2. 2026-01-26 / index

I really wasn't planning to write tonight, but I'm hardly putting myself to bed, so... Since the weather is approximating the blizzard of the quarter-century over here, our sister and her boyfriend have been staying over at our place. That makes it a full house, and no one sleeps early when hanging out runs long into the night.

I'm antisocial at heart. I just don't have the energy for people, and I think I'm not bright enough (like chipper) to kick back and have a good time, either. Someone wrote we were "moody" when we were four years old, and I can't take it upon myself to argue. So when I'm done with my work—I did get back to the music wiki—I plant myself ten feet off where I've spent most my day already. I'm square in my bed. Or I guess trapezoidal. I figure out what's comfortable for me.

There are a lot of worlds which live quite vivid in my head. They aren't really ones I made up, because I've always preferred to visit someone else's. I come close to discovering someplace new when I remember a false memory, some part of a game or story that really never was. That's usually through dreams, but not always. It's not too lonely, knowing that for just a moment, I was there on my own. But it helps me appreciate the time I spend in others' worlds, just as they are.

I care so badly about the past, yet it's not really where I live. What's the use of playing a game from a decade ago, two decades ago, three decades ago? (It's 2026—try four.) But I don't think it's exactly living in the past, because I'm not time traveling, am I? I'm not surrounded by it. I could be, and aesthetically I even like to be, but whenever I'm from, I'm here right now. I don't think I would say any of what I say if I were not saying it right now. I don't think I'd say it, either, if I weren't speaking with everything I've taken with me, much of which is a whole lot older than me. And in the end my words are first for my present, then for our future.

Things I might have written on, but didn't: —Reconnecting with an old Scratch friend, maybe or maybe not by coincidence as we take a few steps away from our was-home, that site... —Being rested, and how maybe waking up on two feet matters more than getting thirteen hours sleep —Catching myself doing the stuff I actually think I'm good at, like I only ever notice it there on the ground —The eternal shifting sands over, what do I want from people sharing in my art? I don't know, but if I'm going to find out, I think I'd better keep getting better at sharing in yours.