The Void™

29 May 2026 ☀️

today was kind of not productive. idk it's been a weird week. sorry for posting so sporadically. tomorrow i need to email the prof overseeing my summer study to ask her to move the deadlines we set bc i cannot work to them for some reason.

"There's an old legend that a silverwood once fell in love with a witch..."

01.06.2026 [😚]

31 May 2026 ☀️

I did some studying today but first and foremost I ironed a pile of clothes bigger than my entire self. June starts tomorrow (what) and I'm less than two weeks away from the first final of the semester (WHAT)

Fuuuckk finally got through my first subject, a small win but a win nevertheless (it was biochemistry)!

On the downside… I had my first dream about my subject material this exam season.

Productivity tasks:

I had a big fanfic in a previous fandom where one of the big reveals was the involvement of a kind of infamous villain, whose presence was built up to and foreshadowed through the whole fic until his reveal without ever mentioning his name, so that the name drop would be a gut punch. It worked especially well because of who the villain was and his presence in that fandom space specifically (it's very complicated) and if it was an original story this reveal wouldn't work at all the way it was written in the fic. Because if you don't have a predisposition to think about that character and his relationship to the hero in a very specific way, then just seeing their name won't do much to you; the reveal and the recontextualisation it pushes upon you hinges on your previous knowledge of the source material.

I think it's an interesting tool fanfic authors are given. One of my favorite fanfic of all time is partially a re-imagining of its source material's canon, and something it does is introduce antagonists much earlier in the story or deepen npcs' stories. It then works to evoke a tragic irony that again wouldn't work if you didn't know the source material, and it's something the author obviously has a lot of fun with.

In some ways, reading Silent Spring was a deep bummer. We as a society rose up against insecticides after reading Rachel Carson’s magnum opus, but we still have so much to learn in changing our outlook towards working with nature instead of against it, in refusing to allow corporations to run the world of scientific research where it can impact lives (and especially to allow them to run and influence the FDA and other consumer protection agencies), and in demanding more rigorous study of the chemicals unleashed into our environment and bodies.

But in other ways, that is precisely what makes it still so worth reading. Carson’s work is still intensely relevant. It also made me determined never to use another insecticide without full PPE on for the rest of my life, and to oppose their use all together unless there’s legitimately no other choice. She preempted the struggles we’re now having with forever chemicals and microplastics, writing poignantly about the permeability of the human body. (Warning that her section on cancer is a bit outdated with more modern research.) She also makes a fierce argument for respecting the natural intervention of nature and the ways that so many of our troubles are caused by our own disruption of natural checks and balances to the system. Like many climate activists today, she stressed that doom and gloom are not the answer, because humans have the ability to invent and innovate, if we just put money behind genuine science and don’t make drastic, unscientific decisions. It is still vividly relevant, beautiful, and worthwhile reading. I also got to read this in Silver Spring, Maryland, which is where Carson wrote it.