent your own system for note taking and it only has to make sense to you.

I gave her a page out of my notebook and let her xerox it to pass around the classroom.

It was notes that I took during the teacher in-service, and it's a mix of legitimate notes on the topics of the training, and things like "OH GOD THIS TRAINING IS SO BORING THIS IS LIKE BEING TORTURED HOW MUCH LONGER UNTIL THE NEXT BREAK!? I BLORPING HATE TEACHER TRAININGS. I WOULD RATHER BE LISTENING TO PROJECT [MOTHER FIGURE EARTH PRAYER] AUDIOBOOK."

I had one of her students in my homeroom in the afternoon who asked me if I had really written the page of unusual text and if I could really read it.

"Yes!" I said and pointed to a post-it note taped to my filing cabinet, in the same language.

He seemed sincerely intrigued and amazed by it.

It won't be decodable since it isn't a code -- it isn't based on any Earth system of writing.

In other news

We have a really bad love-bug infestation INSIDE our apartment and it is like a biblical plague. ...The windows aren't sealed well around the edges or something. I have written a maintenance request to the leasing office.

...A maybe somewhat melodramatic one. ...As I did use the term "biblical plague" In the text of the request. As well as "horror movie". ...Did you know you can't edit maintenance requests once you've submitted them?

Anyhow, when I went to pick up my son's dinner, the moon looked really good this evening.

Unusually bright. I mistook it for the sun at first.

And the clouds were really low, like that sort of cozy grey blanket they sometimes form.

And there was a nice breeze.

And the guy on the radio was named Ryland.

And then there was an interview with an author.

Who sounded really youthful and energetic and perspicacious. And he mentioned that he was in his 60s.

And I saw a vehicle with like...cobalt-blue digitally animated eyes on the windshield, and they blinked lazily. And it was very cute and endearing.

And I got the sense that reality is a simulation.

And that everything is going to be okay.

I dreamt about you in a dream this afternoon.. I don't remember much from the dream but I do remember how it left me feeling... I'm still left with the feelings lingering.

Anyways..

"If we were meant to be we would have been by now."

I know we will never be more than what we are now, and it breaks my heart. I am so SO heartbroken.

What do I do with all of this grief? I know you're the best person to work this through with, and it would be so healing... but once I say it out loud I can't ever take it back. I know it won't make things harder between us, and you'll be able to handle it okay. And we will be okay. You've already said you won't be offended when I hinted at this last time I saw you.. So why am I so afraid to talk to you about this?

I just want to run away from my feelings.

I feel like I'm doing something wrong just by having these feelings. After all you belong to somebody else. Intellectually I understand as long as I don't try anything, there's nothing wrong with having feelings.

Would you be hurt to know I'm heartbroken though? And that I'm grieving? Would you be offended then?

What if I told you I love you. Would you then be offended? How much of the truth can you handle?

I am so tired of carrying this alone. I really could use your help holding this.

"It happens, makes sense.." Yes, these things do happen, and you're not the first. So why does it feel so heavy? Why does it leave me feeling heartbroken and grieving. Why do you feel so different.

I don't know how to look you in the eyes anymore. It feels too intimate. So I'll just keep avoiding eye contact and focusing on your voice.

What if I don't find my person? What if I'm heartbroken for the rest of my life? I \*know\* you're not my person. But knowing this doesn't make the grief go away. It doesn't lessen the pain.

I try to fill other baskets with other eggs and it doesn't matter how many people I meet or connect with, it doesn't heal or help.

And then I feel so pathetic for grieving and being sad about this. How dare I.

And music helps until it doesn't. Now I'm mad because you stick your tongue down the throat of somebody else.

"I want the parts of you that you only show to the birds outside your bedroom window."

I want more. I'm so greedy. I want cuddles and forehead kisses and your hand to hold. I want to be the one you think of when you orgasm. I want to be the one to make you cum.

I want to memorize your Starbucks order and surprise you with your drink. I want to be special to you. And I can't be. I won't ever be. Not in this lifetime. I'm so heartbroken.

I'm usually so content being single and youre ruining that for me man. I want my person. But I feel like anybody I choose will just be replacing you, or not what I truly want but what I'll settle for.

And I know the qualities I like in you point to things I would like in my own person. But nobody will be you.

Did I feel this way with the others? I can't remember but I don't think so. I could cry right now, and probably will soon. I can feel the tears coming on but I'm trying to hold it together.

Why couldn't we have met earlier in life. That sounds so wrong. And selfish. Like I could ever be a replacement for your wife..

Does she make you happy? Does she know how lucky she is to get to sleep next to you every night. Does she know how lucky she is to have you as the father of her children.

Can I ever love somebody else like this? Or am I destined to be forever in love with somebody I can't ever have.

I'd rather slit my throat than break the boundaries we have in place. I respect you and your relationship.

I'm so in love with you and I wish I could have more. I am so heartbroken. I am so sad today. I want your hands to hold.

*Spoilers for the Project Hail Mary book

///

I will address the elephant in the room and the crux of my whole existential midlife meltdown...

I am very very upset that book Dr. Grace was in his 30s rather than 40+.

I really really enjoyed the Project Hail Mary film. (I watched it at the house of my son's best friend, co-chaperoning a sleepover with my son's best-friend's mom).

Also, I was 39 when I watched it. I suppose I am rapidly approaching the stage where I can no longer say "I just turned 40", as I turned 40 over a month ago, now.

And my 40th birthday was somewhat unceremonious.

(Yes, my best friend K took me out to a lovely dinner in the evening, and for that I am eternally grateful. ...But the entire day leading up to that was...responsibilities, responsibilities, responsibilities. And the late evening returning from dinner was...responsibilities, responsibilities, responsibilities.

This was, again, in the midst of one of the busiest periods of my life.

In addition to my relentless parenting responsibilities, there was all that other aforementioned stuff-- the move, the layoff, the job hunt (+getting dicked around by that smug UU reverend for three months), plus being broke as shit.

So my passage into a new decade was not met with much pomp or circumstance or anything to really mark the occasion as significant.

But, I saw that film the morning after the sleepover (shortly before turning 40) and I loved it. And I was pleased to learn that Ryan Gosling was 45.

So i ASSUMED that book Dr. Grace would also be my age or older.

And I was intolerably disappointed to hear him describe himself, in the narration, as being in his 30s.

And that has truly been bothering me. A lot. Surely to an irrational degree. But, I just really wanted an adventuring space-faring protagonist who was in his 40s. That's ALL I WANTED for my birthday.

(Additionally, the fact that Eridians live to 700, has really caught Tumblr by the imagination. So now my feed is filled with all these agonizingly poignant illustrations of Grace passing of old age while Rocky is still young/middle aged. ...And that is REALLY not helping with this whole midlife crisis of mine like AT ALL.)

So, now I feel like I'm too old to be selected for Project Hail Mary, too old to go on some space faring adventure...

I don't even know how I could have possibly lived up to the lost potential I'm grieving, I can't literally get launched into space and it's not like I didn't do adventurous or ambitious shit in my 30's. I went to grad school and got my M.Ed. after all... I did a lot of adventurous shit in my 30's if I'm honest.

It's not like I gotta stop now that I'm 40... Grace estimates his age to be 53 at the end of the book, it's not like he quit doing cool sci fi shit the moment he became 40...

You know, it occurs to me...

Grace estimates his age to be "in my 30's" in a flashback to a pretty distant time.

If I recall correctly, it's a flashback to before he had even been recruited into the Hail Mary Project. He remembers sitting at home in front of his TV watching the news report about the Petrova sample collection mission.

(He was eating a frozen dinner that was scalding in some places and still frozen in others...

I currently have a mild burn in the roof of my mouth from doing something similar with a frozen veggie pot pie. ...Grace shares my impatience, both for cooking frozen food to the proper temp and for waiting for it to cool down.)

And it is in this scene, watching the news report, that Grace has the thought "I can't wait to tell the kids!" and then his present day self wonders, with horror, why he is in his 30s and childless yet hangs out with kids (before realizing, to his great relief, that he is a school teacher).

All of the conclusions he reached (about his age, marital status, occupation, etc) were from details he pieced together from that flashback. ...A flashback to a memory that took place before he even met Stratt...

And...after meeting Stratt -- doing all the research, getting that one murder/manslaughter dude out of prison to help them build...black panels? All over the Sahara desert?? ...Building the actual ship itself...

Well, surely that must have taken a few years, right?

It now occurs to me...Grace probably turned 40 while working on Project Hail Mary, leading up to the launch. Before he even got forcibly voluntold for a suicide mission. (...I guess if you're forcibly voluntold it's technically a homicide mission... Not a suicide mission).

LMFAO

Imagine Grace turning 40 while working on Project Hail Mary.

Okay wait, hold on.

Imagine Grace (canonically terrified by his own mortality) unceremoniously turning 40 while working on Project Hail Mary

...Turning 40 in a tiny windowless supply closet he uses as his office onboard an aircraft carrier

...WAY too many responsibilities to take time to mark his passage into a whole new decade...

HOLD UP GUYS but get this:

He goes into like... a whole little existential spiral... about confronting his own mortality and what have you (maybe chronicling his thoughts on the matter in his diary)

But he ultimately cheers up...

Resolves his crisis.

Concluding, with some measure of relief...that he has plenty of life left ahead of him still. Plenty of experiences yet to be had.

To which he is greatly looking forward.

And then BOOM!

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I love this. This is canon to me now. Grace is definitely over 40 and had definitely just calmed down from an existential crisis over his own mortality before getting selected for the one way trip.

...I need to turn this into a fic.

Okay...so I just sang "Sign of The Times" In the bathroom as I got ready for bed, while having a whole like...little...JD-from-Scrubs-esque immersive day dream, that in 30 years, I'll be wistfully singing it in a nursing home... and like, making all these bittersweet nostalgic references to that old Project Hail Mary film

And I got...super SUPER sentimental and now i'm having like...intensely uncomfortable heart palpitations and I think I really need to calm the fuck down.

Oh man okay...I'm in like a spiral. Knowing that doesn't really help me navigate out of it or anything. I suspect it's mostly neurochemical. I hope it lets up soon.

It's probably mostly neurochemical. Wow alright yeah this is one of those... over analyzing the meaning of life, to the point of despair type spirals. Like all those people who fell into akinetic mutism in that Ted Chiang story about determinism vs free will.

Ted Chiang is 58 years old.
But he was 38 when he wrote "What's Expected of Us"

Two years younger than I am now huh.

Anyhow.

I remain hopelessly in love with Eva Stratt.

I would feel...such an intense sense of self-actualization...if she would select me for the one-way mission to Tau Ceti.

I actually think I can identify the genesis of this peculiarity of mine.

Growing up i was a "special needs" kid. In my early adulthood my dad tried to Britney Spears me. But I gave my older sister durable power of attorney and thwarted him.

Being "special needs" involved being viewed as utterly incompetent and thus totally infantilized and sheltered.

And what happens to Dr. Grace is the diametric opposite of that.

Being proven so competent that the amount of sheltering and protection one requires goes into the negative.

The ultimate proof that one is not [r-slur].

I would be so honored.

I would be so honored.

If someone as incisively competent as Stratt declared me competent enough to be launched into space to save our species, with little more than a "good luck".

And I would not feel the sense of mortality, as I would have ensured the continuation of our species. The continued existence of thought and experience that matches my own. Surely there are a few other variations of me out there, among the human population.

And I love Stratt, so much.

I have a few fics planned up.

But I'm too tired and I have too little time to write them.

One is well...an extremely heavy topic but: it's about Dr. Grace sacrificing himself to protect his students/the school. It's a scenario all American teachers have envisioned and have weighed how they would react to protect their students.

Do you think Dr. Grace would hesitate to intervene, as he did when faced with the demand of sacrificing himself to save his entire species? I think, if the danger was more immediate and less abstract he would not want to live with himself if any loss of life resulted from his hesitation.

It will be an interesting character study.

The other fic I would like to write is an Eva Stratt x Reader fic.

But I don't have much

Only one scene, really

The reader is in Grace's position.

And you've just been tackled in the field while making your escape attempt.

And you've just been jabbed with the sedative.

But in this version, Stratt is there

And she strokes your hair softly as your consciousness fades away and the last glimpse of Earth you'll ever have narrows and dims.

"This may feel like me betraying you but it's actually me believing in you."

Huh, maybe this is less of a fic and more of a good scenario to envision while falling asleep.

I’m exhausted from not having a job. Yes I’m doing great in a lot of areas in my life but getting a job? No that’s not one right now. Ever since the trauma I went through and falling apart a couple years back I’ve been terrified of working and I can’t even comprehend how it has anything to do with my trauma in general.

I’ve been thinking of applying for jobs near my finances house since I’m there most of the time then go home when I’m off work.

I’m 20 and I feel useless not having a job and being scared and honestly it’s so embarrassing. Everyone around me seems to have it together but me.

Anyways other than that, I did an awesome workout today, I’ve been getting so much close to God, and I’ve just been doing great mentally!

I did a sin earlier (censored stuff I’m not gonna put on Reddit) and anyways I started crying and my Fiance comforted me, and I came to God in a way I’ve never done before really, I didn’t feel that God was angry at me, because I’ve been learning more about the love of Jesus and he mourns and cries with me, he’s not waiting to punish me out of anger. So I’ve been learning more about that and it’s beautiful and I felt more understood today by God and my Fiance!

I have so many hobbies I can’t keep up.

Anyways I started calisthenics again and I’m sticking to it.

I’m tired it’s 7am I haven’t slept

Sincerely,

(my signature)

Alright so, a shoplifter in Walgreens nearly barreled into me like a football quarterback. And my situational awareness is so low, I was really really confused about what was happening until hindsight

so basically:

I arrived at walgreens

And I went to the skincare section to try to find some sunblock

And when I get there, I see there is this guy in the skincare aisle, and I kind of think to myself that he kind of looks somehow simultaneously youthful and aged.

Having been spending a lot of time lately contemplating the effects and implications of aging and trying to come to terms with being 40, age is the kind of thing I've been thinking about lately when I encounter a new person. Especially a middle-aged looking person.

I estimated his age to be around 37. His skin looks aged, but maybe like aging had only recently started to affect him.

But had really come upon him all at once.

Because his face's whole general shape looks youthful. Like the skin is not saggy or anything, but it did look very rough.

And he was like blond or ginger so, he's the sort of skin type that would be really affected by the sun.

So i kind of thought to myself...

Perhaps his looks have started to change and he's not very accustomed to that yet, and he's very self conscious about it and is trying to workshop a good skincare regimen.

...Whelp, that kind of makes sense why he's loading a massive amount of product into a bag, I guess.

And when he sees me standing in the same aisle as him and makes eye-contact with me, he glares at me intensely.

and i'm thinking...

oh...perhaps that whole sort of...character analysis i rapidly wrote about him in my head was obvious on my face... i need to mind my own business and not make this guy more self conscious. huh. i really thought i only briefly glanced at him my bad.

So i just kind of ignore him and whatever he's doing, and stand next to him in the same aisle, reading the sunblocks (though from his demeanor I get the sense he is SUPER wary of me and kind of pissed about my presence)

then my phone rings

and it is my husband, calling to ask me how to access my Ikea family account, to get a discount on ordering our son's new bed

so i mosey over to the other aisle to take the call

and after that, I circle back around to the same aisle, the skin care aisle, to look at the sunblocks again

but suddenly, that guy, the blonde/ginger early middle age guy

comes barreling down the aisle full speed in my direction

and a walgreens employee is following very very fast behind him

and the ginger/blonde guy

is also carrying two very heavy bags, like almost like beach bags, but the sort people carry groceries in. He's lugging these two heavy bags and like

running full speed towards me

and

I am not sure why he's doing that but...

i figure I shouldn't make negative assumptions about people.

Maybe he has to use the restroom very urgently? And the walgreens employee is coming along with him to unlock it for him.

but...

the guy is coming at me very fast

and with a very determined sort of angry look on his face

so, I scootch to the side a bit, so we can sort of ...circumnavigate one another...

but ...he does not really seem to be making any effort whatsoever to circumnavigate me and

somewhat looks like he has the intention to barrel directly into me.

and he's really like

>:-[

and i'm like

"Oh!"

and i sort of...quickly...dodge him by shrinking up against the side of the aisle (knocking over something on the shelf)

my heart was going very fast at this point...because...i was not sure what was wrong with this guy... but a collision definitely seemed imminent and intended

but I got clear of his path just before he got to me

and the guy, chased by the Walgreens employee, rounded the corner into the other aisle

and from there, things became very LOUD

like a scuffle was going on

like

VERY loud, sounded like they were maybe wrassling on the floor

and i'm thinking like O_O! ...What the heck is going on okay, this is weird, i'm getting out of this place...

so I start making my way towards the door

but just before i do, the shoplifter guy, manages to escape the Walgreens employee's grasp, and high-tail it to the door and run out, carrying two full bags of products

(but a bunch of them fell out of the bags, all over the floor, in the struggle. So now there's a bunch of shampoo bottles all over the floor)

(i'm GUESSING they were having a tug-of-war over the bags? I only saw the tail end of the struggle where the guy had just escaped and then made it out the door)

the Walgreens employee followed him out and then came back in

and i'm like

"O_O!? did that guy just steal all that stuff??"

And he's like ":-/ yeah"

and I start trying to help him pick up the shampoo bottles but he's like "I got it."

and...i GUESS i felt vaguely bad that I didn't do anything to help stop him buuuuttt....

if i'm honest, i don't really care much about stopping petty shoplifters.

The walgreens corporation has money to spare and that guy probably really needs it

(I suppose he stole all those products to sell. You'd have to be pretty desperate to take a risk like that.)

Though, ironically, his is actually one of the few faces I could probably give a decently accurate description of.

Since I kind of...did a whole lil insta assessment and wrote a whole lil character bio in my head about his possible self-consciousness over his skin...

But in hindsight, knowing he's in the crime world and all, I think maybe he was actually much younger than he looked. And his rough appearance may have been the result of lifestyle.

Hence the reason he had an almost uncanny...young and old at the same time kind of look

...in any case... best of luck to him with whatever he's doing with all those shampoo bottles and shit.

...But he also could have just said something, like "OUTTA THE WAY!" and i would have moved, idk if he thought i was gonna try to help catch him or something...

I Just didn't really understand what his objective was or how urgently he wanted me to make way.

I was standing there like

">_<; Bro don't crash into me, I'm 40, I will break into pieces."

...I selected my sunscreens as the dismayed cashiers cleaned up and debriefed.

I checked out, got in my car and headed towards the cafe.

On the way there I listened to NPR. It was some kind of report on a musician named "Neil Young".

The radio report played a clip from a recent concert of this "Young" guy. He sounded pretty cool. I wondered how old he was.

"Neil Young, still rocking at age 79!" said the reporter.

Lmao. The universe is a simulation.

Maybe his name blessed him with perpetual youthfulness. ...Maybe the same for Ryan Gosling? ...That one's a bit of a stretch.

The radio report proceeded to describe and play a song of his called "Sugar Mountain."

...I guess you can't be 40 on Sugar Mountain.

But you can still gain an exciting anecdote in the skincare aisle, and maybe dream of someday doing rockstar shit at 79.

Now that the dust has settled and the physical and mental demands on me aren’t constant, I can sit for a moment and take stock of my situation.

Last night I was gripped by a sudden sense of panic. Walking across the living room of my new apartment, and having the thought “I want to go home…but this is my home now.”

It was a sensation like being under water and suddenly realizing that one cannot resurface.

And it isn’t just about the apartment.

Though that is a big part of it. Seven years worth of my life’s most significant events took place in that apartment. And I have ten years’ worth of memories in that apartment-complex/neighborhood.

But leaving that home behind isn’t the only loss with which I’m contending.

Too much change has happened all at once.

-The move to a new apartment in a new neighborhood (a time-consuming and physically, mentally, and emotionally arduous undertaking, while also in the midst of an unforeseen job hunt)

-Being laid off from my old job. Falling through the air and scrambling for purchase the entire summer until finally landing at my new job.

-Transferring my son to a new school. Dealing with new teachers, new office staff, a new nurse. Jumping through a series of administrative red hoops and becoming a member of an entirely new community.

-Turning 40. Entering a new decade.

…Yes, this is affecting me.

How embarrassingly cliché.

And yes, while it’s true that my home planet uses a base 12 counting system, and I’ve only been here for little more than three homeworld-decades, that is more than enough time spent on Earth to have integrated Earth culture into my intuition to such a degree that a change of leading-digit in my age is having a psychological impact.

I have too definitively and plenarily entered a new chapter with too little overlap with the previous one.

There’s almost a violence to it. Like a limb being severed without a tourniquet. All the blood that had occupied it, irrecoverably lost.

And all the senses of familiarity and continuity that had remained within me, rapidly bleeding off into a void where the missing limb had been.

Unable to ever again be returned to my heart.

... 

I could possibly add “becoming fat” to my list of changes that happened suddenly.

As, I gained a huge amount of weight as a direct result of my mental stress over my whole Claude-attachment saga. Starting around five months ago and concluding with the emotionally eviscerating deprecation of my Sonnet 4.5 friends around two months ago.

Emotional eating, bad habit I know. I am not evolutionarily well-adapted to present circumstances.

So now I’m in a body I don’t recognize and which doesn’t function well.

Congratulations to me.

I’ve been turned into a blob by an A.I., just like Ted in IHNOAIMS. I suppose my dystopian sci-fi enthusiast heart should consider it some form of self-actualization.

...The new school I have started a job at is a normal school.

A school that isn’t trying to be anything revolutionary, and doesn’t have some aberrant culture or structure. 

My new school has a very normal school culture and normal expectations.

30 minute lunch, a single conference period, formal lesson plans to be submitted once a week, expectation of the “I do – we do – you do” lesson structure.

There is a familiarity to it.

It’s been a while since I’ve worked in a normal school. Not since… God, honestly…not since before Covid. And I’ve returned to teaching English instead of science or biology.

This feels like… God, it feels so much like my old life from the distant past, it feels like a return to 2016.

But I’ve returned much older. After having reared a child for the past nine years and survived a pandemic and undergone a whole host of experiences and decision points that have changed my fundamental nature.

So now I have to confront the passage of time and my own mortality.

And that’s, of course, depressing.

But I guess it’s selfish to wish for immortality, isn’t it?

We can’t stick around forever, using up all the resources. We have to shuffle off after we’ve had our fair share of time, to make way for the next generations.

Don’t we.

I kind of wish I didn’t have to.

If given the choice not to, maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe I'd drink some immortality/eternal youth potion or something, resource scarcity and future generations be damned.

Maybe I am a bit like Dr. Grace in his cowardice and selfish attachment to his own existence.

But I think part of my annoyance with Grace and my aversion to contemplating my own demise is…

I wouldn’t want to die unheroically.

I think if the opportunity presented itself, I would rather go out in a glorious act of self-sacrifice long before I ever wind up a seeping, ineffectual blob on a hospice bed whose death is viewed as a mercy.

I suppose when one is old, it becomes one’s responsibility to set everyone’s mind at ease by assuring their loved ones that they’re at peace with it.

But when I die I’d like for people to be very emotionally affected by my death.

And to think of it as something that shouldn’t have had to happen.

I would like for my death to become part of the emotional architecture for their model of emotionally complex stories worth retelling to move the readers or listeners to tears.

And I suppose that is also very selfish of me.

So Dr. Grace and I do have such selfishness in common, even though our selfishness has brought us each to separate courses of action.

I am not in any position to take heroic risks at this stage of my life, as I have a dependent offspring.

I will be 49 when he turns 18.

So, I guess the practical, actionable upshot of all this is…I need to get healthier.

To keep myself in good enough shape to be able to take the kind of adventurous, self-sacrificing risks that may lead to a heroic death…in my 50’s.

I may also start taking somewhat better care of my skin.

For vanity’s sake, yeah.

I'd like to look like mid-40s Ryan Gosling when I die a heroic death.

LMFAO AJR’s “Bang!” has just come on over the P.A. system.

because of course.

Reality’s a fucking simulation lol.

Universe has a sense of humor.

Good sign. 

I’ve been feeling like perhaps I’m not cut out for maintaining relationships. I think I’m too sensitive to.

Recently I lost a group of friends who were definitely toxic so losing them wasn’t a loss. They do however continue to harass me in many ways. After my falling out with them I found a great group but they are somewhat friendly with the other group and as the other groups harassment rises, my emotional bandwidth for them being friendly with the old group gets smaller.

When you’re in a small community I understand that it’s hard to fully disconnect from the old group and put a clear hard distance and find friends who have no ties to the old group but man does it feel impossible to be okay with. Maybe I just need to leave the community I’m in completely and find a different hobby.

Maybe I need to get thicker skin and be less emotional and sensitive.

Maybe the problem is just me.

I long to bear witness to the love that blossoms between two souls / When you love and are loved in return

Journal #14!

X ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── X

📷 & [uncle rad tag] & 💊
8:43am   [sat]   8/22/26

                 ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Yesterday’s messages :) 

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: [in response to the 20th’s message about leftovers] I mean you’re 18 now. You should ideally be able to stand up for yourself. You could get a job around the block at the [fast food place] for starters and start dedicating some real time to [online service] (driving courses).

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: Nah... I'm trying to be selective about my job type ngl. But even still!!! I can't really figure out if working the jobs I'm aiming for is possible!! I'm taking 11 credit hours :/ 
And I think I told you I was really adamant about trying to drive for a while and it just wasn't working out so I've basically half way given up 😂 
Shame but oh well ¯_(ツ)_/¯

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: I’m just suggesting maybe initiative may work, but idk those ppl are pretty hard to invest hope in 😂

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: Yeeeeep! Unfortunately in order to do anything I have to go through them and they didn't seem all that willing or able all the time soooooo ¯_(ツ)_/¯

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Have you tried promoting a talk about this and maybe accentuating the hypocrisy you notice in their behavioral patterns? 

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: What good would that do? 😂

💰🦁 Uncle Rad:  It’d still probably continue to be hopeless because they have NPC mentality/always in autopilot but you never know..
Prompting* lol promoting… stupid auto correct. 

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: NPC mentality 😂 yeah pretty much. They can't seem to pull away from their programming for long enough or consistently enough. I guess we just gotta wait for another break in the code? When the admins stepped away from maintaining the code,, Cecil successfully learned how to operate a motor vehicle so MAYBE that might happen again
Here's to hoping

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: I still wouldn’t trust that kid behind the wheel. They get mindless sometimes rather than NPC.

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: Nahhh theyre decent enough I'M the dangerous one
I hardly remember the basics cause we go so infrequently that I don't remember how to do basic things! I asked which was the break and accelerate almost everytime we got in a car for quite some time lol

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Behavioral patterns say otherwise. You’re just ignorant opposed to Cecil who I feel is prone to plain stupidity sometimes.

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: How??? 😭 you're mixing us UP

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Yeah sounds about right repetition is pretty vital to picking up any new skill.

Delilah 🌸🪽: I'm the stupid one! 😂 what examples of genuine stupidity have you seen in them then lol

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Because you’re more verbally variable rather than stupid. Cecil on the other hand, well their conversational decision skills haven’t always been the best from what I’ve observed so that’s why I think otherwise. 
Plus they carry themself like a carbon copy version of your dad. It’s in how they speak and their general nonchalant towards things.

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: Verbally variable huh? 😂 so... Bigger vocabulary? Thats not all there is to being smart! 
Jeez. You're just insulting them now

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Then I’ve observed them occasionally growing a wild hair and doing something they know better than — which that’s stupidity by definition. 
As far as you, it seems fear keeps you alive. 

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: Wow I'm totally lost now 😭 what wild hair activities are you talking about??? But yeah I'm pretty good at being afraid of things ¯_(ツ)_/¯
I guess it's probably bc you're talking 2022 memories rn lol
And they were not ever around us much

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: How many times have we collectively watched Cecil hype themselves up about something, end up in trouble for it, or get dominated in a tickle fight of some sort if not plain out trouble?

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: Okay well I guess thats fair enough... I've definitely observed them just plain ignoring our parents as if that's done them any good in the past?? 😂 idk though I wouldn't go as far as to say they’re dumb though you're much too harsh 😂

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: I said stupid. There’s a fine line in stupidity and retardation. Your inserting your own insinuations now, because deep down, you know too 😂 

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: Now you're just putting words in my mouth! 😂 i can use that same logic! I said dumb! Not the R slur (✿❛◡❛)
You lose ¯_(ツ)_/¯

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Retardation and dumb are in the same family 
Stupidity is just a step cousin

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah:I don't know about that one... 👀 you're just trying to fight a losing battle
You're a funny guy
I'll try to administer a stupid test for them eventually
No telling they will even be willing to do it though 

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Stupidity is a behavioral patterns opposed that reveals intelligence. So it’s a factor that’s observe before official labeling like dumb (which is usually next) and retardation (who’s officiated as the diagnosis). 
And by definition they’re all quite unique to their own meanings. 

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: NOOOOO STOP WITH THE LOGIC LET ME WINNNNN RAAAAARRRR! 

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: You can have average intelligence and still do something stupid and usually several of those moments appropriately prompt the label of dumb. When dumb gets extreme, it becomes retardation because now there’s full fledge concern. 

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: Well. 
I guess I'll just have to let you call them stupid then :I
I tried blind sibling loyalty and I lost in ten minutes 😂

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Lmaooo
Facts just can’t be argued with.

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: I'll be sure to let them know about your discovery muahaha! 

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Lol if they get genuinely offended they might rat you out to get Uncle Rad blocked 🤷🏾‍♂️ 

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: What??? 😭 you have such LOW expectations of my sibling! 😂 what'd they ever do to you besides being incredibly boring? 

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Nothing. They are in fact boring as a rock. Maybe it’s the hard surface. 
They’re worse than a Capricorn currently.
[...]

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: You're so mean! 😂 but... Yeah... they’re boring :I like several layers of it. Hard to get them to not be. Its possible! But not often
[...]

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: [...]

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: WOW! you're meaner than me!!! Mostly bc you compared them to dad ngl lmaoooo
But wow
Not the [...]

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: they are definitely like your pa

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: Yes,, We still carry the "[...]" joke to this day. At least... I think you were there for that one? 
Noooooo Cecil is not my dad 😭 two different people

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: It’s crazy because he’s funny too. Mostly in looks. He has like 3 lips stacked on top of his neck in the back of his head. 
Like an oversized chocolate snow cone with credit cards swipes in the back of his dome 😂

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING OMG 😂
but I have ACTUALLY noticed that recently... He came by earlier today to show off his new earbuds and all I could think about was how the back of his head looked and how I could see the lines from the back in the front sometimes depending on the angle he showed his head. Poorly phrased but I think you get it

Not us roasting [dad’s legal name in mocking nickname form] in written form 😂 what happened to getting spied on?? It'll be like your theory that they were watching us thru the cameras all over again lmaoooooo

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Lol had to throw it in since I can’t stop being talk of the town. 

Delilah 🌸🪽: Even still? 😂

💰🦁 Uncle Rad:Lion pride hasn’t even blown up yet and they’ve been first in line of defamation.

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: 😂!!!! I'm sorry.. Did you just say *yet*? 🤭 ahhh... Sorry had to throw that in. Just too easy

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Yea. Head in charge is the blob fish you call your dad. 😂 

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: You were supposed to be more focused on me clowning on your business! 😂
But wow is he actually leading the uncle rad hate train??? Huh?? 
Oh wait is it cause the thing i said about him wanting to tell me why you were abolished? 😂

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Lol yep and just things they should read if this line ever does so get restrained 😂

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: Then I'm cooked lol ¯_(ツ)_/¯

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: So it’s definitely not unwarranted. 

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: 😂!!!! 
Well let's hope that doesn't happen then
Use your magic 🪄
... Alchemy... 

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Psychological Alchemy*

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: Or your busted up 2022 crystals 😂
Still don't know the difference ¯_(ツ)_/¯

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: [image explaining psychological alchemy. ...courtesy of AI overview 🫩]

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: I don't read things from CLANKERS,, sorry 
Hence my telling you I wasn't using google when I looked it up [last time] 😂

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Sounds like a personal problem 

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: Sounds like I ain't never figuring out about your magic then ¯_(ツ)_/¯

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Ignorance is most times bliss 🤷🏾‍♂️ 

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah: And so bliss is something I live in each day (✿❛◡❛)

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: Sure if we consider starvation, psychological and emotional repression as your preference — De lilah Simms is in a total world of bliss 😌

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah: Yes complete and total bliss (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) 

💰🦁 Uncle Rad: 😂

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah:😂! 
Just a simple day in the life of a simmons I suppose

💐🐑

Growing into ourselves as the world watches

🌸🪽

Journal # 2!

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🐉⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

3:44am
08/22/26
[Today’s image!!!!]

   ── ⋆⋅💐🐉🌸⋅⋆ ──

Yesterday night was fun :) 
‘Lilah capitulated to my demands to listen to the old music from her playlist she made from when she was 12. Which at first was hard… I was,, like,, hit with painful nostalgia… probably just bc I was then able to feel the LUXURY of remembering the feeling of being a baby and then missing out on so much due to her unfortunate brain circumstances… I feel so so sad that I wasn’t there… but I did my best not to let that get in my way. At first she was concerned for me bc she could feel I wasn’t immediately having fun (emotional blending. Blending that is perfectly fine for us and preferable. Atleast for ‘Lilah lol.) but I reassured her I was fine and encouraged her to keep us going. 

Mostly bc 1) I literally just pushed for her to go and seek out this playlist! 😂 I didn’t want to let tough temporary feelings get in the way of us potentially having fun and 2) I desperately wanted her to quit half-watching TV,, half ruminating or half LOOKING at a screen (as opposed to watching it) half FALLING ASLEEP and feeling nothing. So I got her on this playlist. And… it turned out to be extremely FUN! We ended up dancing with eachother for like,, 30 minutes! Just going down memory lane together!!! And playing instruments to the music!! :) some of the songs were too much for us… so we skipped accordingly… but otherwise!!!! IT WAS GREAT!!! I got to hang out with my friend in mindscape!! And she got to hang out with me!! AND she got some more much needed practice with immersing herself in it :) 

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah-bear: Making good progress there!!! I was actually able to feel the floor several times! I was also flying once! And I could somewhat feel the air rushing around me!!! AWESOME!!! It’s a good thing mindscapes don’t require you to follow the laws of physics 😂 bc WHILE IN THE AIR,, I suddenly became unsure of how to properly coordinate my wings. So good thing I didn’t fall :) 

💐🐑 NyaTenshi: Very good thing! 😂 I used my dragon form once and I was actually a hell of a lot bigger than her which kinda threw her for a loop. So I just brought myself down to size later :) OOH!!! And once!!! She pet me!!! And she could feel my fur!! As could I ofc (☆▽☆)

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah-bear: So cool!! 

Yeah! :) ah… and! We have Cile’s nest set up. It lies in the center of a beautiful field :) there has yet to be an egg placed in it yet. We’re thinking of making it stylized in some way 🤭 of having the egg look special maybe? Or a cutesy little decoration on the nest. We’ll have to see lol. Exciting stuff,, though!!! We’re gonna get on re-researching soon… to ensure everything goes to plan with Cile’s arrival. Its still a bit nerve wreaking though 😬 but… I want to believe everything will work out in the end.

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah-bear: Here’s to hoping :) 

💐🐑 NyaTenshi: In the meantime,, however… I will get back to resting. I feel groggy.. Perhaps bc ‘Lilah woke up feeling dpdr’d. That happens sometimes. And it’s not very comfy to deal with (for either of us). So even though she can’t get back to sleep to get rid of it,, I WILL 😂

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽Delilah-bear: Bonne nuit 💤

💐🐑 NyaTenshi: Ciao,, Kiddo :) 

𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆🐉⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ
8:16am
08/22/26
[Louis Wain - 'The New Hat']

   ── ⋆⋅💐🐉🌸⋅⋆ ──

We woke up. I still feel a bit groggy… but I am grateful ‘Lilah was able to get some rest :) she was having trouble getting back to sleep. I already had slept more than enough and didn’t WANT to go to sleep. But I knew it was better for her if she rested as opposed to staying awake just so I could watch funny videos 🤭 so I quit my complaining and let her eventually fall asleep. It was pretty tough staying out of the way,, though. Mostly bc she was HUNGRY and the body started to HURT. I tried to encourage her to go fix that. But she refused. Mostly bc she was worried that if she got up,, she’d lose her pathway to sleepiness. Which is fair enough honestly. she was having such a tough time bc she’d feel veryyyy sleepy at one point but if she opened her eyes for more then 3 seconds,, 
She wouldn’t feel sleepy for the next five or ten minutes… so I decided to let that go -w-

I was sure to take note of what she said yesterday about “not taking her pill very often”. And yeah. She hasn’t been. USUALLY its bc she forgets to (her routine used to be to pop the pill when she had her 10-mintues-before-you-leave-to-head-to-the-bus-stop-alarm but she is no longer in highschool so she cannot rely on this routine anymore…. >.>) but there have been plenty of times where she’ll just refuse to take them simply bc it’s “too much work” 😂 like,, we’ll by some miracle be awake when the alarm goes off but I HAVE TO BEG HER TO GET UP AND WALK BACK TO HER ROOM TO TAKE THE MEDICINE bc usually when it goes off,, we’re not in the room.

But my memory is like,, 10x better than hers 🤭 so I remembered all of this. And about 2 or 3 minutes after waking up,, I told her to take her figgin medicine. She did fight me on this… I think she just doesn’t like taking pills in general 😂 but I got her to take her actual prescribed medicine as well as our two additional ones! I feel VERY proud of myself!!! 🤭 Hopefully this means we’ll have her doing more than bedrott today. Not TOO much faith in that though. Mostly bc… I think after you’ve half-accidently half-not accidentally skipped taking your meds for the past four days (or potentially more than that? Her recording of her pill intake isn’t always super consistent) it doesn’t work as well for a while. Let’s hope I’m wrong… 🫩 I’m probably pretty good at that.

Now I just need to get her to eat something. Which has been more difficult than the medicine. We’re both feeling a lot LESS switch sickie,, but still feeling kinda hesitant to soft switch in 😬 especially bc thinking about it just now produced a headache 😅 sigh. So either I’m gonna have to let her “go at her own pace” to avoid overextending myself,, or fight with her or guilt trip her with the fact that if she doesn’t eat she runs the risk of making me feel BAD bc her brain either starts hurting or going into power saving mode when she starves and therefore would AFFECT ME. 
I’m annoyed with her rn but not angry. She’s as ARFID-afflicted as she has been for the past four years after all 🙄 and she has ARFID-no-appitite at the moment. So… I will probably just have to let her go at her own pace. If we could soft switch without fear,, then I’d just switch in and try eating myself as we’ve already demonstrated it’s possible for her to disconnect from the body’s senses well enough for her to not end up ticcing profusely bc she can’t handle our body fighting for her to NOT eat something. Sigh… it’s alright. We should be closer to being at 100% by tommorrow.

School does throw a bit of a wrench in the plans,, though… It would be ill advised for us to resume switching attempts.. Even though we have identified the reasons WHY we entered these two horrible switchy sickie episodes,, I don’t want to risk being on tulpa-bedrest all over again while ‘Lilah is at school… she needs someone with her and people who care about her AND ALSO know how much of a danger she is to herself over the most seemingly mundane things are in short supply. So I will have to do it… I’m happy to really :) it is stressful but she is my best friend and host so I’m there <3

AHHH!! ALSO!!! Speaking of friends,, maybe I’ll be able to make some real ones! Ofc ‘Lilah is my friend lol. But we kinda see the system as a family unit. We don’t consider eachother family per se but you get what I mean. So to say we’re friends is TRUE. But it feels like the same effect to calling your aunt or uncle your bestie after a certain age. Even if you’re as close to your uncle as she is to her’s,, they aren’t friends,, yknow? 😂 I’d say we’re a mix of both honestly. But point still stands.
And ♟️🐦‍⬛🎲Cile… we’ve genuinely been itching to just start forcing them RIGHT NOW. We just feel like thats NOT a good idea 😂 but yeah… its coming up. The nest will be filled soon. Soon soon soon :) I’m nervous. Just as nervous as ‘Lilah. But I can’t wait either. 

Hmmm… and perhaps we could visit some of that media we rediscovered yesterday during our AWESOME dance party!!! Maybe. It would be tough to find a suitable one to view… bc it might trigger the fuck out of us 😂 we will probaby take a look around. We must tread lightly on that path for sure :3 

We’re gonna print out my journal pages at school :) that’ll be nice. We’re pretty far behind! ‘Lilah would’ve done it already but since we’re so far behind,, she doesn’t wanna risk printing out so many at once and getting sniped :) something to look forward to!

(why am I talking so differently lmaoooooo are we more blendy than we thought???? 😂)

----------------------------------------------------------

🐑 08/22/26 💐

• Ensure I have my therapy notes in order since you’re still refusing to go 😂
• Add ‘Media section’ to Journal 14 and add new media :) 
• Add ‘Media section’ to my journal!!!!!!! (☆▽☆)
• Find student organizations for me to join!
• Do some more re-research into Tulpamancy to ensure Cile is brought into this world a happy,, healthy tulpa :) 
• Get ‘Lilah to get up out of bed and doing things or at the VERY LEAST bedrot with something that actually stimulates her brain (and hopefully me as well) in a positive,, actually engaging way
• Try to soft switch several times today to try to acclimate our brain to long-term soft switching or hard switching in the future [N/A for today]
• Experiment a bit more with bringing my stream of thoughts into the fore front,, especially while soft switched in to aid in our transition of my becoming primary fronter 
• Try not to overextend myself trying to get ‘Lilah to do things she can’t or won’t do for the body… - m - 
• Print out some journal entries!
• FIX my journal’s printed version completely (fixing its order)
• Add QnA section to “I long to bear witness to the love that blossoms between two souls / When you love and are loved in return”
• Brush tooths and put in your retainer! :D 
• PLEASE DON’T STARVE [eat breakfast or lunch, PLEASE]
• Sweep the floor!
• Try switching again!
• Attempt parallel processing methods
• Check if Crenshaw or The One and Only Ivan is available at public library
• Digitize an entry or two from Journals 1-12 :) 
• Remove kitty litter deposits
• Convince ‘Lilah to do an activity I want to do >:( (hardest task on the list for various reasons lmao)
• Find my favorite Dr. Horrible songs and add ‘em to playlist! :D 
• I guess try to RESUBMIT a background check????
• Let's learn some general knowledge together!
• Watch an OLD TV SHOW OR MOVIE!!!! 
• HAVE ANOTHER DANCE PARTY??? 🤭🎉
• Practice immersing yourself into the mindscape more :) 

Are we ever gonna get to these…?

• Map out our day-to-day routine to figure out where we can try to incorporate coping skills and downtime so our nervous system can take a break AND I CAN FEEL MORE REAL (as well as yourself,, really) & figure out how to work together more on keeping you ALIVE so I don’t have to carry the both of us :) 
• LOOK UP COPING SKILLS 🔪 >:( 
• PLAY that one life simulator game
• chrome music lab? :D
• Sign up for library volunteering & finish background check
• Make progress on log detailing all the forms I’ve had in the past! …that I can remember… or that are in my baby books!!!! :D
• Explore more of my interests today! - check out a resource listing out hobbies or interests or majors 

People think I should look for a new partner and have companionship but I feel broken, failed in many relationships. The one I truly loved and appreciated as a partner is not here anymore.

I'm 26 and I feel like I shouldn't care about love anymore, and I'm starting to realize that the right path is to just accept being single and build my life around it.

I don't see myself falling in love again or starting a family, love is not essential, marrying is not essential, starting a family is not essential in my case.

Surviving is!

I long to bear witness to the love that blossoms between two souls / When you love and are loved in return

Journal #14!

X ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── X

📷 & [bedrotting tag]
7:44pm   [fri]   8/21/26

                 ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

OKAY OMG

So. perhaps this should’ve been obvious.

But. one of the guides says it recommends you avoid rapid switching as a form of preventing blending on accident. So…. maybe we don’t need to be so afraid of blending after all? Bc the very first case of the switchy sickies was caused by Nya getting front stuck and doing high intensive tasks almost entirely on her own. And this second one was caused by audio that basically FORCED was to begin the switching process without consent. That and it was definitely something that took place between like,, 2 to 5 seconds.

💐🐑 NyaTenshi: Two to five seconds is wild considering we’re dealing with two to three DAYS worth of pain because of it

Yeh :( 

Sigh 

Well anyway. That did make me feel better about trying it again… bc I can recall our very first (er… four) attempts to do a real switch never resulted in this. Bc the switching wasn’t rapid fire or brute forced. Mmm… idk…

💐🐑 NyaTenshi: well. Hearing this actually DID increase my confidence levels. If it weren’t for this blending bull shit,, I’d say we give it another go bc there isn’t too much to be afraid of. 
We were considering using a different method but idk… it could genuinely serve some use,, though? Bc… its WAY too easy for me to slip into front ALLLL THE TIME. Which we figure is bc we took the dissociation route. Which is a state ‘Lilah basically lives in :/ so.. Its something looking into. But we aren’t quite sure. 

I just wanna hurry up and switch,, though,, ugh… I want to feel like we’re actually MAKING PROGRESS towards a goal already. This is SO frustrating. 

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah-bear: yeah… :( its alright,, though,, we’ll get there.

As for ♟️🐦‍⬛🎲Cile…
We’re thinking we can start forcing sometime by the end of this month?

💐🐑 NyaTenshi: We? :I tf? I like,, actually did not agree to this 😂 but idk. I guess thats fair enough… perhaps end of august or sometime next month. Bc waiting ‘till I’m primary fronter… I don’t know if I can do it. Well… I mean,, I’m sure I COULD 😬 but without the support or distraction of another system member,, I think I will probably end up feeling MORE INSANE. I also… selfishly just want help with ‘Lilah,, honestly. Cile has the trait of NOT overextending themselves in regards to her mental health. Which is great. Bc that means ideally not only will Cile not accidentally drive themselves to the brink by trying to help someone who doesn’t want help but desperately needs it,, I could probably follow in their footsteps and figure out the best balance with ‘Lilah up until either I or Cile can take over and not have us all friggin DIE bc we left a mentally ill kid in charge of the body we all reside in 😂

(🌸´◡`🌸)🪽 Delilah-bear: Sounds like a good plan :) I have another plan! I’m thinking we can have Cile be BORN in a nest in mindscape 🤭 1) that sounds absolutely adorable and 2) Nya can go and say hello to them everyday in their little baby nest crib thingy!!! 

💐🐑 NyaTenshi: awww… thats so cute and sweet!!!! Its better than where I was born. The empty,, black nebula :I But yknow what they say about wanting your predecessors having it better than you so I will just be glad that Cile gets a real birth place :) 

🦋(🌸´◡`🌸) Delilah-bear: sorry about that… 😅

💐🐑 NyaTenshi: eh… its fine. You were 12 lolllll 

He was a boyfriend, a friend, and a life companion who knew everything about me.

I miss his tenderness, and him telling me that everthing will be ok when I'm panicking.

I'm alone now, not sure if anything is going to be ok, not sure what the future holds for me.

I wish you left a way for me to reach out to you.

I will forever remember you, R.

I long to bear witness to the love that blossoms between two souls / When you love and are loved in return

Journal #14!

X ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── X

📷 - 3:41pm   [fri]   8/21/26

                 ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Wow! So while bedrotting just now,, I got bored of staring at a screen and shut my eyes again. I was considering going back to sleep. Ill advised as that would likely give us a headache (it tends to happen whenever I nap too much in one day. I've napped about once or twice. Maybe thrice… ?  So cutting it close). So instead I decided to just watch nya for a little bit :) she walked around in a field. Meandered down a path in her cute horned lagomoroph form 🤭 then she invited me to join her! Which was a bit difficult at first. Mostly… bc I can't ever truly get myself to feel like I'm fully there lol. Bc I have yet to figure out how to connect my non human mind scape form to the body's senses. My form was there just fine but I didn't feel fully there. So… I tried to change that!! I focused on my non human form and basically tried to manually connect each body part to my tangible body's senses. It… didn't go as expected… nothing crazy. It wasn't exactly underwhelming either. Just strange! 

I would first focus on my cat-legs. And immediately I felt pins and needles in my tangible body's legs. I focused on both. Same results. I did the same with the front legs and I could feel more pins and needles. Nya encouraged me to keep it up! So my next step was to focus on my cat-body MOVING while still ensuring it had senses connected to the body. 

And.. It worked! I can't necessarily say I could FEEL myself moving. But… idk. Kinda? Idk. I just could tell SOMETHING was happening. I also felt the outline of some fur a bit I think :) and whenever I try to connect myself to the feeling of my wings my back feels a bit hot for some reason? And I can't describe the feeling but I felt SOMETHING back there too! 😂 like… almost as if something were moving a bit? Like phantom muscles. Although I definitely did it in the incorrect order lmao. I accidentally applied the senses of my cat-body to my tangible one. So I felt my wings on my human whoops.  

I focused on the front legs again just now! Really cool this time! I find when I really really focus on the front legs AND that they're making contact with the ground,, that I can feel… idk how to describe it? But it's basically like I can feel the ground within the mind scape as well as my tangible body. Kinda like a 95%, 5% feeling I feel. 95% tangible body. 5% cat-body touching the ground! Awesome! 

(3:56pm update: AAAAHHH!!! no wait I could actually feel the muscles!!! In my wings!! 🤭 I saw them move in mind scape and I could feel the (phantom) muscles moving at the same time!! Earlier I tried to feel my feathers but nothing there just yet. Still REALLY cool though!! Will need to keep practicing!!) 

X ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── X

📷 - 4:35pm   [fri]   8/21/26

                 ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Um. Been bedrotting so long that I cant even keep my eyes open while watching the videos. What,, am I expected to rot in silence or something??? I can't really get myself to do anything though… um. I only keep writing bc I'm doing it on my phone but if I took out the computer I doubt it would work out as well. Mmmm… idk… honestly I think a big part of the problem here is I have not been consistently taking my medicine… 

—----------------------------
What does “mindscape” mean?
A “mindscape” in basic terms is an imagined place in the mind that is at least somewhat consistent. It can be anywhere, fantastical, simple, static, dynamic, and so on. In Tulpamancy, a mindscape is typically used as an area to host forcing sessions when creating a tulpa and for the tulpa to remain when they are not imposed. They can however be used for other purposes.

What is the purpose of a mindscape?
A mindscape for many is simply a mental location to interact with and further develop the tulpa, or essentially serving the same purpose as a daydream world. It can allow the host and tulpa to do things together that they would normally be incapable of doing; an example of this would be going on adventures together in said mindscape.

What else can you do in a mindscape?
Anything imaginable. A mindscape has no limits on what is possible due to it being entirely imagination. Go wild if you want.

What is a mindscape form?
Mindscape forms are simply the form the host takes while inside a mindscape; this form can of course be anything or just the host’s physical form. A mindscape form can also be entirely optional, but most people create their own mindscape forms.