Friend Mycelium

Chapter 7 of 9 out now!!

I made a functional Eridian Clock Program (set to begin at midnight on March 20th 2026 for the movie release) with a human translation for readability.

That "performative males" to the extent they do/did exist elevated femininity and the opinions of women. That the issue was not that they were performative, but that they chose to perform femininity instead of masculinity. Chose to value the opinions of women over the opinions of men.

Like, yeah, there's the feminist critique of a man performing feminity insincerely as a means to an end. But that kind of feminist critique doesn't become something the general population laughs at.

I saw a woman say that her least favorite performative male trait was "genuinely enjoying Chai lattes". It's not performative if it's genuine, girly-pop.

What if performative males were not mocked for not actually being feminine enough but for not actually being male enough? What if their performance of femininity was too genuine?

Like, nothing matter so that means I get to pick what matters.

Very good video, love pearlieee's energy as always. But I felt very guilty clicking on the video, it didn't seem fair to say that no one ever told me I was enough, even though that idea resonated with me.

I confess

When you tell me how romantic it might be

To love someone who hurts you

(Even indirectly)

To love them stubbornly

And I think it's funny

How in another universe

One where you chose me

I'd confess the inverse

Maybe thats why you couldn't

I never would have learned to be cold

My heart would have been left open

I'd always neglect myself for love

But now I know we can't be friends

I confess it over and over in my head

Our lives are no longer compatible

You love her stubbornly

Chapter 6 of 9 out now!!

This short film has everything!

Many imagine what it would be like

To be the Leader of the World,

President of Earth.

Standing above it all. In total control.

I'm much more inspired by 

an architect

designing solutions to problems

before they happen

creating a Goldberg machine 

of progress

and moving on to the next project

This community needs a park

I design benches comfortable

for a full night's rest

should anyone want it

I design a garden of local flora

fruits, vegetables, and flowers alike

ripe for anyone's picking

I design paths with cut curbs,

smooth and wide enough

for anyone to access

I hope they enjoy their park

I hope they make use of their library

I hope they feel the rumble

of the train on its tracks

and of their chest when they laugh

Live Laugh Love is a phrase

hoisted on it's own petard

its simple truth plastered

across one too many pillows

But I am committed to a world

where every day, everyone gets to

Live Laugh Love

I'm building it, block by block

I've been teaching myself 

to see with artist's eyes

Imagining how I'd lay it out

if the scene before me were my painting

tracing the contours of branches

painting with swaths of golden light

tinging every color it meets when they mix

finding where edges meet, blurring some

If I were a better artist

these studies would involve my canvas

my palette would be full of paint

my notebook filled with linework practice

but my interest in art is not about making

technically brilliant masterpieces

but just seeing the world in all its beauty

Today my self-care app asked:

"What makes a productive day for you?"

All my friends answered

The options were:

did what I wanted

something mattered

got in the flow

completed my to-do list

No one picked the first two

though those are valuable

agency and freedom

joy and gratitude

but the last two I was torn between

which felt more productive?

I decided I need not complete everything

to have produced something worthwhile

So I chose the pentultimate option.

After I explain to my joyfriend

how strange it feels

to be on the border of extroverted

and introverted

more extroverted than my best friend

(though I sometimes forget)

but slightly annoyed 

when, at a concert, 

the group expands 

including people I have never 

even wanted to meet

I find myself saying

"and that's kind of like a poem to me

"you know?"

and he nods,

still on the verge of shivering

so I hug him, to warm him up

and thank him for seeing 

I already wrote a poem 

about my dear friend:

the neutron star

that lives in my heart,

so I suppose it is time

to write about the supernova

When I saw Oppenheimer 

I connected with the depiction 

of the atom bomb

the blinding white

the silence ringing in my ears

it all felt familiar

"So you experienced domestic violence"

my therapist says, in our intake session

I clarify that I was never abused,

I never even witnessed it

I could just hear yelling in another room

and I did my best to tune it out

But there are moments 

still ringing in my memory

where the crowd disintegrates

and my home is consumed

by the fire of a dying star

leaving behind only