2026-08-11

Starting this after daynight, but i'll let that ride. When you've just passed the trough you can be forgiven for forgetting.

Mosquitos gather around my body, to swoop and dive, like some kinds of miniature aerial vampires.

I sometimes feel like giving myself to them: donating the blood. Here it is no matter of life and death, only of discomfort, so why not be generous, or just a little buddhist and let them be. But it is something about the sound, i think there must be some deeply evolutionary encoded for the visceral aversion and automatic handwaving that the their dive bombing occasions. There must be a reason back, way back, that has us trained to this reaction.

Who knows. The night bristles on my arms and as the heat of the day leaches away into the open sky the parched earth breathes in relief. Deep in darkness cicadas provide a background hum that i've almost got numbed too, it takes a moment of mindfulness to return and recognise their presence.

I meant to be asleep 2h ago, here now well past midnight but the baby roared and cried just as i was on the edge of sleep. perhaps a gift, as it brought me back to this blank-blackened page and the desire to etch something into its wary silicon before the shutters fell and we had lights out for the territory.

So much happens we cannot reckon with. And is why I stumble into the thought of tomorrow, and forging my way across the plains into the line of a dying sun. A sun eclipsed, darkened, if only for an instant, no more than a minute at best. Yet people will travel a thousand miles for the site [sic].

No eternal sunshine of spotlessed minds here. The sun can darken and vanish, just as we. My feed because of my attentions has become consumed by collapse, mostly of the climate kind. Somehow insta seems more hospitable to the climate metacrisis than the AI one (compared to the eX-T). Perhaps in some ways burning forests and parched fields are more visual. Or maybe its just me and the quirks of the feed.

It's not good for me. that i know. I'm no denier, i'm already up to elbows in cognizance of what our future holds. It's that collapse presented like this, in soundbites of thirty seconds can become like a car-crash in a Hollywood movie. Violence removed of content and reduced to a shock tactic to gain our attention. There's little space in a minute (at most) of a person's time to hold them through a delicate arc of recognition, realization and recovery. At best, we can throw some (inevitably) simplistic solution at them in the comments or a "link in the bio".

But that's where folks are (including me, albeit rarely). And we're there at our most vulnerable (ime). We're not busy scrolling when we're wide awake and well meditated. It's at the tailend of days, when we're fagged out and half sleepwalking. It's the jumped up, souped up cousin of TV which used to the drug of choice to lull us towards sleep in a world denied the benefit of no options.