vegan food

It's absolutely beautiful this morning. Is the kind of gorgeous that makes people suffer through the Dune-like conditions during the summer. 

Food smells good. The sound of them slaughtering tofu in the back is kind of disturbing though. 

Hallways

You may find yourself stuck in a building that seems to consist entirely of hallways. First of all, don't panic. There is only a moderate chance anything will hurt you, and you may even be able to make it out someday. 

Now, of course, you are going to panic. That's normal. But seriously, don't. Don't scream or shout; nobody who can help you is going to hear you. There are things that will hear you, but they are not going to help you. 

Do not run blindly down hallway after hallway, through corridors and passageways, up and down the galleries, concourses and antechambers. You will only tire yourself out and be unable to run when you really need to. 

There should be food and water here, somewhere. You need to move efficiently and steadily. Travel for ten minutes at a time. Stop. Listen. Move again. You'll either find it or you won't. Sleep when you need to. You'll startle awake. When you do, do not try to go back to sleep. Continue moving. 

If if IF you find a door, kick it open and then run and hide. See what comes out. 

If nothing comes out, wait some more. See if anything heard you kick the door open and tries to go in. 

There isn't much more to it. 

If you do this long enough, and get very luckily, you might get out. 

But don't bother telling anyone about what happened. They won't believe you. 

It's a beautiful morning. The rain is real rain; heavy rain that washes away the dust of the desert and the grime of the city. 

We'll all be clean, for a little while. 

chilly down

It's a beautiful day. Chilly for me, as it's about 65 degrees and I'm visibly shivering. Must...appear...stoic....

Wait why? I'm not ashamed at my body's remarkable ability to discharge heat. I'm adapted to ridiculously hot temperatures. 

It's great, for most of the year round these parts. 

I was listening to an Arctic explorer talk about the psychological toll that being alone and cold takes on you. 

When the very air is trying to suck the life from you. Shocks your entire body and while you're reeling, it sends polar bears at you. At least that's what I've heard. 

how to write

Step 1: Live your fucking life

  Step 1-A: Pay attention to everything. Learn how things work. How they fit together. Don't rely so much on your own point-of-view. You're just one character. Zoom out. Zoom in. What would a hero do? What would a villain do? The mentor? The sidekick? The love interest? Every few minutes, most people do something that reveals a little bit about their characters. Take notes. Every fragment won't be useful, but you won't know which ones aren't until you're dead, and then it won't really matter. Write to discover. We already have enough people telling us what they already know. Fiction is great for messy ideas; not everything has to be a clue, or a symbol, or a variation on a theme. Sometimes a character just wants a sandwich. All those moments when you can't think of a clever riposte are okay.  Everyone has those moments. Make a plan. Or don't. You'll probably be more successful if you do plan a little. You're building a world; don't condemn them to be trapped in your own head. 

ghost problems

Everyone gets a choice, at the end, if they want their consciousness to move on to the next plane of existence or if they want to stay on this one. The non-corporeal part isn't an option; you will be, in a basic sense, a ghost. A bodiless you that isn't bound by the laws of physics. 

I chose to stay. I wanted to explore the oceans, the molten core of the Earth, and all the other planets in the solar system.

And I did... I know I did. The problem is I don't really remember. 

Memories, real memories, aren't formed as just pictures. When we experience anything, when alive, there is smell, touch, sound, as well as sight. All of these combine to form the memory. It turns out they also give it shape, hold it up, secure its location, so to speak. Without the extra sensory information received by the body, it gets... lost.

Like waking up from a dream; you only hold on to it for a few seconds and then it vanishes back into the void. 

I can see everything, even experience it, but I can't learn. 

My life is a tangle of wires and a thousand light-emitting diodes. Every glowing screen is a tiny sun that draws my distracted mind into its orbit. It wasn't always this way. And yet, I can harness it to my will, when I can remember what that is. 

Zoom in, zoom out, from infinitely complex to infinitesimally simple. Or the other way around. I forget. Or maybe I never knew. How would I know? 

Carve into you bark of a growing tree. The rings remember. 

The Greenland shark can live up to 500 years. Its flesh is toxic to mammals. 

What does it think about, as it swims deep in the icy waters for hundred of years? One day, will one rise from the depths with the answers to all our problems? 

Will we listen, or pickle its flesh and try to eat it, like we do with everything else?