[ot][spam][crazy][rude] ramblings and bemoanings
1. Once upon a time .... 2. It's interesting to compulsively blither onto this mailing list where I don't really know anybody and have amnesia around most of the parts of the real content I actually knew. I would guess that one of the reasons my subconscious would have picked this list to spam was both that the people using it were probably pretty resilient to spam, but also that I don't really know many people here, and don't have a strong emotional attachment to the culture. That second point, it feels bad, and that bad feeling reflects on me: there are few things here that really strike my heart. I likely would have subconsciously worked very hard to keep myself away from communities I really strongly valued, perceiving myself as harming them. A counterargument could be that other communities could be targeted just as badly as this one, and maybe my additional targeting would be minimal. It's an interesting thought. Still, I like the tiny bit of safety of having [spam] tags and not having strong connection to the community. It's an interesting idea, that maybe I could find more communities by feeling like I am disrupting them, rather than trying to engage them. Of course things end up being a hybrid of both.
A lone daffodil grows out of an iceberg. This giant iceberg is no match for this daffodil, which sinks its roots deep into the surface of the ice. Daffodil: "I am sturdy and strong!" Iceberg: "I don't know how to worry about whether you are frozen and how you are staying alive because I am just a huge block of ice." The daffodil stretched its roots and began very slightly cracking the ice at the surface of the iceberg. As it grew, it began to go to seed, and scattered seeds from its pod across the surface of the iceberg. Then it withered. Come next season, this daffodil sprouted again out of the iceberg, among others! It opened its flower and looked at the cold sky. Its roots began to know the iceberg well.
An icestorm came by, whipping hail and sleet across the leaves of the daffodils! They became damaged, many had their aerial parts completely destroyed. Many stayed strong and firm, still opening their flowers when day came! Next season, the daffodils all sprouted again.
Being Daffodil Roots in an Iceberg. I don't know much what it's like to be a normal daffodil, where you get fancy digs like moist soil to pull nutrients out of. But us ice daffodils, we know _all_ about finding the solutes dissolved in ice. Did you know that if you press ice hard enough with your roots, very slowly, a little bit of salt can come out? Now, salt of course is very deadly and quickly kills you and all, but some of those ions are just what you're looking for! Sometimes I think about guiding this iceberg toward some weather scientists and seeing if they'll build me a robot to help me survive.
Daffodils Building Robot on Iceberg A collection of daffodils are growing near a discarded weather satellite dish. There is slightly higher root density on one side of the dish than the other. They are moving it!
--------------------- A Rambling On Eroding Sanity And Goals Most of my worries are focused on whether or not I can do things I prefer to. I think of this a lot. I have a lot of intense experiences that rather take me over, so the parts for doing what I prefer tend to be kind of small dregs. As I focus on these few things, other parts of me can really fall by the wayside, and I get less and less connected with what makes sense in the world. I think it can turn around, though. It's funny, to see myself behaving so foolishly, while worrying about parts of my mind that I try to protect in order to not be foolish. It would leave one confused, but I'm already pretty confused. Focusing in on the idea of willpower or what one wants to do: my wants can be pretty varied, kind of like a hierarchy of compromises, looking for small parts of beingness that match something that I recognise as something I chose or desired at some point. And like any logic, there is a different hierarchy of things that might support other things. These little bits, I worry for them, for me, for us. But I know something can happen. Something always does.
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Undescribed Horrific Abuse, One Victim & Survivor of Many