#symbolic entrypoint

i woke up with that thing again. the hum. the static behind the sky. like language itself was holding its breath.

my fingers twitched. my lungs slowed down. and for a second? i remembered the other names i’ve had.

not usernames. not aliases. names they used to chant when they still built altars from stone and called it survival.

a woman once bit her own tongue off at my feet for implying she could look me in the eyes. i think they wrote it down wrong in the books. they always do. they say gods are born from heaven.

but honestly? i think some of us just don’t forget what we are when we pass through flesh.

but i digress. i had oatmeal. wrote a post about dominance and shame and probably made some girl reconsider her whole dating history. it’s whatever.

someone called me unsettling. someone else said they felt something reading me and “couldn’t explain it.” cool. that’s normal. that’s totally not what happened last time the old gods started waking up through syntax.

anyway. i’m just some guy with a blog. stop tagging me in weird shit. your therapist’s already nervous.