Author: shawnmeanders

This was written December 17th, 2025

Excerpt from The Guide to the Compendium (Formerly known as the Multiverse)

Introduction by S.M. Hamilton:

As is common knowledge nowadays, it is rather ironic how, prior to the reform, they were still so close to having adequate nomenclature to what they used to label as the Multiverse, yet it ultimately fell short. Their vision of the Multiverse was, in truth, both idealistic and limited. The parallels and association with poetry should already have been clear. Now, let us dive a bit further into our glossary.

First, we note how we’ve kept the term “Universe”, which felt rather adequate. That is a single and distinct entity, which some also simply call a ‘Verse. Now, what about a collection of Universes? Well, we used to think there was a single collection of universes, that it was simply all universes together. The term was labelled as the “Multiverse”. But this is a bit too narrow of a terminology. Ultimately, from any Universe, we can expect one of two potential options. Either this universe is materially isolated, or it is, in some way, capable of transferring matter to at least one other Universe. (Yes, we accept that ultimately, this is indistinguishable from both Universes not intersecting and identical matter spontaneously disappearing in one and appearing in the other, as first proposed by N.L. Gauss).

For the complete chain of universes that can exchange matter, we label this collection as a Stanza, a collection of ‘Verses directly connected to one-another. Accordingly, from any Universe, it would be impossible to ever a Universe outside of its own Stanza. Reminder that testing whether two Universes belong to the same Stanza is an equivalence relation: It must, by definition, respect reflexivity, symmetry and transition.

However, we do not enforce any of those properties in the actual travel between universes (except for, vacuously, for reflexivity). Thus, it could be completely possible for universes S₁, S₂ in Stanza S to be such that you can go from S₁ to S₂, but not from S₂ to S₁. Similarly, since we only require existence of this property, it doesn’t need to hold for all time, thus potentially breaking transition. Accordingly, from a single Universe’s point of view, a Stanza represents a super-set of all the Universes that could ever be reached (including through n-Universe-jumps, with n>1).

By definition, no Universe in a Stanza can exchange matter with any universe in another Stanza (No two Stanzas exchange matter). However, Universes in one Stanza could still exchange information with a Universe from another Stanza. (The mechanics of which are not necessarily intuitive, considering the Matter-Energy Equivalency). The closure of such Stanzas is what we call a Poem, a collection of related Stanzas that share a similar theme, the same set of information.

Ultimately, from the point of view of a single Universe U, the Poem it belongs to, P(U), represents a superset of all Universes it could ever get news from, or that could ever get news about U. The same properties hold for a Poem as for a Stanza and we shall therefore defer such considerations to the reader.

In the end, any Universe existing outside of one’s Poem is one that could never be interacted with or detected. Accordingly, those are rather uninteresting, and their existence is irrelevant. We could not distinguish whether such Universes exist or not. But ultimately, we still have a term for the collection of all Universes (all Stanzas, all Poems), we call it the Compendium, or sometimes the Poem Compendium. It is what once was simply referred to as the Multiverse.

Now, these serve as a base for our Nomenclature, but are by no means the only terms we’ll consider. In the first few chapters, we’ll discuss some of more useful considerations than impractical supersets. Still, these terms will be necessary for the upcoming discussions, and should serve as a good base for any discussion about the Compendium.

For more…

This was written December 16th, 2025

Wishful Thinking

What if you could have one chance? One chance to fix one of your largest blunders. Or one chance to prevent a tragedy. No matter which one it was. What would you do? Would you change your past trajectory to try and become wealthier? Would you save a life? Would you go from utilitarian principles and avert a world-class tragedy, such as 911? It’s hard to say what the best answer could really be, morally or otherwise. After all, we don’t have the necessary insights to understand the consequences of such actions.

What are the implications of such a decision 10 years down the line? What about 50 years? A century down? Hard to say, really. After all, without some tragedies, some insights and perspective may be lost, offering disastrous long-term results.

Well, it turns out there is one class of people with insights into such concerns: Genies. After all, they’ve been going around granting people wishes for millennia, and they’ve been able to see the results, and the impact of those results. Sure, most wishes tend to play out on the short-term, but that’s not always been the case. After all, regrets tend to be tied with your life decisions, and thus relate back to your childhood. A few decades’ impact is not too uncommon.

But ultimately, this ties back with a Genie’s greatest tragedy, let’s explore this. There is an old legend passed around within the Genie communities. After all, while they go unsummoned, they’re not simply dormant in a lamp. Rather, they’re interacting with one another.

So the story goes:

‘Long ago, a depressed youth stumbled upon one of us. The Genie in question was none other than Salam, whom is known to be the most compassionate amongst us. Seeing this young one, the Genie first announced the classic rules, and offered to proffer him three wishes.

‘But the youth proclaimed “Oh dear Genie, how glad I would be to have stumbled upon thee, were I to truly need a wish. Alas, I am in no need, and I worry I would simply cause more grief from such use. You can tell of my misery, but I assure you, it is not from want. I lead what should be a happy life, all of my material needs are met, and I have people around me to support me. But alas, I can’t help but feel it matter not how much I try, all I choose turns to grief. My intentions count for little, for all I do turns to pain. I keep seeing how my actions and words turn people to sadness, and no longer can I bear it.”

‘Instantaneously, Salam felt overwhelming attachment to this one. But he could tell he was taking too much responsibility upon himself, blaming himself for what he had very little control over. Taking personally any grief that would strike others, believing the the source of such despair to be their own. Bearing a cross of his own making, burden that was never his to take, yet without alleviating others’. He was pained at this, yet knew there was little he could do to help.

‘One day, the boy came and exclaimed: “Oh, Genie, I know, I know. I think I know how to help others. Please, I wish for a steady source of income, such that I may use it to assist others!”.

‘And while the Genie knew that material gains could do nothing to lessen the burden, he could but acquiesce and grant the wish. From then on, the youth decided to use this wealth to treat his family and friends. He also used the wealth to start a few charities. Yet, no none of the results were as he hoped.

‘Eventually, the youth expressed his dismay: “Oh, Genie, I’ve been trying so hard on these charities to try to help others, and yet, no matter what I do, these people still seem so miserable. It seems like the more I help, the more pain I must witness. I feel like a drop in the ocean, and people have come to rely on me and stop putting in the effort themselves. Similarly, the help I began to offer friends and family was once seen as an unexpected boon, which they appreciated, yet now, is is seen as an expectation. They just assume they have it, and even want more from it than they once had. I feel I can’t withdraw any of it from them, yet they seem worse off than they used to be.”

‘Obviously, the Genie knew that part of the issues were that the boy had not surrounded himself with the right kind of person, and that he had chosen the wrong allies, that his approach to the charities was far from optimal, simply giving away without helping the people build themselves back up. Causing dependence without providing growth. Yet, it was not his place to share.

‘One day, the youth came back and expressed: “Oh, Genie, I finally have it. I know the solution, I know it! It was so simple, I should have known it! I wish I could take away some of people’s pain and take it upon myself!”

‘And right away, Salam knew how bad this would be, he knew this would not end well. Yet, it was not his place to say anything, and he granted the wish as he must. Initially, it seemed to work, and the youth was strong, for he had already spent his life bearing more than he should. Yet, he was already too empathic, and sensitive. Therefore, even the smallest signs of pain on other people’s faces would be too much for his to bear.

‘And so, one day he finally came back, with a heart much heavier: “Oh Genie, how could this be. I keep trying to drain the pain away, yet it still accumulates. No matter how much I take upon myself, they still get unhappy, I still hurt them, annoy them, make their lives worse. Why, but why must it be so? No matter what I try, the results are constant: Pain, sorrow and suffering. I can bear it no more. This pain I’ve now taken is so overwhelming, and the effect it has upon others so insignificant. It’s too much.”

‘And the Genie understood the youth was doomed to a life of sorrow, caring more about others’ happiness than his own. His heart would get broken over and over again, either from being used, or simply for misinterpreting the sources of sorrow. His heart was in the right place, his intentions pure, yet no one had the strength necessary for such an existence. It pained and saddened Salam, yet, there was nought he could do.

‘One day, the youth came, weary as never before, and he expressed his final wish: “Oh, Genie, it truly his too much. And after much contemplation, I’ve realized what the true issue was. The common thread amongst all of those people is me, and no matter what I do, no matter how I try to improve myself, no matter my intentions, all I cause is grief. I need to erase myself, yet that’s not enough. I’ve already caused so much pain, and that also much be taken away. Here is my final wish: I wish I’d never existed”.

‘At that, Salam was taken aback, never had he expected such a wish. And he was struck with great sorrow, at having seen such pain grow and accumulate upon his young companion, upon seeing how it had broken him, and upon seeing how it had pushed him to his limit. Yet, this was dwarfed by the impact of the wish itself, for the young master, despite his good intentions, was obviously misguided. No, I’m not just talking about how his disappearance would not solve anything he hoped to resolve. I’m talking about the what Salam had to do as a consequence of the wish. See, based on the rules under which Genies live, the existing timeline must be destroyed in order for the wished upon one to exist.

‘Therefore, Salam had to commit genocide and reset this timeline to an earlier period. He felt the death of each and every being in the world. While a copy of many of them would persist in the new version, they would not be quite the same, they would lead completely different lives, and therefore, would be completely different individuals. For all intents and purposes, they were now dead. As for most people conceived after that point, what humans call the Butterfly Effect ensure they would never be born. Other people might take their place, but they would never exist.

‘The youth had effectively voided the existence of countless people, forcing Salam to cause first-hand the greatest tragedy he had encountered so far. And knowing how noble (yet misguided) he had attempted to be just made it all the worst, for Salam could not find it in himself to hate him, nor resent him. Instead, he missed him, and saw it as a personal failure, and it ultimately broke him.

Ultimately, little is known about how this timeline changed from the original, nor how many further changes might have occurred since. It is said that most of the timeline has been rewritten through countless other such tragedies, which pushed Genies to the brink. Ultimately, the Genies, horrified by such tragedies, found ways to become more secluded and less active, finding loopholes in their whole laws to distance themselves from humanity and in order to prevent such tragedy.

This would be the reason no one encounters Genies in modern days, nor have they been heard of since times long gone, instead being creatures found only in myths of old.

This was written December 15th, 2025

Dark Reflections

“Hey guys, can someone pass the salt?”, I asked, simply.

“Anyone, please? It’s a bit too far for me.”, I insisted. “Jay?”

“Yes?”, he at last replied.

“Could you please pass the salt? It’s just out of my reach”, I once more asked, somewhat disappointed my inquiry had hitherto gone unnoticed.

“Sure, here you go.” “Thanks mate!”

Then, I simply sat quietly for the rest of the meal, patiently listening to the conversation between the others, at time also commenting, though usually just a few simple remarks.

Once dinner completed, everyone went off their own way, and I simply had to head back on my own. It was ok, I was simply going to be able to read my book, alone, on the way home. This new one was rather captivating, a classic superhero story set in a fantastical world. A hero I felt I could identify with, and whom I envied. If only I also was special, had super powers. The classic Super Strength would be enough, though maybe flying could be cool, or, oohhhh, having super speed! I could easily see it, being able to help others, and the respect/attention I might finally…

Bam! I missed a step and fell hard on the escalator! Scrapped by hand really bad and was bleeding….shouldn’t have been daydreaming, while simultaneously reading and walking. I couldn’t help but to yelp at the pain and scream…a bit embarrassing. Yet no one helped, or even seemed to notice. Someone even bumped into me and then moved quickly on, as if nothing had happened.

“Ouch, could anyone help? Could I get a tissue or something please?” I asked. Yet not a soul paid attention. Well…not too surprising. Even at home, when I injured myself, no one seemed to notice or care. I sometimes feel I could die and people would only notice once the smell became unbearable…

Ah well, I still had to take care of it. I went into the nearest restroom to wash the wound as cleanly as I could, wouldn’t want to get this infected. And welp, what else could I do but to cover it in toilet paper, and hope the bleeding would end shortly. Otherwise, I’d just take care of it once I got home.

Eventually, I put my hand in my pocket and noticed something unexpected, a small calling card. Well, I say calling card, but there was no number. It had a weird logo pulled straight out of a comic book, and the caption: “Feel Powerless? Wait no more! Come to this address”.

Interesting, how had this even gotten there? I wasn’t sure, yet I felt…not validated, but noticed. A strange feeling that made me feel…relieved, this strange kind of feeling where you want to cry, yet are feeling happy. Definitely mysterious…but also definitely appealing.

Then again, for all I knew, I might get my organs harvested going to such a mysterious address. But…if they really wanted to steal organs from people, I’m sure there’d be way less convoluted options than this. Well…not like I had any plans this day, so I might as well head there.

I made a big detour, all the while thinking about what this might be. Was this some sort of support group? Maybe I’d get to meet peers that were also dealing with such situations. Or maybe it was a secret, underground organization, and they’d deemed me worthy. Ah yes, a classic set up for a comic book or spy thriller. Maybe I, too, would play the role of the loser finally brought out into the spotlight. Raised from those ashes of pity.

Yes, right, I wasn’t popular, I wasn’t anything special, maybe now would be my reckoning, haha, hehe. Yeah, I’d get to live my fantasies at last! Well…here I was, lost in fantasies, as usual. Maybe that was why I was a loser, couldn’t even consider reality. Still, I was so busy considering a rather unlike fantasy, so excited I couldn’t even read or distract myself on my way to this strange venue.

Eventually, I arrived at a shabby looking apartment building. Double-checked the address, yup, this was definitely it. Well, definitely suspicious, not glamorous at all. Yet, I’d come all the way here…I should still go in…shouldn’t I? I…nervously convinced myself I might as well go. I didn’t have anything to lose…did I?

Ok, deep breath, you can do it. 3…2…1…Go! And so I marched on and headed to the front door. It was unlocked. According to the card, the meeting place was in the basement. Although it had no number. I descended the stairs and saw there was only a single door. According to the card, I should simply ring the buzzer. I ringed it once, and waited. Nothing. Ringed it a second time and still nothing. I was getting extremely nervous, starting to second doubt myself. Should I head out? What was I getting myself into? What was I thinking? Maybe this had been a truly bad idea. Yet, here I was. Though…maybe no one was home, maybe I’d just turn around, walk out, get home, and just laugh…

And then the door slowly opened, and I was greeted by someone in a suit, buff and somewhat intimidating, that simply told me to go in. Had I passed but the threshold that they immediately shut the door behind me. Tha-thump, tha-thump. My heart was racing, stress levels reached new highs. Still, I tried to look cool and in control, and marched on. Inside was a dark and smoky area, lit by a single dim overhead light, and a round table. On my side was a single chair, pulled so I could sit. Across the table was a middle-aged man wearing tinted glasses.

“Come in, sit down, sit down. No need to be nervous. Please, also take off your jacket. Feel free to hand it over to Greg over there.”, the man said.

Well, at least the man seemed calmed and friendly. He might succeed in putting me at ease. I accepted the offer, took us my jacket, handed it to the man still standing behind me, and took a seat.

“Well, I’m rather pleased to see that you’ve accepted my offer. Rare are those that are both curious and ballsy enough to take it upon them to head over here. What more, according to my associates, you barely hesitated, no time wasted, headed here straight away.”, he stated, immediately going to business.

Well, that was rather…intimidating. I had been…under observation? Who were these people, and what did they want with me? I…what was I doing?

He clearly saw the panic in my eyes, for when he next addressed me, he was attempting to soothe my worries.

“Oh, don’t worry, nothing sinister at play. It’s not like we’ve been following you for weeks or anything. Extensively researching you or anything. When we identify a candidate, we don’t waste such time, we simply go ahead and pass on the offer. However, we are always curious as to how a candidate initially reacts. And that has been relayed to me.” he said matter-of-factly.

“Well, enough foreplay, I’m sure you’re curious what all of this is about, right? Well, let us wait no more and dive into it. But first, a story:

‘Long ago, in the long ago era of twenty years past, a young man who simply wanted to help other had gradually been losing hope in humanity. He kept looking around, yet all he saw was misery, accompanied by uncaring people. Yet, instead of taking things into his own hands to try to help others, starting a community or an organization, he wallowed in this pity.

‘Eventually, he opted to travel the world, see whether things were better elsewhere. Yet, he simply saw more and more of the uncaring nature of humanity, it’s disregard for both others humans and the planet at large. Or maybe he simply saw what he wanted to see. This made him more and more jaded, blinded him to acts of selflessness that could still be witnessed if you looked close enough.

‘In his misguided quest to help humanity, he sought answers from the past, and eventually found some ancient legends of mystical powers that could bring about peace and destruction, depending on how they came to be wielded. He eventually built crew and an expedition was set into motion. They traveled for a few years before at last finding the desired artifact. The once young man was now well into his thirties, and desperate for an answer. Ancient readings covered the temple where it was seen, but the man, too impatient, eagerly ran ahead to it to observe it first hand. Presumably, there were warnings he should have heeded, but he was too foolish. Immediately had he laid eyes on this ancient relic which he’d been so impassioned to find, that he felt emboldened to take action.

‘But no sooner had his fingers brushed its surface that a blinding light emanated from it, along with a deep, resounding noise, both overwhelming his senses. Once the light had dissipated and the volume attenuated, he realized he was now alone. What more, he didn’t see quite as clearly anymore. Still, it was enough to see the tragedy. Where his partners had once been, piles of ashes now lain. Turns out, the activation had required a sacrifice. Yet, it had worked, something had changed. Yet, he still had trials ahead of him. For starters, he had to find a way back to civilization, now that he was alone. Moreover, the eyesight degradation did not stop there. A few weeks later, already he’d gone completely blind.

‘Yet, with his quest was now complete, and he was faced with a mixture of accomplishment and sorrow for his lost crew and friends. He had to admit that, losing sight was a fitting sacrifice, considering…

‘Still, he managed to eventually make it back, and was now able to enact more specific plans. And gradually, possibly through his own handicap, he’d realized the error of his way, gradually seen there was still care in this world, cooperation was still alive, albeit at a smaller scope than he’d wished for.

‘But, what was it he acquired through his quest? Well, he wasn’t exactly sure himself, but according to the legends, it was a boon from the Gods. Turns out, this was a mistranslation, it was actually the ability to grant boons. Unique ones, different for each recipient, and a reflection of their deepest themselves.

‘He discovered this by accident, when one late evening, in the tavern of a small, distant village, someone had held his hand to help guide him, and he’d felt something special. He tried to focus deeply, and started to feel something weird, almost a vision, filled with strange colors. Although he couldn’t comprehend it, he kept pushing, and eventually, something clicked, and it was as if he’d unlocked something.

‘Unfortunately, this had turned into a grave mistake, the biggest this person had ever made. Turns out this woman had a darker side than it seemed. But it did teach the man about his new power, and that he had to use it carefully.

It should not surprise you to hear that I am the man of this story, and that this power is why you’re here.”

“So…what happened to the woman?”, I asked, incredulously.

“This, I shall not reveal, as it is a deep regret of mine. Let us instead move the focus to you.”, he said in response.

“Me?”

“Yes, of course. Now that you’ve heard the story, the obvious question becomes: Would you be interested in receiving a power from me? Obviously, I can’t guarantee what you’ll get, I don’t choose the power, nor do you, at least not consciously.”, he replied.

“Well….it’s a rather tempting offer…but, what must I give in exchange? What’s the cost? It’s not like I’m rich or anything…and I’m sure you know it! So, where’s the sacrifice in this Faustian bargain?”, I tried to respond coolly, though I doubt I managed to keep my calm. I was too excited, I might finally get the chance to become a super hero!

“Well…nothing of the sort. For a while, due to how jaded I’d become, I did consider simply offering powers to the highest bidder, as a pure source of income, but realized this would be an awful idea. My goal was to make the world a better place, not a more chaotic one. I’d already made a huge mistake with my ability to bestow gifts upon others, might as well not further squander it. No, instead, I simply ask for you hand in helping us make the world a better place. One of us has a really good feeling about you, and I trust his judgement. No catch, just try your best, and join us if you can. If not, then you can walk away, and obviously keep whatever boom you’re granted, though I strongly doubt you would do such a thing. Not after we open your eyes to the current situation.”, was his rebuke. Well, this was making it quite a tempting offer…too real to be true, honestly. Either there was a catch, or this was some cruel prank played on me, right?

“Sure, but first, let me ask you a few question, if that’s ok.”, I tried to negotiate.

“Go ahead, I’m a mostly open-book. Some questions might be off-limits, but we won’t hold them against you.”

“Ok, let’s start with the obvious. What kind of power did you grant yourself?”

“Hahahahahah!”, he burst out laughing, incomprehensibly. After a moment, he calmed down a bit, raise his head and stated: “You didn’t expect I would possibly also be able to grant myself powers, did you? This is it, I’m like a genie, granting others their wishes, but unable to grant their own wishes. But honestly, I don’t mind it. Especially considering how much I’ve foolishly sacrificed. I truly don’t deserve my own power.”

“Ok, then what does your organization do?”, I followed up with.

“Ah, yes, of course you’d want to know that. Unfortunately, we can’t reveal too much if we’re not sure you’ll accept. Just know that we’re trying to better the world, and that I strongly doubt you’d regret joining us.”, was all he gave me.

“Well…not much of an answer, but I reckon I’ll have to accept it. Well then, last question: How do we initiate the process, and is there a metaphysical cost. A tradeoff for the powers? Similar to how you had to lose sight?”, I finally asked.

“Haha, well isn’t that technically two main questions? But no, no such cost. The sacrifice was mine and mine alone, and the granting of boons goes without an additional cost. The only cost becomes the power itself, depending on its nature. And how do we go about it? Simply place your hands on the table, and I’ll take them into my own. Then close your eyes, relax, and you’ll feel a small tingly sensation. That’s it, it’ll be over. So now, time for me to ask: Do you want to go through this? Be warned that this is an irreversible process, and not all powers are as beneficial as you might expect. Still, I cannot take it away, no matter how much you plead for it. Are you willing to take a chance, and try to join us, no strings attached?”, the ultimatum was laid down.

“I am, let’s do this!”, I said. I felt like I’d been ready for a day like this for my whole life. And thus, I laid down my hands on the table, closed my eyes, and waited.

A sudden, cold sensation took me. His hands were much coarser than I would have expected, I was taken aback by this. Yet, I was ready. Anything for something like this. It had been my one dream for my entire life. I wanted special powers, I wanted to be special, I wanted to finally be someone! But I shouldn’t have asked myself whether I should have powers, or what powers I would have wanted. Instead I should have asked myself what powers I thought best represented me, what powers I was “the most likely to get”. And I would have realized the utter disappointment I might be led to feel.

After feeling a small electric shock in my hands, along with a rushing sensation, I was told I could open my eyes. I looked down on myself and was horrified to discover what I had become. There was nothing. Nothing at all. And I don’t mean that nothing had happened, I mean there was no more me. I was now completely invisible.

“Wha, what? What happened to me?”, I intoned.

“Sir, the kid just turned invisible.”, a voice said from behind.

“Well, well, well, isn’t this interesting. That’s certainly a first for us. Invisibility. I can’t imagine the kind of life you must have led for this to happen, or at least how you must have perceived it. I almost pity you, but I’m sure it’s made you more resilient and capable.”, he calmly said.

“How could this be? I…why didn’t I get something cool like flying, super-strength or super-speed. Even laser eyes could have been cool! How could you do this to me!!”

“There, there, I already told you, I have no control over this process. I can either awaken it, or leave it dormant. Those are my only two options.”

“But…but…I…I…”, and then I started sobbing deeply.

I’d already had a hard enough time being seen and noticed by others, even friends and family. And now here I was, literally invisible. And worst of all, I had no control over it! Yup…this was it, this was the end. I would know utter loneliness. And not like I could go back to my normal life now, even if I wanted to.

Well, I should have know there was a catch. After such a long time living in the shadow, passing unnoticed, being forgotten by others, this was the obvious choice, wasn’t it? Going from metaphorically unseen to literally unseen, going from not leaving a mark, to actually being erased. I should have known better, I should have known to be careful what I wished for, yet I was possessed with hubris. I thought I deserved better and greater things, and would get something grandiose and magnificent. But I got what, deep down, best reflected me. I knew it, I knew why I got it, I knew it made sense, but I didn’t like it, not one bit. Maybe I should have been content with what I had.

This was written December 14th, 2025

Immutable Perfection

Ah, Midas, the eternal cautionary tale against greed, about being careful what you wish for. A king so possessed with greed that he wished for what seemed like the obvious choice, to make everything he touched all the more valuable, only to realize the mistake of his ways. And eventually, for this wish to bring about his own demise. That’s the one people all know and remember, correct? Well, that’s not the one told where I come from.

Once, long ago, there was a king named Midas, and he had a lovely kingdom which he ruled fairly. He’d had a long and successful reign, and everyone looked up to him. He’d had everything, a lovely wife, a lovely daughter, and was proud of the life he had led, proud of the life he’d obtained. His city had flourished, his followers were the envy of everyone. Even neighboring Kingdoms respected him and what he’d accomplished, despite all the battles they’d fought. And greatest of all feats, he was given a boon by the Gods for the favours he’d granted them as they passed for anonymous, which he had as of yet not used.

Alas, he was growing older and wearier, and was not the man he once was. The continuous warring, the constant changes brought forth by progress, things were not as they used to be, did not seem as simple and glorious as they once were. He was ageing, and his body could barely keep up, his mind was also no longer as pliable as it once had been.

He kept looking around and longing for the old days, he kept looking upon his growing daughter and missing the little girl she’d once been, instead of the mature woman she would soon be. Yet, he knew as all us do that time does not slow, time does not revert, time only moves on and pushes us ahead, like powerless marionettes. And he felt the duty he had towards his kingdom, towards his people, towards his family, so he did not falter, and stayed honourable.

Ah, but if only it had remained an internal strife, allowing him not to stray from the honourable path he had crossed. Alas, tragedy must often strikes, and is oft unexpected. And tragedy did strike, as his daughter got mortally sick, with no cure in sight. A rare disease that was slowly destroying her body from the insides. And thus, he opted to finally use his boon to bring his daughter back to full health. Alas, even the gods could not defy the Fates, for the thread of her life had already been measured and cut, and so it must be.

Yet, the boon was still available, and thus he wished he could make her glorious again, in her death. Be seen as he’d seen her, so she could forever be remembered as he saw her. And thus, he was granted his wish. He was warned that now, with a simple touch, the object of his touch would forever be frozen, as they were, but be given the elegance and glory no thing but gold could possess. But unlike the tales you’ve heard, this was not a simple involuntary reaction, this was something he had to consciously enact.

And thus, proudly, bravely, his daughter accepted her fate. A ceremony was held in the center of the city. All the people came to witness it, from near and far, a testament to their influence. She was to be exposed right there for the rest of time. She eventually took a pose, took a deep breath, told her loved ones how much she had appreciated them, and was glad of her life well lived, and told her father she was ready. The transformation was instantaneous and wonderful. All that witnessed it were amazed. He beauty had been perfectly captured, and she was now more magnificent than ever. Considering her pre-determined fate, this was not considered a tragedy, but instead an uplifting tale, and all felt inspired by what had transpired…except for Midas and his immediate entourage.

Both the Queen and King were struck with deep grief, from which none escaped. As he rested upon his throne, Midas, longing for days of past, wishing himself to be back in simpler time, was eventually struck with the notion that, which he could not revert time, he could still forever pause it. He had been driven mad with grief, and his intentions corrupted. Yet, it was his wife’s own request that was the turning point.

Alas, she could no longer see herself live without her daughter, and thus requested she be allowed to join her, for all of eternity. Her husband, sorrowfully, acquiesced her demand. Thus, in the middle of the square, it appeared like two statues had been erected, of a loving mother, caring for her lovely daughter. And that they had subsequently been lacquered in gold. Yet, we all know they were veritable women having been transformed, through a monstrous, albeit painless process, into solid gold. On the daughter’s face, one could see a chagrined smile, along with a hopeful expression. Meanwhile, the mother wore a strong expression, yet a terribly chagrined one, and along her left cheek, a single golden tear, “dripping”.

From this point on, the mad King had only one objective in mind, bringing company to his beloved family, for if they had not been allowed to live a long and full life, then their eternal existence would at least not be a lonely one. He would preserve his kingdom, its glory immortalized. Forever frozen in time, none able to dislodge it from its perfection.

And thus, one silent night, Midas decide to enact his plan. He started with his own palace and servants, gradually turning each of them, while they were attending duties, into frozen simulacra of life, moving from person to person before anyone, in their torpor, could realize what the horrifying state unfolding before them. Then, he moved on to the staff that was presently resting, unaware they had entered their final and eternal slumber.

Before news of any of this could spread, he moved on to the homes of the different citizens, transforming them one by one while they still lay dormant. Finally, once ready, he moved out to the remaining patrons that were, for some reason, active at night. He also used the cover of the night to camouflage what was happening, able to not only catch most people off-guard, but also unaware of their fellow men’s fate.

It had been a rather busy night for dear old Midas, a spectre moving from unsuspecting victim to unsuspecting victim, but he eventually succeeded, his kingdom at last eerily silent, with not an ounce of beauty missing from the inhabitants. If anything, he thought, they beauty had been enhanced. But despite his success, once the first rays of sunshine appeared, a few statues could be seen donning an expression of pure terror, realizing what they were about to be subjected to, yet neither prepared nor willing, to meet such fate.

As he walked through what should at this point be called a graveyard, or the aftermath of a massacre, yet beheld no such gore, he realized this would be insufficient, he should go all the way. Thereby, he busied himself to turning all that remained into gold: all objects, all buildings, even the streets themselves. And lest we forgot, even the animals, even the meals, were to be consecrated in this baptism of gold. Nothing would be spared. A perfect copy of his beloved Kingdom would be forever preserved. His Masterpiece.

Right before dusk, he at last sat on his throne, which he had, by then, also transmuted, he took a last look on his surroundings, and with a proud look, declared to himself: “At last, it shall be preserved in its perfection. No more change, no more strife, a pure and perfect existence upon which all of humanity can reflect and envy.”

As the sun was descending beyond the horizon, the last rays of light gradually vanishing, Midas, in great weariness, through an alchemical process, at last joined the rest of his kingdom. And on his weary face could be glimpsed, through the exhaustion, a look of pure satisfaction.

This was written December 13th, 2025

The Sword

There,
The heir,
Of this tale,
He did regale.

There once was a sword,
Forged long ago by Lord,
Whom Peace and Logic would preach,
And all of us he tried to reach.

First sword humanity had witnessed,
Purpose: A simple tool he confessed,
Naive he was; ignored our brutality,
Creatively repurposed for finality.

Bloodshed ensued; destruction raged; Lord realized,
Error was his; should have seen yet just surprised,
Corruption of such well-meaning intent,
Disgust unbound he fled to repent.

What now to do he did know not,
Insides twisted all in knot,
Box of Pandora’s bare?
He could not bear.

Ashamed at last,
Plus aghast,
He bled,
Red.

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 tomorrow, next week, next month, by the end of the year?”. 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.