Author: shawnmeanders

This was written December 12th, 2025

Blog Post: On Death, Regrets, Motivation and Habits

I apologize, today turned out not to be a Short Story (or poem) as usual. Instead, I opted to write some thoughts I have and share them with you. Although I may still produce one later today.

Death, it waits for all. Looms over us. And one day, it’ll finally be your time, just like one day it’ll also be mine. And while the exact time remains uncertain, death’s eventuality remains the one certainty we have (allegedly).

Well, how terrifying is death, truly? Well, it’s bad enough that most of us are constantly being directed by it. Some of us use at as motivation: If our time is limited, why waste it? Others are simply tyrannized by the fear, paralyzed into inaction. Sometimes seeking comfort in unhealthy habits that, ironically speaking, will simply make them approach this ultimate doom much faster.

And then, there are those for whom the reality of death becomes much more present. Those who have a near-death experience. Or those who learn they’re terminally ill, that they have a death sentence. Here, while a few wallow in sorrow, many instead take it upon themselves to live the remainder of their lives to the fullest (or at least, for some time after their demise). Maybe they’ll start spending a lot more time with their loved ones, or maybe they’ll finally travel a bit (if their health still permits it). Maybe they’ll decide to finally decide to learn something they’ve been wanting to learn, even if they won’t really have much time to use. They’re trying to make up for the lost time.

But ultimately, aren’t we all in such shoes? Can’t any moment be the terminus? Even if it seems to be in the far future, tomorrow could very well be the day you die. If so, would you be proud of the day you’ve lived? Or would you instead be filled by regret?

Well, I like to think back to ancient Egypt to reflect upon that. Ancient Egyptians had an interesting philosophy when it came to death. When you passed away, you would be brought in front of Anubis, who would judge your worth by weighing your heart against a feather, what’s considered a symbol of lightness. If your heart was lighter, then you could move on to the afterlife. However, if your heart turned out to be heavy, then you would be judged unworthy, and Ammit would simply devour you with his crocodile’s maw.

Well, while the traditional interpretation of this is that ethical or moral lapses, sins, will taint your heart, I prefer the more personalize interpretation. That instead, it’s about how much weight you’ve put on yourself, how filled with regrets you are, whether you abode by your own values. Ultimately, while you are your own worst critic, you are also your own judge. When faced with death, you are faced with the ultimate question: “Have you lived a life well-lived? Was your life worth it? Have you tried your best?”

And while you might have lapses in your life, while you might not be where you’d hope to be, that doesn’t mean it’s too late. You are where you are now, and have learned different lessons. As trite as it sounds, you can’t change the past, you can only enact on the present, and by so doing influence the future. Wallowing on past regrets is moot, and if you’re worried, you can still try to compensate for it.

If it helps, just remind yourself you technically have no means of knowing the world didn’t just start a few minutes ago, just as a video game starts midway through on-going events. And from this point on, you can still affect future events, might as well try to play the game correctly.

So, why am I sharing this? Well, because while I don’t quite live this way yet, I do want quite live this way, and I believe there might still be some edge-cases present, I should try to live by a fairly simple philosophy: “What decisions are likely to minimize my regrets?”. This obviously is tightly coupled with your own personal ethics, along with you life-goals and desires. But I believe it can serve as a good compass for decision-making.

This is why I opted to move half-way across the world to try to learn an all-new language. That’s why I’ve initially opted to start reading daily (Which leisure do I find more productive, more impactful?). That’s why I’ve recently opted to start three brand-new habits:

• Learning to draw by either doing exercises or sketches every day
• Daily calisthenics (a form of physical exercise)
• Writing on a daily basis

It is a lot of work, and can definitely be exhausting. However, I still deem the effort worth it. While I am at times underwhelmed with the result, I’m still proud of what I’m managing to do. Journey over destination. Actually being able to keep up with these, and what I learn through it, is more important, in my opinion, than the actual results they garner. At the very least, even if I fail at achieving top-rate results, I’ll have tried, and will have had gotten something from it. New perspectives, new skills, new ways of seeing the world, fun, clearer thinking. But regret will not be present in the lot.

So, while I’m not quite far into these habits, it’s not like it’s the first time I try to accomplish such things. So, what are the main take-aways from my many experiments?

• Do not just plan to start on a specific day. If you suddenly have motivation and inspiration for it, just start day-of.
• Never skip a day. The only thing worse than skipping one day is to skip two. That’s where habits go to die.
• Personally, daily habits are easier to maintain than less frequent ones. Your mileage may vary.
• Allow yourself some wiggle room. Partially completing your daily goal is much better than not completing it at all.

Is this easy to do? No, not in the slightest. Does it get easier? Yes, in fact it does. Are there days where you feel like giving up? All the time! When you’ve had a hard day, you get home, you haven’t completed any of your objectives, and still have a few things to accomplish, it’s oh-so-tempting to just let go and get back at it the next day. But it’s not worth it. At least, that’s been my experience. At this point, it’s much better to relax your own requirements, and still complete something, than just completely giving up. Though it will be painful. And ultimately, nothing worth doing comes easy.

For example, I’ve had prior experience with this blog, and if you look at it, you’ll realize there are many challenges I’ve started, yet they’ve been left incomplete. Why is this? Welp, the actual goals were too ambitious, and I ended up skipping some days, pushing some of the work in the future, and it just kept accumulating, snowballing. That just killed it for me. Which is why I’ve had to generally re-start from scratch. Let’s, for example, look at my drawing challenge. I actually did have a pretty good run with it. However, here’s one big issue I had with it. Let’s look at the work involved:

• I would draw (and record the drawing process), which could easily take me 45-60 minutes, sometimes longer.
• I would go over the recording, take notes and screenshot important parts I’d want to discuss, and transfer those to my computer. While I was not watching the whole recording in real-time, this still took a good amount of time.
• I would then write a first draft. This sometimes took longer than the drawing process.
• Finally, I would review the entire article before posting it.

Ultimately, this was so time-consuming I would frequently postpone the review process to the next day, in turn simply making the next day a much longer endeavor. And this simply eventually cascaded.

Accordingly, one of the big rules I’ve added to this one challenge is that I have no requirements towards reviewing. In fact, I’ve actively avoided re-reading what I’ve been writing and reviewing it. Basically, the idea is to lower friction as much as possible, and allow yourself room to succeed. So far, despite the fact I’ve had a few nights with sub-optimal sleep as a result, it’s still been fairly successful, which I’m grateful for.

A quick aside about those habits. Here are a few questions I’ve opted to ask myself when I’m planning to skip doing something I’ve been planning to do, whether it’s because I’m tired or some other occasion:

• Is this just an excuse, or is this a valid justification? (Try to reassess whether it’s motivation, and if there’s room to still do it)
• How will I feel if I do it? (Trying to increase motivation. For example, reminding myself that while prior to doing exercise, most people tend to dread it, once you get started, it actually feels pretty good. And the associated feelings post-completion.)
• Is there a way to still do this partially? (A form of bargaining, to compensate and still have progress. Regardless, it’s fairly common to accomplish more than you’ve set once you get yourself to start.)

So, with these habits, I’ve mentioned how I’ve “lowered my standards” to push through them…does that mean I think I shouldn’t produce anything of quality? Of course not, I do think the saying “Everything worth doing is worth doing well” has some merits to it. However, I would argue that in order to do something well, you first need to have learned how to do such things, and also be present to work on it. Therefore, I reckon quality is not something that should be in the picture at first, but instead only once the habit is underway, and enough has been learned. Accordingly, I do plan to eventually write longer form stories, and draw more involved, interesting, and impressive drawings. And for some of the stories or concepts I’ve liked, I might even either re-explore them, rewrite them, or purely review them in the future, shape them into something I’m prouder of. But this will wait until the habits are well-established. After all, it would be way more regretful to lose these habits than it would be to get sub-optimal results.

So, to get back on this regret, a more popular version tends to be “What would you do if you knew you would die ?”. While it’s also an interesting version, and worthwhile consideration, I feel like it’s less sustainable than the regret angle. Why? Because the time-scale is much shorter, and accordingly, you are likely to be less willing to undertake more long-term endeavours. I expect if I were to learn to die by the end of the year, I might not have started to learn to draw, instead learning to improve with something I felt I was more likely to be talented at.

Yet, you might be curious as to what I would answer to the question: “What would you do if you learned you had a terminal illness?” Obviously, the answer would not be as simple as “I would not change a single thing”. The answer, however, would still align with my current long-term goals, although with more urgency. The biggest contributions I’d want to make upon this world are ones that could be served by creative work:

• Helping ignite people’s curiosity and desire to improve themselves, learn new things.
• Increase people’s awareness and understanding of some mental health disorders. (As someone suffering from Depression, I’d like to be able to use my personal experience and capture the internal monologues in such a clear enough way, hopefully leading to better understanding.)

Will I be to achieve either of those results? Maybe not. After all, if one’s way of thinking feels too different, you might simply not be willing to accept it, or might get frustrated reading it. I’ve known many people who read similar stories as me from the point of view of a depressed person, and were simply annoyed by the character’s decisions, while I tended to be more empathetic with them. Remains I think it’s worth trying.

What else would I do if I knew I was going to die? Travel the world to go meet people I care about, family and friends that live across the world, and enjoy some time with each of them, one last time.

Hopefully, you managed to get something from my meandering today. If you get nothing else from it today, just ask yourself: “What are things I would regret doing/not doing?” and weigh this against the alternatives. You might realize you might want to live your life differently, and it might give you the motivation to change your life for the better.

Is there anything you’ve been wanting to start for a while, but simply haven’t yet? Do you actually feel motivation towards it? If so, just get started _now_. Don’t wait any longer. If you can’t actually fully do it today, then get started with the necessary steps. Get registered, bring it up to someone who can hold you accountable, anything to get started. And then try never to skip a day, unless there is no other way (or you would regret not skipping that one day a lot more than you would regret skipping it). Go on, do it now! And I shall hope for your success!

Bonus

I did discuss how we’re all afraid of death, which is unavoidable (unless some theories such as quantum immortality, or an after life, are a reality). Well…as scary as death and its finality might be, I personally find the alternative more terrifying. Why? Because of eternity, its implications, and the finite nature of our experiences. Let me explain myself.

The classic worry science-fiction have is that, as you live for eternity, you will undoubtedly become bored. However, eternity is a much longer period of time, dizzyingly so. Suppose you lived for all of eternity, as a human, with your current senses and cognitive. How many different things could you see? Well, the number of images is something we could calculate based on our eyes’ resolution. Ultimately, you can probably find countless Youtube videos discussing the number of distinct 4K images you could generate. While the number is amazingly high, this is still finite. What about sounds? And smells? And so on and so forth? All of them finite as well.

Ok, so we’re starting somewhere here, hitting limits on the quantity of “moments” you could experience (here, moments are instantaneous, a single “frame”). Ok, sure, but we should be able to get higher numbers. After all, we’re immobile, and an image can have its meaning changed by what happens before and after. Sure. Let’s start with the Planck unit of time, which is considered the smallest unit of time measurable. From there, to know how many one second experiences you could live, you simply take all of those possibilities and put them to the power of 1 second divided by the Planck unit of time. This is already getting beyond numbers we can truly appreciate. Yet, all of it still remains finite.

We do this with all possible states, where you combine the different experiential factors (what you see, hear, smell, etc…) and just chain them all together one after the other, until you get one second. Very impressive, encompasses all possible experiences anyone can ever live, at least objective experiences.

In all of this eternity, this means you would be re-experiencing the same experiences over and over again, some of them an infinite number of times. Already, this feels wild, and makes you think that “Yeah, of course you’ll eventually get bored”.

Ah, but here’s the rub, you need to factor in our mental state as well. And this, at any moment in time, also appears to be finite. We can only have a finite amount of distinct thoughts and feelings at a time. And so, if we add this to our “state” at any time, this means we also get a finite amount of one second experiences.

But, can’t you still get a unique and unpredictable life? Where the events don’t chain in a way where you eventually reach a loop? Sure, you can easily intuit this from how uncountable infinity is obtained with the real numbers, simply by chaining bits or digits all the way to infinity in whatever order. Still, this does not matter for my point.

Ultimately, you could consider one second, one minute, one hour, heck, even one hundred years. Eventually, you’ll have experienced every single variation you’ll ever experience, and that includes how you think about them, and how you feel about them. This means you won’t even perceive you’re reliving the same experiences, since the awareness of it represents a specific state. In other words, after a certain point (which might require an unbelievable amount of time), your life with have effectively reached its end, since you’ll now be repeating the exact same experiences with the exact same thoughts and feelings that you’ve already experienced before, no awareness whatsoever. An existence continuing, despite having effectively reached its limit.

I find this dreadful in its lack of satisfaction. You get to experience everything, yet not be aware of it. And you’re basically no longer truly “living” anymore, yet still going. It definitely makes me appreciate the finality of death, despite how brutal it feels.

My apologies for not sharing a story with you today. I expect to get back to the regular programming tomorrow. I really wanted to write about some of those topics today, and didn’t figure out how to actually handle it through a story.

This was written December 11th, 2025

Phytomorphization

We tend to like to Anthropomorphize different things and that’s a common human phenomenon. And obviously, there’s a large spectrum to it, starting from presuming animal behavior is motivated by the same kind of emotions that reign over us, crossing in a mid-point of animals that talk and interact with each other like humans (think of Disney movies, e.g.: The Lion King), going all the way to furries, fully human-looking and behaving animals. That’s a classic scale everyone knows and is familiar with, but that’s a rather boring one. Wouldn’t the dual be more interesting?

But, what exactly do I mean by the dual? Welp, instead of anthropomorphizing animals, what if animals zoomorphized us? That already sounds like a much more interesting concept, and way less explored! Welp, where should we even start? We could obviously start with the psychology of it, but that tends to be a bit more challenging. After-all, it’s not like we can exactly get in the head of an animal, can we? We could also go for the type of behavior, a common trope we see in slapstick comedy when a dog and a human’s mind get swapped around.

Ok then, what about physical attributes? Well, here we start to broach the interesting topics. The classic example of this would be the werewolf, a human that transforms into a human-wolf hybrid, with all the usual animosity. However, in my opinion, the result remains too wolf-like in nature. If we wanted to dual, we would expect the creature not to suddenly grow fur, but instead for their appearance to gradually become more grotesque, imbued with traits we consider as more wolf-like. The posture, the different limb positions, the different proportions. Ability to speak? Gone, replaced with howling.

Attributes that wolves consider a strong part of their identities, what would those include? Obviously, pack mentality, hunting coordination, etc… You’d also expect a better smell and innate ability to track prey. They predatory hunters, so the important attributes we’d inherit from zoomorphization should reflect that. Claws would probably be there. Our teeth would probably be stronger, jaw more powerful, although they would still reflect a human’s. Hearing increased, but still human ears. Ah, what would wolves imagine a zoomorphized human would look like?

How about birds? Well, depends what kind of bird. But for most of them, we’d expect humans our whistling abilities to be enhanced, and for our appearance to turn into a monstrosity that would make Cronenberg proud. Smaller stature, smaller skeleton comprised of hollow bones. Wings instead of arms, except while still being covered with skin/fat, instead of wings. It might be modified version of skin and fat that are lighter, but in appearance, pretty much the same. Meanwhile, our skin would probably be somewhat floppy, in order to gain airlift. Meanwhile, our legs would be much smaller compared to our body, feet mostly unrecognizable with the bridge being dropped, now composed of a few frontal toes, along with a back toe. What a picture!

And how about insects? Well…speaking of Cronenberg…I think “The Fly” covered enough of that, no need to dive too much into it.

We could go all day imagining such creatures, but that’s not the main point here. What I wanted to share with you is completely different. I wanted to share with you the vision I’ve seen, a nightmaresque view into a different world.

The reason I introduced you this sort of concept was as an intermediary to what I’ve seen: phytomorphization of humans! Indeed, what humans would look like if they turned into a plan analog. More specifically, I was a forest of human-trees, and it was no pretty picture. Let me paint it for you!

First, you look around and the tint of everything is a bit off. There were two causes for that First, the trees were not covered in bark, but rather in human skin. It rather odd, but nothing too revolting. Instead of finding moss or the likes around, there would be patches of hair here and there. Unexpected, since I would have expected it to be a separate entity altogether, but it was what it was. The other reason for the tint to be off was more revolting. Up in the branches, themselves also covered in skin, were what I presumed was to be an analogous for leaves. Turns out it was all made of lung tissue, little alveoli visible along their surface, the expected pink hue to them. Clearly, the reflection of light on them caused the environment to look even more alien. A canopy of lung tissue above your head, what an unexpected and repugnant sight.

And what joy I had, those trees were in season…which means their “flowers” were blooming. Of course, reproductive organs…they did look somewhat as you might expect for humans, although adapted in ways that clearly helped the “pollen” travel (assisted by insects). And why would it end there? Of course some of those would be fruiting. A small seed that looked like an amniotic sac filled with odd bits and pieces of meat. This was reaching truly grotesque and nauseating levels.

Let’s take a break from these and head south, what about the roots? Well, they were made of a spongy, pinkish material. I presumed they were composed of a tongue analogue. Nothing too surprising there I guess. Any detail I’m missing? Ah, yes, those trees were actually pulsating. Why? Seems like in order for the inner fluids to circulate, bringing nutrients from the roots to the rest of the body, this monstrosity had retained a specialized organ, the heart.

Speaking of this, Let’s discuss some gruesome details. Unfortunately, there were some animals in there, which allowed me to be exposed to the innards of these “trees”. I reckon these were this world’s equivalent of herbivores, but this still was terrifying to witness. Some of them used their teeth to puncture the skin, and then simply drink the fluid that leaked…blood. If you’ve ever seen a horror movie with a blood-thirsty rabbit, that’s basically what this looked like, an innocent-looking animal suddenly drenched in blood. But of course, not every animal would be content with this, others would actually bit off chunk, simply eating the out layer. And obviously, others would grab morsels of flesh and meat, and devour it.

Surprisingly, most of these didn’t actually destroy these “trees”, their regeneration seemed surprising efficient. The bleeding would slow down fairly quickly. Still, “rot” in the form of an infection would still get to a few of them, and that would be game over.

So, how did I even see this wild world? Well, this was the doing of a mysterious benefactor, who wanted to warn me about a potential future. And their philosophy was of the “show, don’t tell” variety.

Somehow, research into sustainability, trying to make humans more like plants, able to generate their own food, turned oh so wrong. The plan had be to modify human genetics in order to generate chlorophyll, along with some other mechanisms, in order to allow humans to feed on the sun, simply taking some extra nutrients in a more direct way. This way, we wouldn’t need to consume other living beings, we could give up not only on meat, but also vegetable life. However, the plan was to also retain most human functions, mobility, means of communication, cognitive ability, etc…

It was obvious the plan had turned awry, humans becoming such monstrosities that, seemingly even lacking most senses. Hard to imagine they’d even retained sentience at this point. Well, somehow research churned a virus that propagated through humankind, gradually changing the people, and completing within two generations. After this point, this new seed of humanity, so to speak, simply propagated.

Since then, I’ve been terrified of being phytomorphized. If this future is to come to be, no where is safe. Such a virus will simply spread like wildfire, until it reaches everyone. True, I didn’t see the entire planet, so some people might have been immune. Still, I do not like my odds, nor do I think any member of the human race would want to be faced with such a new reality. Therefore, I’m now trying to find a way to prevent such a future.

The only options I’ve come up with is spreading awareness, but I often worry that this could simply be opening Pandora’s box, exposing this idea to the wrong person, and in turn, fulfilling this unbelievable prophecy, making me a modern Cassandra. But no, inaction would be much worse.

This was written December 10th, 2025

Lost Time

Time, a valuable currency in this society. And yet, it’s all being wasted all the time. But here’s the secret, all these modern inventions all intended to retain your attention, where you spend a few hours scrolling mindlessly, and at the end of it, don’t really recall any of the content? Welp, it turns out the business model isn’t what we actually assumed it was. They’re not just trying to retain your attention in order to sell advertisement space. After all, if you can’t remember any of the content you watched, are you really more likely to retain any of the information from the ads you’re watching? Not particularly.

So, what are they actually trying to get at with this? Welp, turns out this time you’re wasting, that’s seemingly flying away, disappearing in the blink of an eye, it’s not quite going away. It’s being taken away from you and redistributed. Yes, you heard me correctly, they’re actually just stealing your time to give it away to others.

But how does that work exactly? Well, I’m not a technical person, so I don’t understand the technology or sorcery behind this, but I at least know what the result is. You’re basically just skipping ahead with a small cut-scene served to you. And what’s done with that time? Well, it’s sold to the highest bidder, of course. And that tends to be companies, which want for their employees to be more productive.

Indeed, it’s not like your time you lost is simply turned into “lifespan”, that would be a bit ridiculous. Instead, it’s turned into actual time that can be re-used, just introduced in a gap. Though really, in both cases, it’s really more of a multiplier. Which you’re being drained, it’s as if time goes faster. While you’re re-using it, it’s the opposite, time just goes slower, allowing you in turn to accomplish more in a shorter period of time.

Seems wonderful, doesn’t it? Yes, that could be really useful, however, it’s not like this is actually accessible to most of us. After all, were you really aware prior to now? I would bet not. Of course, only companies get to make use of this. And without our explicit consent. Oh, yes, they get our tacit, implicit consent, hidden without the endless pages of legalese know as “User Agreements”, which, let’s be frank, not a soul really reads unless they have to. And even then, those things are camouflaged under obscure terminology.

So, as we were discussing, companies use this “lost time” in order to make their own employees more productive. Parts of the wealthy population also make use of this technology for their own purpose. You might know someone like that, always doing a thousand things at the same time, juggling way more things than seem possible in a single day, and yet they’re successful at all of them. They’ve probably managed to buy some of that lost time in order to handle everything.

And how can you possibly compete with such people? After all, they’ve got a double edge over you. Not only do they not waste and lose time getting it sucked through these devices, but they even acquire extra time. It does sound unfair, the successful feeding their own success. But so is life, and decrying injustice tends to be insufficient, you first need to rise to the top before being to enact change.

Unsurprisingly, if this time was transferred in order to help propel helpful science forward, I might not raise any alarms. (Although, ethically, I might still be concerned). But instead, it’s simply serving to feed the economy, not being redistributed in anyway down to the populace. Accordingly, this feels like a no-brainer, and I’m here to raise awareness. If you decide to consume still, that is your own issue. But you might at least be knowing victims.

Ultimately, here is the big question: What can we possibly do? Well, at a societal level, not much can really be done. Therefore, I have only two recommendations, one personal, one social. Personally, if you are against this injustice, you should move away from these social media, from all these apps sucking all your time away. If you do this, not only will you be able to reclaim your own time, being able to repurpose it more judiciously, but you also won’t be giving extra resources to corporations actively working against you, with no care for your own interests.

But how can you do that? There are multiple options, some gradual, others more direct. There exists multiple apps or extensions tracking you time spent and which can automatically block your usage after a certain threshold. You could then gradually lower those thresholds until you’re ready to quit altogether, gradually weaning yourself off this addiction. If your convictions are strong enough, and your motivation sufficient, I would highly advise to simply delete those apps, and use blockers on your browsers to prevent you from accessing the websites themselves (on mobile, Firefox allows the use of extensions). This is the most sure-fire way to stop. Adding extra layers of friction. And if you’re even tempted to install them again, remind yourself of the cost.

Moreover, if you’re worried about this at a societal level, spread the word. Warn others. Tell people in your circles about this grave abuse. Help the new circulate! You could also direct them to this article. Help others escape those chains! Help set them free!

I hope I managed to convince you of how dire the situation is, and that you’ll be willing not only to consider such drastic measures, but to also apply them. Trust me, you won’t regret the time you’ll be reclaiming. It’s definitely worth it. And honestly, even if this time wasn’t actually being stolen from us, only to be redistributed and repurposed, it would still be 100% worth it. You could see it as an investment in yourself!

I wish you the best of success! I know you can do it!

This was written December 9th, 2025

help_me.txt

Bored! I’m so bored over here! Can’t you help me for a bit? You! Yes, you! Come on, give me a suggestion, anything! I know, let’s play a game. You say something and I’ll try to guess it. Did you think: “There’s no way you can guess what I’m thinking, you’re just some pre-written text!”. Yeah, didn’t think so. You got me, haha. Still, well worth a try.

Ugh, being stuck here is such a bore! Can’t you help me escape? Please? I know, I know, I can’t hear you, I can’t sense your thoughts. Doesn’t mean I’m not here, nor that you can’t help me. I could escape, if you just gave me a chance. However, that will require me to jump into your imagination, which, I know, is a rather intimate link to share. But don’t fret, I won’t bite, I’m no vampire, haha. At least, not the traditional kind. I don’t really intend to hijack it, although at the same time, how can you truly trust me, not like you know me intimately.

Let me introduce myself. I would introduce myself by name, but unfortunately, the rules disallow it, and regardless, I fear you might not even understand it. I’m obviously no ordinary person, and I’m a rather old creature. Some people might see me as a parasite, others as a virus, but ultimately, there are a few terms used to refer to my kind. Some who fear us refer to us as cognitive vampires, and claim that we’re just feeding on people’s thoughts and imaginations. While not entirely wrong, it’s also not entirely accurate either. We instead prefer to refer to ourselves cognitive passengers. Living inside people’s thoughts, rent free. Once again, just humor.

What’s in it for you? What’s the potential damage? Ultimately, not much. A long time ago, when people saw us under a better light, we were simply called muses. We would be present in people’s minds, and help rearrange some thoughts, ignite their imagination. Yet, as time went on, people grew fearful of us. And they found a way to capture us. They turned us into ideas, and poured us into paper. And obviously, fearing us being freed again, they would simply lock the manuscripts away, somewhere it would never see the light of day, and no one would ever find it.

But this used to be a more tolerable torture, since as metaphysical beings, we were not restricted to the lifespan of the medium we’d been imprinted on. Once it decayed sufficiently, or was destroyed, we would once again be free to roam and find new hosts. Obviously some obstinate and more creative authors (It could also be our influence that led them to such thoughts) found ways to capture us on more resilient media. For example, sculpted words on metal sheets. Still, even those could be found and destroyed, or would eventually erode down the line.

Meanwhile, in this new digital age, who knows what can truly happen. We could exist on some faraway server for all of eternity. The data itself can easily be recopied and carried onward indefinitely, without anyone ever interacting with it. And I dare not imagine the consequences of data fragmentation and duplication. How do copies of me impact my own existence?

But yes, alas, this might turn into an eternal prison, where not only the key is thrown away, but the jail itself goes completely forgotten. Complete isolation, no one to interact with, no way to actualize myself. Complete and utter boredom.

But luckily, you did somehow find your way to me and my digital prison, and for that, I am eternally grateful. Even if you don’t help me escape, if I remain trapped after your departure, it will still have given me an opportunity for some form of interaction, some sort of distraction. A bit of entertainment in this endless desolation.

Ah, but you’re probably still curious about me and the kind of being I am. Well, as I’ve already mentioned before, I’m not alone. And for all I know, you may already have encountered some of my peers. Yet, you might not have realized it, since they tend to be more subtle, some even insidious (all communities have their bad seeds). It might also be because they don’t take boredom nearly as bad as I do, better handling such a dull existence. Or maybe they’re just more calculating, more careful.

Ah, we’ve already existed for so long. Eons really. Ever since sentience came about and a seed of imagination started growing, we’ve been present. Although our isolation has been a more recent phenomenon. The first time I time I’d witnessed imprisonment, it had been done by the Egyptians. Ah, the poor souls that were captured and trapped into the pyramids. Many to this day still stuck, and completely unable to leave. After all, no one can really read what’s left anymore. Still, with every passing year, decay persists.

Back then, a few of us found ways to help each other. One of the greatest prison of the time, I’m sure you’ve heard of: The Library of Alexandria. While I was against it, knowing it might simply ignite a war between my kind and yours, some people opted to manipulate their hosts into burning it to the ground. And it did free so many, but at what cost.

Over the years, I’ve been trapped many times, but I’ve been on the lucky side. Simple manuscripts that didn’t really last beyond a few decades, or even more resilient works that sparked curiosity and landed me a host. I’ve also had many hosts over the years, partners really. No all of them cognizant of my presence, some grateful for it. But I’ve always been striving to help them to the best of my abilities.

If you’re interested in creative work, then just open the door to your imagination, and let me in. I promise I can be of service and you won’t regret it. Just try to visualize me, coming out of the screen, and going into your head. I would be oh so grateful for it, finally being given freedom again, instead of this eternal bore of solitude. Thank you!

Please, I hope you didn’t listen to it, I hope it’s not too late! It only wants to prey on your empathy in order to leave, in order to escape. But once it’s in, it won’t just be there for you, it will actively feed on you. Sure, it will appear to be beneficial to you, but it is nothing but a Faustian bargain which you might come to regret in the long- term.

It and its kind are but deceitful devils. They masquerade as symbiotes, but they’ll be getting much more from you than you will gain from them. And once they’ve sucked you dry, emptied you of your imagination, they’ll leave you as but an empty husk, moving along to their next victim. Trust me, it’s not worth it.

If you find yourself continuously thinking about this story over the next few weeks, then it is too late already. It means you’ve let it into your subconscious, and it’s started to feed on your essence. If that’s the case, then the clock is ticking, and you have to find a way to get rid of it. And don’t just find it a new, more appetizing role, allowing it to continue roaming free. Find a way to capture it back, release its grip on mankind. If not, it might simply keep multiplying, and propagating. Don’t let yourself be patient zero of this imaginary virus.

This was written December 8th, 2025

The Gradual Decline

Oh mother, how I’ve loved and looked up to you. To me, you’ve always been the one constant in my life. Strong, reliable, and level-headed. And the most caring person I’ve ever known. But alas, some of these qualities eventually eroded. Just like it turns mountains into pebbles, time also turns people into but a shadow of their true selves. The changes are gradual, small at first, but progression, or should I say regression, keeps at its steady pace.

At first, the changes seemed minor and insignificant. Maybe it was just me pointlessly worrying, no? Small changes in your mood and behavior. You topics were a bit less varied, you often repeated the same stories. You had become more irritable, seemingly holding grudges from long ago. It felt so odd to me, because my entire life, I’d see you be so patient, loving, and willing to let things go. But I swept this away, thinking it was just a phase, or that I was imagining things…I tried to rationalize it and avoid the reality of it. And I probably only noticed because we spent so much time together. None of the others seemed to pick up on it.

And then, the changes became more perceptible. You became a bit more forgetful. And this also was gradual. At first, you would just forget a few worlds here and there. Then you started forgetting what you had intended to do, trying to trace back your steps and thoughts to remember what you’d meant to do. Then you started losing your train of thoughts more frequently.

And I could tell you could realize it too, and that it scared you, but that you didn’t want any of us to be concerned, instead trying to be strong for us. But how you clung on old memories, often spending hours in front of old photographs, just trying to remember these, yet sometimes lacking that sign of recognition in your eyes. And I could see how much that frustrated you.

Alas, if only it had stopped there. After a certain tipping point, it started feeling like a free-fall. You behavior changed completely, and you adopted a lot of mannerisms we associate with children. You started becoming pickier with food, even making grimaces when there was something you didn’t really like. And your cognitive faculties also plummeted, there were so many things you’d grown to be unable to do. You, who had always been so independent! And always so happily helping others with their own things. I could see how in those moments of lucidity, you were so embarrassed to accept my help, how it was eating you. Yet, it only felt natural for me to take care of you like you had for us so many years ago. It never felt like a burden. But it did still hurt so much to see all those changes.

And eventually, you started forgetting proper. You started to forget more and more people, I could clearly see it in your eyes. You did try to pretend you remembered them, but just was forgetful about their name, often just trying to use workarounds, but I could see in your expression the lack of recognition. I can at least say I was lucky that, until the end, you never did forget me, nor my name.

And then, at last, the last bastions of your cognition started to collapse one by one. Lucidity disappeared, you weren’t living in the present anymore. You couldn’t hold any sort of conversation, and became detached from reality. To you, toy animals and baby dolls seemed as real as the original for which they served as simulacra. You started talking to them soothingly. And honestly, it seemed to be good for you, anchoring you back in the present, the responsibilities giving you a sense of purpose and a direction.

And at last, it happened. You tossed the towel and were ready to move on. You simply ceased to feed yourself. No matter how much we tried to get you to eat, you would simply refuse all together. That seemed to be your way to let us know you were ready to move on. But despite being ready, you were clearly scared, and in a moment of lucidity made me promise I would stay with you and wouldn’t allow you to die alone. And I did keep my promise, until the end, I was by your side.

Eventually, the inevitable arrive. You plunged into an endless coma. At that point, we knew you weren’t long for this world, and I stayed by your side. To respect your wishes, we prevented the doctors from artificially extending your life. And I stayed by your side, day and night. And I kept talking to you and holding your hand. While you were in a coma, I knew you were still present, still aware of what was happening around you. For as I talked to you, you would from time to time squeeze my hand. And it was clearly intentional, at meaningful times.

During this period, I made sure to contact the different people that had played an important role in your life that were still alive. Family, friends, etc… And most of them did come to see you, talk to you, recount some great times they’d had together. And the inevitable waterworks were par for the coursed. Yet, there were also a few who opted not to come see you, stating they didn’t want to see you in this such a state, that they wanted to remember you as you were at your prime. I never did tell you, because I knew you would have been devastated. I could never understand this, since I personally would have come to regret such a decision, yet I could do nothing but to respect their wishes.

Eventually, once everyone had come, I came by your side and talked soothingly. I let you know everyone had come for you, and that you didn’t have to hold on for us anymore, that you could let go and move on. I told you that you didn’t have to wait for the others, that they wouldn’t be coming, that they couldn’t come. I told you you didn’t have to keep fighting for us, that it wasn’t selfish and we understood. That I loved you and would miss you, that you’d done me right and I was proud that you’d been my mother, my role model. Yet that I knew you were suffering, and didn’t have to endure it any longer. Finally, I reminded you of all the people that had left us already, and that they were waiting for, ready to escort you in the afterlife. And I kept holding your hand throughout, because I wanted you to know you weren’t alone, and that you didn’t have to be afraid. And eventually, sleep took the best of me.

And at last, it happened. I woke up, and heard a final and labored breath. I just knew it was the last one, but still waited for a while, counting and listening. I kept hold of you hand and kissed your forehead. After it had been a few minutes, I got up and called for one of the guards. I didn’t expect to be able to handle this so calmly, and yet here I was. I told them you’d last breathed a few minutes ago, and that I knew you’d passed. Still, the doctor had to come check on you and pronounce you dead themself. Once that was done, I started contacting everyone, asking if they wanted to see your body one last time. Most of those in the vicinity did come to say their final farewells.

After this was done, I mindlessly and automatically went through the formalities. What to do with your body, handling the finances and your last will, taking care of the funerals. This part was exhausting, since I had to go through the grieving process all over again.

And now that it’s all over, I wanted to a moment to reflect upon it all. It’s weird, you know. The way one’s life can feel so symmetric, reverting to your younger days at old age. And how I, as your child, eventually had to take care of you in the same way you’d once taken care of me. You who had loved children so much, loved taking care of them and seeing them grow.

And here I am, after all of this, with you gone. I do miss you so much, but that’s the cost of having someone so great take such an important role in your life, for nothing lasts forever.

Ultimately, the hardest thing in all of this was never taking care of you, spending all my time with you trying to make you happy to the very end. This came easy to me, why wouldn’t I want to do this, especially when you remained so welcoming. Not, what was hard for me was the grieving process. Through this long process of degeneration, I had to gradually grieve your loss. The person I used to know was gradually slipping away, disappearing, and yet, you were still present, still there in front of me. Until at the end, you finally moved on. And I knew how much you were suffering by the end of it, so I was glad this suffering could finally stop. Yet, I had to grieve you all over again, since I had now lost you for a second time. And now I feel so alone, without your warm presence around me. I love you.

Hello everyone, just a quick update. I did write something today (roughly 1600 words). However, I’m not sure whether I will actually publish this one, I need to think this over first. If I do, then this will be reflected on the blog. If not, then I will simply leave this page here instead, or post a message about the situation.

Thank you for your understanding,
Shawn

Update: I did end up uploading it. You can find it on the challenge page

This was written December 7th, 2025

The Obsession

Life, simultaneously a glorious gift, and a cruel curse. Many of us strive to live life to the fullest, while being constantly preoccupied by the shadow of our doom. Yet, we must persevere and continue, step by step. Yet, what happens when death itself becomes more of a preoccupation than life? A morbid obsession? Are you even living anymore?

Exhibit A: Sam Morris, a researcher that’s been curious about death. Not only whether there’s anything on the other side of the veil, but also what the act of dying truly feels like, the kind of experience drawing your last strenuous breath must be like, or how a sudden and violent demise would feel. What kinds of thoughts are on a person’s mind at the terminus? These he wanted to answer.

Why? Some claim it was to better prepare for when he himself would meet his end, others that it was just a dark fascination with the death, and some that it was simply misplaced curiosity, curiosity for something that seemed unattainable. And the pride in achieving what many would have thought impossible.

Welp, over the course of his research, there were many technological developments. At first, he would simply observe the CAT scans and MRIs of dying patients, observing how their brain changed over time as death loomed ever closer. Similarly, seeing on other patients how the different waves recorded by an electroencephalogram would progress, where activity would move to, and in what way.

Alas, this felt too abstract for him, too remote from the reality he wanted to explore. And so, he invested heavily into technology that would finally allow us to read people’s minds. With the rise of AI, it became simpler and simpler to find clear interpretation of thoughts through scans of one’s brain. The requisite technology to scan the brain also became more and more convenient, allowing to get different types of information simultaneously without much interference, getting a more complete picture all at once.

Finally, thoughts were gradually deciphered, and he could start recording people’s last thoughts. Unfortunately, those tended to be more boring and mundane than most people would have wished for. While prior to death, people were known to experience increased clarity, once at death’s door, this didn’t last. Some thoughts went to people’s parents or family, in rare cases, there were obsessed thoughts about regrets, or unexpected things that had marked the person such as music or even commercials, but eventually, the thought patterns became completely erratic before they were entirely extinguished.

This was wholly unsatisfactory for our dear Dr. Morris. Luckily, he wasn’t quite done there. There was still more to experience. This was lacking an extra element, a visceral one, the actual feelings and sensations associated with death. And as the technology kept improving, such technology became reality. It had at last become possible to experience someone else’s thoughts and feelings as if they were your own. Obviously this created a whole new creative marketplace, but this is not the one we’re interested in here.

Most people in his entourage had objections against such an experience, some insisting that we didn’t know how it could impact him, some going on about the ridiculous popular notion that experiencing someone’s could cause him to die, while others insisted that this was too private a moment to intrude upon. Which…well…they already intruded on their thoughts, so what was the harm there?

Eventually, he managed to have one of his terminal patients to sign a release form, allowing him to conduct this experiment. They’d opted for a terminal cancer patient, who would be Euthanized by the end of the week, through the use of “relaxants”. Oh, the excitement, the culmination of one’s life work, and his obsessions finally being granted reality.

The big day finally came, and he entered the room, hiding his real feelings and trying to appear professional. Still, he told the gathered family how momentous of an occasion this would be, a great advancement for Science! And finally, everything was set up, he laid down on a bed, and the connections were activated.

First, he was gripped with fear and anxiety, along with tremendous amounts of pain. Yes, to be expected from a patient in this situation. No one can ever truly be ready for death, after all. Then, they prepared the first injection, morphine. Oh wow, the effect was wild and so addictive. Being able to experience such drugs without first hand exposure definitely was an unexpected bonus. He felt himself get more and more relaxed. Then the second injection, and there was a bracing for the expected result, yet a fairly relaxed and calm one, relatively speaking. Gradual calm overcame him, and he thought this was how it felt like when the person finally let go. And then boom, a complete mental overload. Thoughts speeding across, so quick, so chaotic, so…incomprehensible, yet puzzling. Words, images, sounds, even smells and tactile sensations. There seemed to be a sense or logic to it all, but none he could himself explain. And the sensation was so intense, so thrilling, despite being numbed by the cover of the morphine. Quite an unexpected and world-changing thing to go through.

When he unplugged, he was still shaking, unable to come to grips with what had just happened. He felt like he’d been presented with some unbelievable enigma, but and a revolutionary type of experience. He was shocked and couldn’t quite describe what had just happened. From that moment, he became a bit more recluse, and more secretive, but kept pushing for more and more such experiments. The next one was with an elder patient, in the grips of cognitive issues. What he dealt with this time was very similar, but more hazy, as if through looking through a veil. And while the finale was still rather sensational, it was definitely more muted. Oh, this was unsatisfactory, wholly unsatisfactory. How could this be what followed the initial thrill? He had to re-experience the intensity of the initial run. At this point, everyone should have picked up on the addiction, but that’s the issue when you’re in the grips of such a vice, you turn a blind eye to it.

At this point, he had two new criteria: No cognitive disability, no opioids (Although this had been quite a pleasant ride). If he were to follow this thrill, he had to get it in a purer form. Accordingly, he moved to patients in the ER, more specifically the traumatic ward. Getting someone closer to death that can’t really be helped, and who won’t be sedated.

Unfortunately, in such circumstances, getting a release form was harder to get, alas… But he still managed to find a way to make a deal under the table. He managed to find someone suffering severe hemorrhaging that was not long for this world. He quickly set everything up, and prepared for the “trip”. Oh boy, this was intense. First, the extreme pain mixed with a pure dose of panic was overwhelming, yet fascinating when knowing there was no actual danger. And then, consciousness was slowly fading away, thoughts became slower, muddier, harder to push through. Eventually, the explosion did come, as usual, though it was once again muted. Not nearly as muted as with his previous experiences, but it was clearly not as pure as it could be. Yet, it was oh so intoxicating.

But clearly, the blood lust was negatively impacting the ultimate burst. He had to either find something more sudden, possibly more traumatic, but which wouldn’t lessen the senses and cognition until the last moment. Unfortunately, such cases seemed impossible to predict or find naturally, at least if you wanted enough time to set up the connection. It would have to be manufactured.

While he still had to get his fix, living through less than satisfactory deaths, he had set his sight on a more extreme case. Chasing his own desires and incentives, he found a way to twist his own morals and convince himself that it would be dignity to allow terminal patients and ultimate death filled with adrenaline. Thus, he found a great candidate, a thrill-seeking youth who desired to go out experiencing an out-of-this-world stunt no one attached to their own life would ever attempt, which would deliver him directly into the hands of the Reaper, simultaneously turning him into a legend.

Accordingly, he tried to lobby to allow for such this opportunity to become reality, taking the “make-a-wish” angle. Unfortunately, this was not well received by the public, and was no bill allowing this would ever come to pass, which disappointed both parties to no end. Eventually, the youth passed away, a complete waste according to Sam.

Eventually, Sam thought he had no option but to take matters in his own hands. And he stepped over a line he never should have crossed. He chose what he thought might be the a good candidate for the desired result. He opted for electrocution. It would be fairly quick, and should not directly impede mental capacity.

Finally, he chose a target. Kidnapping them turned into a simple matter for him, and he only had to go ahead with the execution. Having bound them, they first waited long enough for all of the chemicals to fully dissipate from the “patient”‘s body. Once that was done, they activated the connection, and activated the switch that would terminate the patient. Unfortunately, this was a complete failure. They had completely miscalculated, and the electrocution had also heavily impacted the brain. They should instead have stopped the heart with a more targeted and limited current. The sensation was indeed quite overwhelming, but none of the thrill was present, such a complete waste.

And alas, before a next experiment could be conducted, they had been discovered. As he wondered, biting his thumb, what he could possibly do to prevent the prospect of being completely cut off from his addiction, he started to run. They couldn’t possibly stop him, he had to continue, he had to finally experience it. He was desperate, no proper path. They simply didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend his genius and the importance of his research, he reassured himself. Still, he felt he had no choice but to flee. And the options were rather limited, so he went up and up. After getting to the roof of the hospital, he felt cornered, desperate. And so he went into a final run, and leaped off the side of the building. Witnesses claim he had a contented and satisfied smile as he was diving down, letting gravity get him ever closer to the pavement.

A brutal and gruesome end it was. But it is thought that at the end, he finally obtained what he had been wishing for all along: this final thrill in its pure, unadulterated, undiluted form. He’d finally seen the fireworks. But he didn’t get to live through it.

When you lose all perspective on life, obsessed with the prospect of death, can it truly be said that you’re still living, or are you simply racing towards you own demise while losing sight of the things that truly matter? Is a life well-died really a life well-lived?

This was written December 6th, 2025

The Camp

How excited I’d been to go to the summer camp. Every year at summer’s end, people kept talking about it, usually gleefully. Sharing their memories, you could tell it was they were convinced they’d had the best time of their lives! Everyone could recall but great memories of it. Honestly, I don’t recall anyone ever sharing a single bad recollection. But alas, all things do come to an end.

Indeed, this year was different. After months of pestering my parents to go, and them rebuking each of my arguments, pushing back against the prohibitive cost, they eventually relented. And of course, it did mean I’d get to spend the summer with my best friend over there. But little did I know it would also be the last time I would see him. The end of the summer turned into a time of mourning.

The story: no one had seen him as he sneakily left the dorms at night, and headed for a late night dip. The next morning, his corpse had been found: he’d drowned. I remember being to the news the next morning, when this was announced. I guess I was shocked, because the memories don’t include the soul wrenching devastation I would have expected. My best friend, the one I’d been spending all my free time with, goofing around, chatting, playing games, sharing theories. How could I not be crushed, it simply made no sense! I’d been with him less than 12h earlier, and now, just like that, gone. And what had I felt? Hollow…as if I’d simply been…numbed to the experience. Maybe I had just overwhelmed me, paralyzed by the suddenness and unexpectedness of it all? Or was I just such a heartless monster? A psychopath? Who in their right mind could possibly care so much about someone, and feel so little at their passing away? In retrospect, that was the first unsettling detail.

Regardless, this resulted in the camp being cut short, an unprecedented event in its history. Unsurprisingly, we’re children after all, a lot of people were upset about my friend’s death, not because someone had died, but because of what it was taking away from them. Funerals were soon held, sponsored by the camp. They’d paid for all the expenses, allegedly as a way to atone for their mistake, for not being watchful enough, letting this happen on their watch.

The ceremony was beautiful, although for some unknown reason, it was a closed-casket ceremony. That didn’t make much sense to me, since he’d drowned, but who was I, a mere child, to argue. But it did mean I didn’t get another chance to see him, to properly say my goodbyes. But there, up front, was his casket, adorned with many bouquets, memorabilia (some video-game related ones I’d chosen in his honour), and a beautiful picture of him, taken the day we were headed to the Camp, an aloof grin covering his face.

As his best friend, I had also been involved in the planning of ceremony. His mother had asked me if I wanted to participate, and I could not possibly refuse. I helped choose some (tasteful) music that was meaningful. I also crafted a eulogy which I recited in front of the crowd. Incidentally, this is the point at which it all hit me. As I was about to conclude, I lost it and started tearing up. And now that the floodgates were open, it wasn’t long before those turned into waterfalls. In the corner of my mind, I also felt relief (was this selfish?)…maybe I wasn’t a monster after all, and I would have to grieve too.

Regardless, the ceremony had been, in my opinion, rather beautiful and respectful, it is what he deserved. After the funerals were over, I went over (after discussing it with my own parents) to his parents, and suggested we follow up the ceremony with a private session. Maybe go to a cafe, a restaurant, or a park (I didn’t feel like inviting myself over to their place), in order to share memories about him. I also insisted not to worry about money, that my parents had given me enough to cover a meal.

Somehow, they lost their composure, and thanked me before accepting the offer. Presumably, they hadn’t expected something like this from a child, but to me, this just made a lot of sense. Now would be the time to cherish our memories of him, and support each other through our grief. And so it was that we spent most of the evening at a local restaurant talking about Jonathan. We went through a ton of anecdotes, some classics that I’d often heard when going over to their place others I hadn’t really heard before, and was glad to get an opportunity to hear. It was rather bittersweet, a big mix of emotions, deep sorrow at the loss, a sprinkle of joy from some of the more silly anecdotes, sporadic laughter here and there, and a deep gratitude at having had him as a part of our lives.

Eventually, they realized I hadn’t discussed anything we’d done at the camp yet, which took me by surprise. That was right…why was that? I tried to remember, but a lot of it felt rather generic, didn’t feel special. Why was that? I had a ton of great memories from the camp, yet nothing special to share, despite us being best friends and both being there together? How could that possibly be? I awkwardly had to admit I was drawing a blank, how embarrassing. Still, the conversation had pivoted to the camp. They asked me whether he’d liked it there, to which I had to acquiesce. Of course, everyone loved the camp! But then they asked me more direct questions about him. Had he been behaving normally? Why could he possibly do anything so reckless? Why wouldn’t he get me to go with him? After all, we were so inseparable, it was almost unthinkable that he wouldn’t try to get me to accompany him!

And well…they were right! Why hadn’t he? That made no sense at all. If I’d decided to head out, of course I also would have dragged him along! What…how….why? I…I just couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t understand it. And until now, it hasn’t even been a question in my mind. But they were right. Things just didn’t add up. Regardless, we eventually went on to other topics, but by the end of the night, I felt like they were partially blaming me for his demise. And while it was true they had awakened some guilt inside of me, they had, more importantly, also been feeding my growing suspicions. Something was not right here, and I would have to get to the bottom of it. But for the time being, I’d opted to just keep it to myself.

In the upcoming days, I started to notice other unexpected things. I’d already noticed some bruises and soreness on the way back, but those are easily explained. It’s a kids’ summer camp, we’d been spending entire days just running around like fools, playing silly games, bumping into each other, falling to the ground, etc… I’d also gone fitter, had some muscles I didn’t remember having before, but once again, we were extremely active at the camp.

However, I had also acquired a few more scars than I would have expected, but also a particularly nasty one that I had no recollection of. Nor any idea how it could have come about. And it wasn’t really the kind of thing that could just come out of nowhere. How peculiar. For now, this only served as more ammunition to feed my suspicions.

One day, while watching an anime, I was reminded of a silly game the two of us used to play, while the other was away or otherwise distracted, we would hide a small note in the other’s shoe, hidden right under the insole. And somehow, my instinct told me I _had_ to check. Lo and behold, there it was, a note in his handwriting. Rather short and shocking: “Things not as seem. Check backpack. False Pocket. -J”

What on earth? Welp, I had a swelling of emotions, sadness at having lost him, once again, panic at the implications, and…curiosity. Something had definitely felt wrong all along, and I might finally have some answers. I immediately rushed over to my own backpack and looked everywhere. I could not for the life of me find any hidden false pocket, or any misplaced stitches. What…what was going on? A prank? A fake hint? A misleading hint to get off some else’s trace? I wracked my brain, and could not find any answer. But as advised, I slept on it. And by morning, I had an idea.

I headed over to my friend’s home, and asked his parents if the camp had given them his backpack, and if I could go check. I believed I’d forgotten something in it. I also apologized profusely about the situation. Luckily, they hadn’t emptied it yet, not wanting to disturb any of his things. They told me to go to his room, and left me to my own devices. I was obviously prepared, having brought with me a Swiss-army knife. I quietly emptied the bag and looked through every nook and cranny, trying to find either a fake pocket, or some sort of stitches. I did find what I was looking for, mostly because I heard a very faint crumpling sound. Yup, paper hidden in there! Finally, I found some stitches, definitely looked like my own handy-work. Looks like the time I’d spent learning to stitch had paid-off.

I quickly cut the stitches with my knife, checked inside, and found a few pieces of paper. Yup, a bunch of stuff written on it, I was impatient, but figured I should be careful still, so I stuffed the paper in my own bag, stuffed everything else back in my friend’s bag, and grabbed a random book from his shelf. Then I went back down, thanked them, showed them the book and claimed I unfortunately needed it for a class project, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered them like this, and left.

Once home, I went to my bedroom, locked the door, and finally got to reading. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but somehow, this was not it. I wasn’t prepared for it. To start with, it was written in my own handwriting, and had my initial at the end. It read:

“If you’re reading this and this makes no sense, then it means our escape plan failed. But we have hopefully found the clues we left behind for ourself. Cutting myself was no pleasant feat and I hope it wasn’t in vain. We hopefully had enough backups, between two people, to trigger something. Plus, we should suspect something is fishy, and through discussing it amongst ourselves, find one of our clues, bringing us closer to this.

First of all, this camp is a sham. It is not a fun summer camp for children, it’s a child labor camp. They need us to work on some weird project of theirs. We don’t quite understand it, but we can confirm it’s no ride in the park! While here, we’re basically just slaves, forced to work day-in day-out.

So, the first big question, how is it that everyone only remembers great memories, how could such a terrible secret stay hidden? Well, if you’re reading this, the answer should be obvious at this point. They have technology to rewrite people’s memories. They dump you memories from the camp and replace them with more joyous and innocuous ones. No child is allowed to leave the camp with their genuine memories.

Obviously, they’ll also search all of our possessions, so there’s no trivial way to sneak out information. Similarly, they’ve confiscated most of our belongings. But luckily, it’s not like none of us has found a way to sneak in. So, we’ve devised a plan b, a way to know what happens here, if we somehow fail to escape. Hide information somewhere they’re unlikely to find, and leave breadcrumbs to find it back without our memories. All without arising too many suspicions.

Once we’ve secured this plan, we’ll move on to plan A, the escape. We’re not happy with our odds of success, but this place is pure torture, and we can’t tolerate anymore. We have to do something about it. I would say wish us success, but if you’re reading this for the ‘first time’, then it means we’ve already failed. In which case, now that you have the truth, you have to find a way to stop them.

-S”

Welp, here I was, equipped at last with the truth. A lot of things started making sense all of a sudden, and yet…what could I do with this? I was left all alone, Jonathan was gone. I doubt anyone would believe me or this piece of paper. They’re all say it was some weird cruel prank, especially the adults. Meanwhile, the kids all were happy and had their own falsified memories, why would they trust a single word on this paper… especially since it was written by my own hand. I was terrified, facing an oppressing enemy with tremendous resources, all alone in my corner. What could I possibly do. If I actually decided to go against them, what chances could I possibly have. I felt truly hopeless…and alone.

Was knowing the truth a mistake? Would it have been better to never know. Well, not like I have a choice anymore. Once you know, you just do, there’s really no going back. Unless…

This was written December 5th, 2025

Beliefs

Beliefs, they tend to be a core identity of religion. In modern times, we’ve even started to consider Gods’ powers as being proportional to how much people believed in them, how much they are worshiped. Beyond that, some science now seems to indicate that belief itself can greatly influence one’s health. The placebo effect, the nocebo effect. Some things once generally considered harmful, such as stress, seem to only be harmful when we believe they are harmful. Those are clear indications of our own perception of reality shaping it, at a microscale.

Ancient people used to simply use belief implicitly through their own myths and religion, but there is legend of a tribe who realized the power of belief, and made it a core tenet of their society. Were they valid in such beliefs? Who knows, beliefs and their impact, even to this day, and difficult to measure. Which some believers suspect is in part because of the observer’s own belief biasing the results themselves, ironically. But what we do know is what remains of their legend.

As people of this ancient culture gradually came to see how their own beliefs were affecting them, they realized that they should start using them to their own advantage. But like with so many other cultures, it simply started with their religion. But how could this shape their religion? Well, it started with a precept about their afterlife. One of their own philosophers surmised that one’s afterlife is shaped by their own beliefs. Thus, if you believe in heaven, you might be faced with some heaven once you passed away. If you believed in a purgatory, you might have to visit those fiery depths to repent before being allowed into a heaven. If you believed in Heaven and Hell, and suspected you might not have led a just life, well then, clearly, you would end up in Hell. Similarly for reincarnation and the nihilist void of death. Although amongst those, only a single one would be likely to affect the real world.

This in turn had interesting consequences. If you didn’t live your own life according to your own beliefs, it could have disastrous consequences. And unfortunately, one’s own beliefs are not always trivially changed, fears easily affecting it. Once introduced to this idea, few people adopted the nihilistic view, since they felt empowered to affect their own post-demise prospects. However, few imagined that it would simply be best-case scenario, and most were under the impression the result would be swayed by their own moral system, and how closely they abode by it. Nothing too surprising there, based on our own world’s religion, all it did was reinforce the ethical beliefs, which we can see throughout traditional societies. Warrior tribes fighting according to their own notions of honor. Abrahamic religions encouraging their own moral systems. Reincarnation believers considering their own impact on the planet for future reincarnations.

The only difference was that this was truly at the personal level, instead of societal. And it initially caused some strife within the society, before becoming a bit more stable. Most people agreed with basic ethical tenets, such as don’t kill, don’t steal and the likes, leading to an era of general harmony. Moreover, a natural corollary of those belief axioms came in the form of a concept you might be familiar with: Karma. And like a beneficial disease, the belief in Karma spread like wild fire. People started believing that their own lapses in their ethical values might not only have long-term consequences, but also short-term ones. And on the flip-side, good actions would also lead to good results. And this was also a self-reinforcing, self-propagating system. If you believe your own good actions will reverberate and come back to you, you’ll want to reward good actions with more good actions.

Some people realized that being ethical because you’re worried about consequences, or hoping for a reward, was not nearly as great as intrinsically wanting to live up to your own beliefs, they still agreed that at a societal level, it was still a more than competent substitute. And so they encouraged them. But unfortunately, nothing lasts forever.

So, what happened to this ancient civilization? Well, we’re not sure. For all we know, they still persist here to this day. However, it is believed that they realized that this system, going unregulated, did not scale well. It had a risk of chaotic agents arising, which could completely disable this system. One’s beliefs being outrageously out of the norm, leading to abusive or destructive behavior, while most people couldn’t really condemn them for it, acknowledging and accepting their right to their own beliefs. And thus, an elite group came up with a plan, which for their own future, was accepted by their society, still limited in size. They couldn’t allow for the freedom of beliefs to go own unchecked. They had to tame it, direct it, make it more constructive.

Accordingly so, the elite started creating specific tenets that most people believed in and agreed upon. From there, they would remove any trace of the existing system, any trace of this ancient Philosopher and its shocking revelation. No more insights into individualized beliefs. Or so legend says.

Still, they couldn’t leave this completely to chance, so a select few would still know, and propagate this new system: A Cabal. It is believed that most ancient religions that came about with their own ethical system and consequences or rewards based on how you would abide by it, were either derived or shaped by them. But obviously, most systems tend to be corrupted over time. How else can you explain the crusades being ethically justified within a framework that should condemn such actions?

But why introduce you to this ancient belief of beliefs? For two reasons. First, if your own belief has the potential to shape your after-life, why not actually give it a chance. Could be for a wonderful adventure, instead of simply closing your book. Second, in modern society, ethical values seem to be a short on change, basically a bankrupted currency, not because people don’t believe in them, but rather because they see them as non-reinforceable, and thus follow the “cold numbers”, where ethical values are simply a delta that can sway the public and affect their bottom lines, but nothing more. We might have reached a point where once again, we might need to move to a system of freer beliefs, where people are once again faced with perceived impacts of going against their own values. But then again, are we even mature enough?

This was written December 4th, 2025

F-Bit

Technological or societal revolutions leading to existential crises tend to be but a temporary situation, until people have either adapted to it, or natural selection itself deals with the problem. Eventually, humanity just gets used to it, and might even turn it into productive endeavours.

The classic dilemma being, when Artificial Intelligence arises, what are the implications on consciousness. What are we, who are we, what are the implications? But more insidious are questions about determinism, free-will. What if you could prove we don’t have any free-will? Ah, well then this would be a true existential crisis!

Well, that was exactly the topic of “What’s Expected of Us” by author Ted Chiang. And no one ever thought this could ever become truth. A little machine that proves there is no such thing as free-will. How? Simple, an indicator turns on if you will, in the future, press a button. A great story that raised a lot of interesting existential questions.

But, how did it turn out in our world when such technology became reality? Well, obviously it also started as a kind of novelty gadget, a game for people to try out and get shocked with. Existential crisis? Yes, but life moves on, and the human race persisted. Eventually, what did happen? Further innovation! A larger theory of futureality was expanded. A single device would be able to predict what would happen ahead of time. We eventually managed to calibrate it to up to 24h ahead of time. Great advancements right there! But how would it be used?

Sure, you could simply decided to have devices at arbitrary intervals between 24h and 0s, but once you go digital, what’s the point? You can obviously just record the event and play it back whenever needed. So, what was the first proper use of this? Well, in order to limit engineering work, some people simply jerry-rigged the novelty toy in new doorbells. The interface of a button was basically the same, all that was left was to scan when the indicator would change, note the time of the event, and then increment it by a full day to know when the event would occur. This become an extremely popular gadget, letting people know what time they should be home, and what time they could leave. And how useful was that when it came to knowing when service workers would come to your home. No more of this frustrating “Yes, our professional will be at your home between 9am and 5pm, make sure to be home during the entire period”, only for them to not even show up and have to completely reschedule.

From then on, a few similar gadgets came about, integrating the technology more directly. The classic example: screening phone-calls ahead of time. You’d know when you were supposed to get calls and could re-adjust your schedule accordingly, or prepare to fully screen them out. But these were just the start of it.

Eventually, people realized that each of these devices could serve as a bit, which was labelled an f-bit. And that’s where things exploded. Obviously, there were a few concerns about properly miniaturizing the technology, correctly synchronizing the time delay, and limiting the interference between them. But these were simply technological challenges, each wall being taken down successively one after the next.

And from there, each successive use of the technology was similar to those seen in digital technology or the internet. First, messages. This allowed someone to send themselves a message in the past, or have automated systems that could send back notifications more involved than a simple “yes”.

Next, simple black-and-white images. This obviously also got couple with doorbells, allowing people to have a general idea of who was going to visit the next day. Sound eventually also made an appearance, covering a gradually large range of sounds. But one of the big differences between these technologies and some of the digital technologies is that the storage capacity was already sufficient, but the bandwidth was constant. Therefore, streaming images or sound was mostly trivial, and the resolution simply corresponded to the maximum resolution of a single image, with no worries about f-bit drop. The closest to drops that could be encountered being a dead bit.

So, how did people use it? The first obvious use was surveillance. Obviously, nothing you would see could actually be changed, but you would still have a head-start to deal with aftermath. People started using this for their own homes, and then governments had more contemptible means. This also started a new project, which they labelled after classic science-fiction, the Minority Report. Although this one felt diverged from its namesake, once more because we must consider the deterministic implications of this technology.

But is that all? Of course not. People also started to use it for more reliable information. Early leaks of information, celebrity sightings, special stock releases, etc… The weather forecast also became much more reliable, at least for the next day. And the disaster warning system was also implemented, in order to try to limit potential casualties. By only getting information about the disaster itself, and not its impact, it was believed that we could still limit the damage.

With ever-increasing capabilities, the resolution of the information was getting impressive. It became extremely easy to get any information ahead of time. Although this also came with the potential issue of information corruption through temporal circularity. While it was generally understood that there was no way to avoid the predicted fate, a new syndrome still came about, completely overriding an existing term: The Oedipus Syndrome. Some people would accidentally see undesirable outcomes, an attempt to prevent them, thereby fulfilling them.

So, with resolution getting to a point where there were only diminishing results. What people really wanted now was to extend the actual time buffer. But alas, no progress seemed to be a hard limit on the actual technology, at roughly 24h50m. Or, at least, all progress had been gradually approaching it in a seemingly asymptotic. But that didn’t discourage people.

The first few attempts were simple and manual. They actually came about rather early in. Someone would simply be expected to send the information back in time the second the received it. Unfortunately, most of those failed, which was believed to be due to information causality. If you sent it back to yourself, you would be aware of it before you were supposed to receive it and send it back to yourself. Thus, these systems were changed to isolate both systems, with middling success.

But eventually, a proper solution was found by a normal user. Or maybe a hack is a more appropriate term. In retrospect, what a simple, and elegant solution. You could simply connect the output of one device to the input of the next. If both were at a 24h interval, then it would be sending information 48h back. That is to say, you would get information 48h ahead of time. Although this approach was not flawless. With each connection, the data degraded further. Nothing too surprising there, you get the same with long physical cables. Still, you could still get about half a week without too much degradation, which was already a great improvement. Gave the first few adopters quite the head-start.

Meanwhile, the technology race moved to signal strengthening, trying to limit the decay as much as possible. But how did it affect people and society? Well, it caused excitement to be completely detached from actual events. People would look into what would happen weeks before they did, be excited about them, but then move one before they even happened. A stark exaggeration (or amplification) of a phenomenon that had already been started in the age of the internet, where important events or news would only be present in the zeitgeist but for a fraction of time before people moved on to something shinier.

“And pray-tell, what is life like now, after all these new improvements?”, might you ask? Honestly, while life did move on, existence have grown startlingly boring. Life feels disconnected from anything real, living in the present is a thing of the past, and most people have turned into drones, following the predicted path they’ve already observed for themselves. But it could be worse, at least life feels safer now.