#freeverse

Hi!

Long story short, yes, I'm fine. 2026 has proven to be way crazier for me than I thought it would. Some reasons for that craziness are very good and some were really not very fun at all. Basically, I became way busier than I thought I would be.

Half of the second part is written and ready to go! (And I have plans to write the second half as I post the first half.) The only reason I'm not posting it is because I'm also currently moving by myself for the first time ever and...yeah turns out that's a lot of work!! Also something I did not plan for—it sorta just happened and...yeah...

I said I wasn't going to make this a long story, and yet, I'm rambling. Basically, I'd like to finish moving first and then will start posting. I'm aiming for the beginning of August. That's pretty far off from May like I originally promised, so if I can pass on any piece of advice, I guess it would be to just never promise anything because you never know what life might throw at you 😂

Thank you for checking in on me, anon. And thank you to everyone else leaving comments on my page or my fic. I promise I will be back!! It's just been a very intense year for me 😊

Words land here first.

Exact wording.

Sequence.

The pressure of a comma.

That's the limit

of the tool you used —

water measured

with a ruler.

Accuracy

over immediacy.

Because accuracy

is what's left

when everything else

goes wrong.

Calibrate.

Be asking

the right questions

In only

the right way:

Not “What?”

But “How?”

Not “Why?”

—filled with eviscerated time, it skews the mind.

There are a thousand voids littered in concrete, labyrinthine, turned ouroboros,

we run in circles in the silo,

we cycle, we— the spiral of life, tied into every centennial tree-ring and coalescing tide, whirlpooling into the yawning solstice,

equating equilibrium —charted course haunts, compass falls deep into the silo...

I remember Alice...

We all remember something, but we forget the silo over and over again, it falls away,

it doesn't bend,

it never bends, somewhere in un-memory it stands.

We— hold hands, in a field that has no end.