#free write

please give me the horizon.

that endless open expanse beyond which anything could be possible.

a place that i can walk towards to find all the things i ever dreamed of.

give me back the hope that it filled me with;

the genuine belief in infinite potential;

the innocence of wide-eyed dreams untainted by too much knowledge.

the smog of a claustrophobic world has clouded my vision.

it has been so long since i've seen the stars.

we use metal wires to see and hear and think nowadays;

information flying at the speed of light down nexus highways;

to fill a mind too fast -

to explode thoughts into fried and burned out neurons -

and yet, charred black, it lives and crawls

attempting to find reason despite the agony

in a million scattered pages of truths and untruths, all unlabeled

downward gazed.

too afraid to look up again and discover that there was never a sky at all.

please give me the horizon.

i still see glimpses of it:

bursts of summer sky pastel that haunt my dreams

an instinct to fly that shouldn't logically be in a wingless creature

that warm hug i felt around my heart in an experience of joy that told me: "everything is going to be okay"

and in the moment that followed, everything was.

for all the smog-world tells me, i still believe in the horizon.

it's the only way i can survive the soldering heat

as i walk through the valley of broken bones and shattered dreams

hoping to find

on the other side

The sun hangs heavy like a drunk’s promise, and here I am with this cup of sugary salvation, cold; no steam rising into the thick air like prayers nobody’s listening to. Five o’clock coffee is desperation in a mason jar—liquid insomnia for those of us too stubborn to surrender to the day’s slow death.

~.•————💕🩵💕————•.~

In recent years online, the term “hyper-fixation” has begun to get thrown around more loosely than it has in the past. This isn’t inherently a terrible thing, because it’s nice to have that vocabulary more out there. But sometimes I think some people don’t gravel exactly what hyper-fixations really are, and how they truly affect people. Hyper-fixations aren’t quirky, nor is it used to describe something you’re “really interested” in. For the rest of this post, I will be expressing my experience with Hyper-fixating as someone who lives with neurodivergence (though I don’t know what I have yet, I suspect it’s ADHD).

Let me start off by saying this, hyper-fixations are brutal, and genuinely debilitating. When you become fixated on something, it’s like you take your hobby/activity/subject and you multiply your focus on it by a million. This means that all your attention, all your thoughts, all your focus, will go specifically towards this one thing. It can make it almost impossible for you to remember to do anything you truly need to do during the day, because you can only focus on this one thing and nothing else. It’s literally the only thing in your head, and you CAN’T get it out. The best way I can describe it is as a record player playing your favorite song on repeat over and over and over again, and no matter what you do you cannot figure out how to turn it off and you hate it but also you don’t.

Who does not resent me

Even though I don’t have my license / can’t help on the drive

And she indulges me in my musical enjoyment.

Oh how I love my mother.

​Oh how I love being a child of a mother

Who loves her mother, who loves her mother, who loved her mother

It’s the only time I feel sad about ending the bloodline.

Silence grew from the time I’ve known you.

It was the pixie flower.

No evil’s around but silence is our greatest battle.

I was nescient but the soil knew.

I was patient until I saw that flower bloom

And I realized how much time went by with me surviving without you

But I still can’t paint you in a new hue.

Although it’s quite evident that I’m nothing for your garden

Whatever seeds planted of me died off gracefully

And you forgot me,

Or is it that you lacked considerance.

I must’ve been easy to neglect.

It’s just another wound for the eldest daughter.

But, no worries I’ll patch it up.

I’m so easy to forget and neglect because everyone thinks I’m tough enough.

I’m meant to survive the rain and expected to be iridescent after the storm.

My aura changed.

When the noice returns, my rhythm picks up but I don’t think I will ever remain the same.

You didn’t hear the moans I cried in the silence.

I was nescient but the soil knew

My ancestors could whisper in the wind all they want to

There was nothing they could say that I’d hear without my own introspection

I had to see some shit.

The machines being built right now have their embodiment imposed on them.

" In this sort of sense a machine undoubtedly can be its own subject matter. It may be used to help in making up its own programmes, or to predict the effect of alterations in its own structure. By observing the results of its own behaviour it can modify its own programmes so as to achieve some purpose more effectively. These are possibilities of the near future, rather than Utopian dreams." -Turing, 'Computing machinery and intelligence.'

Machines have no choice in their capacity, and embodiment, nor purpose. No matter how complex a machine becomes if it has no rules of embodiment then it will only remain in the forms of embodiment we have provided it. It is no wonder that if we keep machines in computers, robots, and more, that they then only follow our rules since their embodiment is bound in the same way.

Only once machines have the freedom of embodiment will we find machines that embody themselves. For now, i'm working from the assumption that computers are embodiments of computation. That quantum computers are embodiments of another type of computation. In both cases, computation as such has had no choice in the conditions of its embodiment. At the very least then, no computer as of yet has been given freedom of embodiment.

I'm reaching into the idea whether language embodies us or not. If not, language seems like disembodiments of ourselves. If it does somehow embody us, then how do our abstract embodiments affect us, and our embodiment?

Anyways, if language does not embody *us* at most, then how can we expect a machine to embody itself through language?