The Good and the Bad

   One can get too used to living in a crisis I suppose. 

  I have to work to stop humans from overtaking us, but I can't forget that, unlike humans, I have a responsibility to others in my life. My father, my mother, my brothers and sisters, and my beloved Selma. Perhaps not objectively pretty, according to my other friends, but to me she shines brighter than the sun. 

   Before her, I viewed love as simple. You spend all you time with a person, and they fill you with unmatched joy. That's not what our relationship is like. We fight, we complain, we annoy one another, and only sometimes do I see her at work and think "I'm so lucky to have you." But I wouldn't change anything. She reminds me, when I forget, that reality is supposed to be flawed and messy. That couples ought to have rough patches, that sometimes we should feel sad and alone. Without darkness, all of the light in our world would be overwhelming. 

    I'm trying to build up my story buffer, because I'm going on vacation at the end of December. Nothing major to post about right now. 

The Picture of the Past

 I see them stiff,
Frozen in a moment
Of glory and shame.

I see them staring at me,
An expression of anger
And fear.

Arms outstretched
They reach out to me,
To a present they can't reach,
To a meaning they'll never know.

They've been forgotten by so many
They can't even be ghosts anymore,
Only pictures in a lost photo album,
Filled with unhappy moments.

They don't know why they've been forgotten.
They don't know why the old world left them.
They don't know why any of this had to happen.
All they know is that we abandoned them
When they needed us the most.

I should feel sad,
For my heart aches for all that's been lost,
But there's a deep hole in the place they once lived,
A void no sense of joy can fill.

Do I miss them?
Do I miss the life they once gave me?
Or am I just mourning the moments
When I felt they were gods? 

    I don't want to say that Twitter is doomed, but I will say that I'm giving up on it. I don't know how to put it, I'm sure plenty of smarter people could explain it, but I feel like the overall vibe is declining. It's like everyone knows the site's dying, but some are trying really hard to hide it. 

     I suppose if we're using the old dumpster fire metaphor, I'd say we've reached the point where it's still burning, but it's not nearly as warm and flashy as it used to be. 

Dreaming of the Future

    I want to move on.

    I want to move forward from a world that's always sick and in danger of dying. 

    I want a world where we know we won't die from every plague you can imagine. 

    I wish the rest of the world felt the same way. All I see, when I look around, are people pretending that the Corona virus didn't happen, that too many people haven't died from it, that we aren't still in danger from it. All I see are people pretending the past isn't shaping today.

    I see people, afraid of the future, pretending the past will go on throughout eternity. 

    I remember, as a child, I wished that I didn't have to grow up, to go to college, get a job, anything that would make me a useful member of society. I was lucky, for my wish has been granted. I'm a lonely slob with no life who nobody with any sense pays attention to. Every day I look around and see so many who were not so lucky, who took the world at its word when they were told they had no choice but to go onto the next step, to become the people their parents wanted them to be. They listened, and they had everything taken from them.

    When I look around, I don't see people who are lazy and stupid. I see people who want to live in the world, but don't want the world we're currently living in. And I feel so angry. Not on my behalf, we could be living in a Utopia and I'd still choose the life I have now, but on behalf of everyone else. Everyone who chased a dream and is now paying the price. Is it really a crime to want to live a normal life.

    I want to move on. I want to move to a world where I see people living their lives and am consumed with envy and hatred, because then I know I'll be in a world that's worth living in, a world that's worth saving. I want a world where I'm compelled to fight for greatness, to chase after those who made it in the first place. I don't want a world where I blend in seamlessly, because I'm not sure such a world will ever exist, but I want a world where I feel it's worth it to try.  

Destiny

    Every sorcerer is certain that destiny smiles upon them. It's tradition. Even if you're not an adventurer at heart, you're still the person who will revolutionize the world, or failing that the person who will bring up the next generation of greatness. 

   At some point though, you have to grow out of that mindset. I was ahead of the curve. I realized when I was ten, a little over seven years ago, that it was mathematically impossible for all of us to be greats. My aunt, however, refused to let me stop trying. 

   It's not that I don't want to be amazing. It's that it's so hard and frustrating that I don't feel like it's worth it most of the time. Just because I can do math doesn't mean I want to do it for the rest of my life. 

    I'd honestly rather do a paperwork job that allowed me enough time to draw pictures. I like drawing, and I sometimes wish I'd been born low enough for it not be a shameful thing to do. I'm not very imaginative, I don't picture things the way some of my friends do, but I like to draw pictures of the buildings at college, or the landscapes that I see in the Infinite. I think that if I could just draw the things other people have built for the rest of my life, I'd die happy. 

What I'm Thankful For

    Today is Thanksgiving, if you're in the United States at least. I would talk about all that I'm thankful for, but honestly I've always hated that particular thanksgiving tradition. Am I really supposed to be grateful for not starving to death on the streets? 

    I guess I am thankful for the Blog, or at least for the ability to keep it going for a year. A bit more than a year if you count the random posts I did at the beginning. 

    What I really want is to take my Blog to the next level. I don't mean in terms of views, I mean in terms of upping the production value a little bit, learning a little more. I think that, once I'm good enough, I might move onto another platform. Assuming the internet doesn't catch fire first. 

The School Janitor

    Our town doesn't worry about the Homeless. Our mayor has a policy in place that anyone found outside after dark goes to jail, and after your third sentence you get sacrificed for power. The humans hate that policy, but as my mother and father always point out, coming here was their decision in the first place. Though that's not actually true. 

   Natalie, my best friend, rose from basically nothing. Her father's the janitor at our high school, her mother's a maid. Neither of them are nightmares themselves. But their baby fussed and cried a lot, and she slept too, something I and many others took advantage of. Then she started going lucid. 

   It's true that all humans can go lucid, but it doesn't usually go much further than being able to tell how strong a Nightmare is without seeing their nightmare form, which as my parents point out is completely useless. Any other lucidity abilities only come in handy in the Dreamworld, which you only go into while you're asleep, and since humans don't sleep they never need lucidity. Lucidity is only for children with neglectful parents, or children destined to become Midnight Nightmares. Sometimes the one becomes the other, but not often. Most of the time children with poor parents wind up being poor themselves, serving as guards or Night servants for other Nightmares. 

   The Mayors son found out about Natalie. He was, and still is, a jerk, but he's powerful in his own right, and decided to assert that power on the child who was sleeping when she didn't need to. He realized that he was wrong when she dispelled his "Nightmare form" (it barely counted, he was only seven at the time, and she was only five). He went straight up to his mother and demanded that Natalie be punished, but lady Grey, the head of the cult, decided to test Natalie first. That's when we discovered that Natalie is basically my mother's successor, as in she's destined to run our temple one day. 

   That should have made me sad, but the temple always scared me. Mostly because, since it's where all of our sacrifices take place, it's always covered in blood. But Natalie doesn't mind. She's always worked hard to please my mother, and bodily fluids don't bother her. What I like about her the most though is that she doesn't seem to notice that I'm my mother's eldest child most of the time. She never gets upset when I can't manage a spell, nor does she seem disappointed that I'm basically destined to work as a Dreamworld guard (I have no idea where Cassie got the idea that I was destined for Godhood). She tells me that she doesn't really think of me as a competitor, I remind her more of a human then a Nightmare, but I still surprise her with the amount of power I can wield. 

   I wonder how much of that is from her parents. She still lives with them, but she doesn't talk about them to me much. I have seen her talking with humans though. She told me that most of her friends families have lived in the valley for centuries, but there's so much power now that low level Nightmares are taking the jobs humans used to have. And they can't go to the human lands because the rules say you can only move there if you can get a job. Which not even most humans can. 

     Fortunately her father's job seems to be safe. Her mother hasn't been so lucky. They both get what work they can, but they say that they're worried that one or both of them will be sacrifices, and Natalie has said she'll do that if she has to, though she cries every time she says it. 

   I'm grateful that I'm not a human. I do wish they didn't hate us though. We're only doing what we have to for protection. 

Do I Want to be Better

     I didn't set out to be a great writer, or even a good writer. I just set out to be a writer. If you, my hypothetical reader, are reading this and thinking that I completely suck at this, I wouldn't be happy, but I wouldn't really be surprised. I'd like to think I'd be okay with it, once the pain wore off. 

     As someone who set out to be mediocre, I'm frightened by the level of mediocrity that those at the top exhibit. I know people reach the top for all sorts of reasons, many of them have nothing to do with talent, but it still feels wrong to see the truth in action. Like I don't want to own Twitter, but I can't help but feel like I'd do a better job than Elon Musk. 

    I want to be better. I want to believe I can go a lot farther, as a person and as a writer, than I currently am. But when I look at the people who lead us I can't help but wonder if I've already hit a wall. 

    How do you know that you're a good person if you can't trust the judgement of those around you? I want to think I've gotten better as a writer over the past year I've been blogging, but I have no way of judging that, and I'm beginning to think that even if I had an audience I'd have no way of knowing the truth. Even now, plenty of people are saying that Elon Musk is a genius, even though the consensus is that you'd have to be stupid to believe them. 

     I don't even know how I want to get better. I don't know what better would even look like. I keep thinking that all the parts we thought were important were lies, lies that were held together by this strange belief that not believing in them was wrong somehow. There's a chance I could be wrong, that somewhere at the bottom of society there's a truth we all believe in, that there's a story holding our world together. But I don't see it anymore. What story even could hold our world together now?

    But when I face the truth, all I see is a single question; do I want to be better, or just different? 

For a Moment in Time

 They say that the people who meet us
Are a part of our destiny.
That our futures are shaped 
By those the gods put
In our path.

I don't know if I believe that,
But I know that I see people
Changing me.
For a moment,
A small slice of time,
A piece of eternity
Before tomorrow swallows me whole.

I'll never know
If our world was meant to be this way.
If our past would only ever
Come together to form today.
All I know is that we matter,
That our voices were meant to be heard.
Whether by the gods
Or by the space that lies between us.

Destiny or not,
For a moment in time
I knew someone special.
Someone who made me 
What I am right now.
I don't know if I'll stay that person forever,
Or if I'll be separated from myself once more.

One way or another, 
I'm glad I got to meet you. 

A Town of One

    I'm glad that Blogger wasn't a big deal when I started. I'm glad that it's not a big deal now. Sure, nobody reads what I write, but I went in knowing that would probably happen. I didn't have high expectations, and it meets my needs. I'm not a great Novelist, nor an outstanding poet, but I have a Blog on the Internet somewhere. Some would be inclined to say that it's lame, but when I think about what I would have had to do to have a place to be heard even twenty years ago, I'm grateful to live in an era where what I say matters. 

    I may move someday, decide another platform would be better suited to me, but for now I'm content to be a sheriff in a town of one. 

The End of Twitter

    There are time when you have a lot of opinions on things. There are other times where you need to vent because you're sad. 

     Twitter's dying, if not already dead. There are some who say it'll live on for a while, others who say something else will replace it, but the majority opinion seems to be that Twitter is now gone for good. I share that opinion. The site may stay up, but the people are fleeing while they still can, fleeing to wherever they can find someone who will listen to them. 

     I was never big in the Twitter scene, but I liked having a place where I see what people were saying. I liked having a place where even a nobody like me could have a voice. I don't feel resentful, I've lost less than most, it just hurts to lose something you cared about, even if it shouldn't have mattered to you at all. 

The Invincible

     I used to think I'd only be free when I met the Dreamer and finally stopped needing to sleep. Now, I don't think that.

    Because I just defeated a Princess.

    I'm walking around the human city in daylight without a care in the world. If they come after me, I've got the Temple to go to. But who would dare do that?

   I just defeated a Princess. 

   I did also defeat a God, but any human can defeat a god when they're unprepared. Gods, like all Nightmare's, don't go lucid. The princess was prepared. She was ready to destroy me. But I defeated her first.

   Not in a very dignified way, but still. 

   I've defeated a Princess. From now on, I consider myself invincible. 

Who I Am

    My name is Kristen Peri Eliker. I run a blog on an abandoned corner of the Internet, so far out of sight that nobody will ever see it. I am the writer who brought Cassie into the world, and will soon bring so many others to light, even if they'll never be famous. As a star, I will never shine bright, but my light will last the longest, and I will die telling of what is, what was, and what will someday be. They will never give me power, but they can't take my choices from me. 

The Fairgrounds

    "A reminder to all citizens of Fairyland; all humans must be indoors after sunset."

     They've been playing that announcement on repeat for hours. Given that I'm in the Dreamworld, I'm not sure why their playing that announcement, unless the Fairyland has as many homeless humans as the human lands do. I don't know how I would tell, though. Humans don't sleep, so none of them ever has to enter a Dreamworld. 

   I've been wandering through the Fairylands for a few hours now. I think it must be at around midnight, though it's hard to tell in a Dreamworld, and the temple doesn't connect to Estellia time wise. I liked that about it at first, it meant that I could leave and not be missed, but now it feels like my life is twice as long as it would otherwise be, for no real reward. I keep trying to make time move in my mind, but every time I return, I find that time hasn't passed at all. 

    "A reminder to all citizens of Fairyland; all humans must be indoors after sunset."

    "Why do they keep saying that?" I ask no one in particular.

    "To get rid of the Druggies, dumbass!"

    I turn to see a vendor glaring at me. He seems to be running a basic carnival game, based on throwing a ball into a hoop. It's one of the most common games in the Fairylands. "You're a human?" I ask.

    "Do you see a nightmare form, idiot." the vendor says.

    "No." I tell him, "I can't see nightmare forms."

     He looks at me, his face scrunched up in an expression of what I can only assume is doubt. "You're not a Midnight Nightmare, are you?"

    "No!" I say, "I'm a human. I'm visiting from the Human lands." 

    "Really? Have you ever met a person from the human lands who sleeps? They leave all the hard work to us." 

    I don't want to go into the details. Most people don't understand why I need to sleep so much. 

    "A reminder to all citizens of Fairyland; all humans must be indoors after sunset."

    "I don't think they were making that announcement the last time I was here. What happened?"

    The vendor looks at me. "You've been here before?" He asks.

    I sigh. "Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I need to sleep. I can't remember a time when that hasn't been true."

    "That's ridiculous. Only Nightmares and people who will become Nightmares need to sleep."

    "Why are they telling people to stay indoors in the Dreamworld?" I snap. "Surely if people are in the Dreamworld then they're already inside? Doesn't the Fairyland have an Economy? I've read that most humans come here to make money."

    He looks down and sighs. "They do, but they never find a way to do it. You hunt and you hunt, but no one wants to pay you for anything around here. The only way to make money is to sell drugs, and in order to do that you have to buy drugs, and if you buy drugs they do everything they can to get you to use them. Once you use them, you're hooked. You'll do everything you can to get more drugs, be it stealing or killing. It's not too long before you're nothing more than husk of what used to be a person. I've talked to some people who've lost relatives this way, and they say that it's like watching someone dig a hole so deep, it'll never be filled up again."

   I don't know what to say. "That's awful. I'm glad we don't have that problem in the Human Lands." 

   "Don't be too proud." The vendor says. "I know the folks who live in the Human lands talk it up like they don't have issues, but I hear they send their kids out to work when they're as young as ten or eleven, and then when they can't find work they won't let them come back home."

   "They don't do that here?" I ask. I can't remember anyone in the village who didn't send their kids to the city. Not that I ever managed to find them.

   "No. It's barbaric. Five years ago the humans finally got tired of so many homeless teenagers and passed a law that said any human who couldn't find work in two years would get banished to a Nightmare World according to their alignment. I hate that law so much. It makes it that much harder to find work, and everyone is too stupid to know anything." 

   He stops for a bit, seeming realizing he's discussing politics with me, a person who doesn’t know anything. "Are you actually planning on playing?" He asks.

    I don't know. But it seems wrong to leave him after having taken so much of his time. I summon some money out of my back pocket and say, "No, but thank you anyway."

    "For what?" He asks.

     "For telling me everything you did." I say. I hand him the money, and then leave before he can ask any more questions.

     "You did hear what he said, didn't you?" A voice whispers in my mind, "If you don't find a job soon, they'll kick you out of the Human lands."

    "I've had a bunch of small jobs." I reassure her. 

    "Did you ever see a boss record your work?" The voice says. 

    Come to think of it, I don't think I did. 

    "A reminder to all citizens of Fairyland; all humans must be indoors after sunset."

    Okay, I've officially had enough of announcements. I'm going to one of the stage areas. There won't be any intercoms there at least.

    The Fairylands Dreamworld is filled with fairgrounds. Unlike the fairgrounds in the human world, these don't have a lot of places to buy things. You mostly just play games, which cost money to play. I don't know if they actually make money, since if you go lucid you can create all of the money you like, so long as you take it from somewhere like a pocket or a purse. At least, that's what I do.

    What I find odd about the fairgrounds is that they're always extremely crowded, and not with people. I don't mean that humans don't visit them, I mean that I think most of the crowds in the fairgrounds are fake. I can't put my finger on it, but they always look odd to me. I think the problem is that they're too complicated. If you had to ask me to imagine a human, I wouldn't imagine people like them. 

     This Fairground seems to be extremely popular. I haven't seen any fake people so far. I do see a lot of people hiding in between buildings counting money. I wonder if crime is a problem in the Fairylands.

    Inside each Fairground is at least one stage, where they have performances. From what I can tell, these all involve real people, and you don't have to pay for them. I always watch at least a few performances with each visit, even though most of them are a bit basic. Especially in the Fairgrounds people don't come to. Unlike the one I'm in right now. The crowd all seem eager to enter the door. I assume there's a free performance. 

   There's a guard in front of the entrance. There usually is, but this one seems especially unfriendly. He seems to be watching for trouble. As I'm about to enter the stage he says, "Do I know you from somewhere?"

     For a moment I panic, wondering if this is one of the guards that was in the truck. But I don't think it is. "No." I reply, not terribly convincingly. 

    He looks suspicious, but waves me in anyways. Once again my luck comes through.

     I enter to find there's no place to sit. That wouldn't be an issue, except that there's always someone blocking my view. Fortunately, this stage is high enough up off the ground that I can get a clear view. Unfortunately, there seems to be a man chained up in the center. 

    I've heard they have different standards for entertainment in the bigger fairgrounds, but I didn't know lots of people wanted to see a man chained up doing nothing. I can't help but feel sorry for him, and a little uneasy. I wish this were a juggling act instead.

   "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" A voice booms from off the stage. "WELCOME, ONE AND ALL, TO THE EXECUTION OF A CENTURY."

     The crowd murmurs. I get the impression none of them are that impressed so far. My ears hurt from the shouting. I look up to see the man shifting in place. I don't know what's going through his mind, but he doesn't seem happy to hear there's an execution.

     Wait, execution?

      I've read about these in books. Supposedly the Fairies and Monsters kill off those who do egregious crimes in the Shadow and Sorcerer lands. Neither Fairies nor Monsters have any laws, so they have to import those who do. I've never been to one before, but I hear they're a thing you never forget. 

    I feel excited and nervous. I'm told there's a lot of blood, and I've never seen blood before. 

    Suddenly, the lights go off. On the stage, a spotlight appears over the man, who I assume must be a criminal. Another spotlight appears over a woman. "Good night everyone," She says.

    "Good night your majesty." The crowd replies. 

     "So wonderful to see you, I didn't expect to see such a large crowd the day after my Coronation." 

      She hold out her hand off stage someone hands her a tiara. She puts it on top of her head. "I'm sure you'd all love to see a princess in all of her glory." She says. She starts spinning, and a silver dress materializes around her. It sparkles in the light. When she stops, she takes off the crown, and her dark brown hair spills cascades down her back. She smiles, the kind of smile that makes you think she could be your friend. 

    I have to admit, she looks the part of the princess. I know brown hair and brown eyes are normal, but the ability to win people over to you instantly is not. 

     Suddenly, the spotlight around her disappears, and the lights on the stage turn back on. She's back in the clothes she wore when she first stepped on stage, show clothes that all buskers wear, and her hair is now back in a bun. "I wish you could see my true self, but alas, we're about to get messy." 

    She walks to the center of the stage, and pulls a dagger from the inside of her shirt. "Tell me, do you know what crimes this man committed?"

    The crowd starts murmuring. I can't make out what anyone's saying.

     "Well, I can't tell you. What he did was so awful, the crime can't be spoken aloud. He came directly from the land of the Sorcerers, who tell me they caught this man doing heinous things. And do you know what we do to men who do heinous things?" She pauses and looks to the crowd.

     Out of the silence, I hear someone yell, "Kill them."

     She smiles, "Exactly."

     She stab the knife into the base of his neck, then carves it down the length of his body. I don’t hear him scream, but it could be because the crowd has started shrieking around me. I can't tell if they're excited or unsettled. I don't feel anything. 

    Then she rips the corpse open in a shower of blood. 

     I'm in the very back of the crowd, but I still get dribbled on. 

     I want to throw up, but throwing up while you're asleep is a bad idea. I did that once when I was small, and my bed got soaked. The doctor told me that I shouldn't do that again, because I might get vomit in my lungs.

    I run. I can't stand being here. The guard tries to stop me. I hear the crowd cheering behind me. 

    Suddenly the crowd begins to thicken around me, or maybe I'm just too scared. In my mind I see that man being ripped apart, and I swear I hear him screaming in agony. Or maybe not screaming, maybe it's just my mind pleading to be free of him. 

   I push through the crowd as fast as I can, not sure of where I want to go. I can't catch my breath. I have to sit down someplace. I make my way to a wall, then collapse against it, willing my body to calm down. Every thought in my mind is pressing against my temple. My lungs won't draw any air. I cry, not out of sadness, but because my body needs to release its emotions.

    The crowd doesn't notice. People collapse all the time. It's not a matter of concern. Not when there are games to play. 

     I should wake up. I don't want to, though. The temple, with its empty rooms, won't help. I need distraction. So I watch the crowd go by, some stopping to play games, most walking to get where they want to go as fast as possible. I'm entranced by it, so much so I don't see her until she's right on top of me. 

   "Well, who'd have thought? The human that James has been complaining about, right at my door step." 

    I look up. It's the woman who was on stage, killing that man. When I think that, I get angry suddenly. I don't know why. If he was up there, he did something to deserve it. But I can still feel the blood that dripped on me. 

    "What do you want?" I say.

     "I want to put you in prison." She replies.

    A smart human would run. A human with any life skills would know they can't beat a Nightmare. But I have no life skills, and I've fought dozens of Nightmares in my time sleeping. And I know that, within every Nightmare, there's a human who's weak to every attack. Including my necklace, my main form of attack. I yank it off and throw it at her.

    She just bats it away, "Why did you think that would do anything?"

     She lifts up her hand, and a wand materializes in it. At least, I think it's a wand. It's longer and thicker than you'd expect a wand to be, and it doesn’t have any markings on it. Too late, I realize she's about to hit me. I only just get the shield up. 

   "Ow!" She yelps.

   That would be my necklace. It starts to float next to me. It suddenly occurs to me that she said she was a princess. I don't know much about Nightmares, but I know that you have to be extremely powerful to become a princess. There's no way that a human has a chance against one. 

    I run as fast as I can. I feel what must be a spell come after me, so I put my shield back up. I turn to run, and I notice that she's right behind me. "You aren't getting away this time." She says, sounding annoyed. 

    "I've run away from Nightmares ever since I was little." I say. "I'm not letting you capture me." I send my necklace back at her. She tries to swat it away, but it gets her anyway. I keep going at her, and before long she realizes that it really doesn't do much damage. Before long she starts walking towards me with her wand held high.

   I back away. In a low tone of voice she says, "How are you planning on escaping me? I know that you must live in the Fairylands. Why would you be here otherwise? Do you somehow think you'll impress me enough to rise up in this world, you worthless child?"

     Okay, now I'm mad. I'm not saying that I'm not worthless, but I will never admit that too a Nightmare. All humans in the Human lands live there because we're proud of our humanness. We never, ever, demand power or respect from Nightmares, because we all know that we're better than them, it's just that the Nightmares are too low to admit that. I imagine myself stomping on her, tearing this Dreamworld to pieces. Beneath me, I can feel the Infinite begin to squirm.

    "I am not worthless. I was born in the Human lands and I'll die in the human lands, and I don't need your help to do either. I will fight you until I win, because I don't need Nightmare powers to destroy you. I am Cassandra Lumis, the one who Dreams Estellia into existence, and I will banish you like the bad dream you are."

    I really need to work on my taunts. Fortunately, for a princess she's extremely weak. She goes, then vanishes, right as I finish taunting her. I feel proud and happy.

     Then I wake up in my bed.

      "Oh, come on!" I say, to an empty room. "I just wanted to gloat for a bit." 

      I sit up. It occurs to me that I just beat a princess, and it wasn't even that hard. Fighting Alex's "demon", as she calls it, was harder. 

     I don't think it's a serious possibility, but I wonder if anyone would consider me a candidate for a Nightmare. Hey, what's a dreamer for if not to dream of the impossible? 

 I actually caught that I forgot to write a post for today. A few minutes too late, but still.

Points of Interest

 To think I'd live to see history
Banging at my door.
To think I'd live to see the things
We'd never seen before.

We talk of all the things great,
That existed in the past.
Of all things bright and beautiful,
Things too glorious to last.

Never did I think I'd be
Something interesting or fun.
I was told of greatness and glory,
Those things brighter than the sun.

But history's repeating,
Or maybe it just echoes.
One can only sit and watch,
As our time ebbs and flows.

I am now a point of interest
On history's great line.
Only the future ones will now
Whether or not I'll fade with time.

To think I'd live to see history
Banging at my door.
In youth I wished for greatness,
Now I wish I'd been a bore.

Our lives didn't need to be interesting
To be passed on down the ages.
I wonder whether we will listen
In any of our future stages.

     I wonder how many people agree with me that Twitter falling apart in such a drastic way will have a massive impact on the social media landscape. I don't think it'll kill it off, but I think the way social media works will be changed forever. 

     I'd ask why I can't shake this feeling that the world's about to end, but then I look at the news. 

Darius

    "So this is it, isn't it?" 

   I hold in my hand the most powerful Artefact in Estellia. Something with such destructive potential that it has twelve levels of security you have to clear. Once, I've been told, it lead to the fall of a Nightmaredom, until the gods corralled the user, a man named Dalton, and forced him into bondage. 

   It's innocuous, a little silly even, but one should not let appearances fool you.

   "Yes," The Artefact Master says, "This is the infamous Rubber Ducky of Doom, Darius."

   "I must ask, does it squeak when you squeeze it?" 

   "Please don't. I know it doesn't hurt, but I feel so embarrassed." 

   I jump, then look at my hand. It occurs to me, for the first time, that this duck's been looking at my face this whole time. I'm not sure how, the eyes appear to be painted on, but they most certainly are. 

  "I'm sorry." I say, "I was unaware that you were sentient." 

   I've never seen an Artefact that was sentient, though I'm told there have been many throughout our history. They've never been anything dignified though, like a sword or a crystal ball. It's always been things like yo-yos, cheap pens, fake jewelry, and stuffed toys. The department of Artefacts loathes such things, they say it's hard to tell them from normal things, and they don't follow the rules of Artefact creation. 

   "Well," I say, "I need your help, Darius. There's someone going around the Infinite causing trouble in the Infinite. I need you to find them."

   "Do you know what their name?"

   "No."

   "Do you know what they look like?"

   "No."

   "Do you at least know whether they're a human or a nightmare?"

   "No. I've only seen them once, you understand."

   "Then I'm not sure that I can help you. People are always stirring up trouble in the Infinite after all."

   "I see." I say, putting Darius down. "Then I guess I didn't need your help after all."

   "Don't feel bad." Darius says, cheerfully, "I think she'll attack someone else soon."

    "Who?" I say.

    "I think it might be the person who attacked you. She's off to the Fairylands to play, but the new princess want to banish all humans. I don't know what'll happen, but it looks like they're going to fight. Poor thing, I don't think she'll win, and this new princess is vicious." 

     I sit and think out loud. "So if I send a guard to the Fairylands, they'll be able to find her and capture her."

    "No. She won't be awake."

    "She'll be trying to fight someone while asleep!" I say. 

    I don't need to tell you that power doesn't work well when one or both parties are awake. It's why all humans provoke conflict when awake, and then never sleep. 

    "I think that's what she mostly does. Actually, I think she already fought you once already. And she… Won?"

     Darius blinks, using magic far beyond what I could ever do. "Wow," it says, "whoever she is, she's strong. She could take Dalton in a fight, and maybe even win."

    "I'm not sure." I say, thinking back to the human that attacked me. "What do you think I should do?"

     "Have an artist on sight to draw her picture. Then post it in all the Nightmare realms. Soon, she'll be in prison."

     "What if she lives in the human realm?"

    "They'll be even more desperate to find her. No sense in letting somebody put you in danger after all."

     "Okay." I say. "I'll send someone over then."

     I hand Darius back to the Artefact master. "Do you need any payment?" I ask.

     "No." The master tells me, "But if you could have a shipment of cotton balls sent over, that would be appreciated."

     "For cleaning purposes I assume." I say.

     "Yes," he says, "but they're also his favorite." He gives Darius an affectionate squeeze, not enough to make him squeak.

     "I'll send them over as soon as I can." I say, "And thank you, very much, for your help." 

  Just finished a really long section of my Estellian short story collection. I have to say, I feel like it's coming along really nicely. 

Alone in the Temple

     Day by day, life barely changes. 

    I didn't think being in the temple would ever be boring. It has every book that's ever been written after all. But now I can't stand it. 

     I can't leave either. The wanted posters are gone, but people talk about the new breaks in reality. I don't really know what it means. No one else seems to know either. All I do know is people are blaming the homeless for them. They know we can't run from pain. I'm lucky enough to have found a way to connect the temple to Estellia. Everywhere I go now, I see the bodies of those who weren't so lucky. 

    I should do something about this, but I don't know what. Trying to fight a God nearly got me put in prison. I know now that Estellia's a Dreamworld just like the temple is, but does that mean that I should shape it the way I would any other place in the Infinite. All I really know how to do is move doorways around and make small amounts of money. I don't know how to make the world a better place.

   One of my favorite stories is about a human who learns that lucidity is only making things worse for their friends and family. I always thought the ending was stupid, since they'd spent most of the book until that point making things better for everyone, even passerby, but then the last two chapters showed they'd only made life worse for everyone. I didn't think any of the examples, like a women killed by a train because she'd regained her ability to walk, made sense. Nightmares ruin our lives every day, and Alex has told me time and time again they don't do it for our benefit, so why should lucidity make life worse for people?

   Now though, I wonder if the book had a point. Is that what that person in the mirror was talking about? Am I just a person who uses Lucidity for evil?

   I wish I knew someone I trusted to tell me if I was doing the right thing.

  I look at the calendar on the wall of my study. It says it's getting close to the middle of spring. There should be a fair going on in the Fairylands right about now. I won't be able to go, since I'm a human, but they have a simplified version for their human citizens. I know, because I've been there multiple times. 

    I remember that there's usually a fortune teller. I know the fortunes they give humans are bogus, but right now even bad guidance would be better than no guidance at all. 

   I'll head there tonight while I'm sleeping in the temple. I don't want anything to happen by being awake in a Dreamworld. 

 I have a lot of blog Ideas, but I don’t have much I want to say right now. I’m too busy backing up all of my blog posts. I know my writing sucks, but that doesn’t mean that I’m okay with losing it.

Anarchy

 When did I stop loving society?
Why can I not see the good it brings us anymore?
Is it truly doomed to corruption and rot?
Or is that only what my injured heart is insisting is true?

Was it the pandemic that caused us to sicken?
Or did it simply kill us off?
Is the problem that our two parties won't talk?
Or do they simply have nothing to say?

Is society worth saving?
Is there a way to stave off the collapse?
If so many no longer believe it to be real,
How much longer until it gets torn apart?

The First Successful Social Media Platform

    Here's a hot take; we haven't seen the first really successful social media platform yet. I know there have been may platforms with hundreds of millions, if not billions, of users, but the issue is that most platforms start declining after roughly a decade of use. This isn't scientific, but the successful platforms I've seen so far in my life have a lifestyle that goes something like this; you start out with a cool gimmick that everyone loves, people flock to you and build lots of accounts, those accounts begin to befriend one another, those friends form networks, bullies and jerks from outside appear to start trouble, someone points out major problems with the way the site deals with minority groups, drama starts, people demand moderation, the site owners fumble, everyone gets angry,  the site get's sold to someone hoping to make a profit with no knowledge of how the site functions on a community basis, everyone leaves for the next big platform. 

    We all, I think, know this by now. The problem is that this process can take anywhere from a few years to a decade. I've been posting daily on a Blog with no followers, and I've already realized that transferring to another blog if I have to close this one for any reason would be a major hassle. Imagine doing that once a year, or worse, after spending a decade on a platform, amassing thousands of posts about your life and interactions with your followers. If the decades since the internet's inception are any indication, it's not IF you have to flee to another website, it's when. 

     So why is it like this? 

      In my opinion, my deeply uninformed opinion, it's a social problem, not a platform problem. Take Twitter, as an example. The cause of it's grief is that it was bought by Elon Musk, a man with the distinct dishonor of being deeply popular in one segment of the population, while being universally hated by pretty much everyone else. But because of the rules of capitalism, he was allowed to buy Twitter, even though most of Twitter's userbase didn't want him too. If that doesn't seem like that big of a deal, let me put it another way; imagine if, instead of electing a president, our country was just outright owned by Bill Gates. He's not Universally loved, but he knows how to keep people happy enough to not want to revolt against him. Mostly. Then, one day, Jeff Bezos decides he wants to own America, as a way of avoiding taxes on his Amazon warehouses. There's a lot of teeth gnashing, but the transfer goes through. The issue is that Jeff Bezos is much more disliked, and lacks Bill Gates' knowledge of how to keep people just happy enough to not want you dead. So the country starts to fall apart as people leave, revolt, and stop trying to keep America afloat.

     That's what's happening on Twitter. Only with one of the worst billionaires alive (who should be very grateful that Donald Trump hasn't kicked the bucket). 

     To me, the way to solve this is twofold; make social media more democratic, and make it so that the moderators are in regular contact with the people who use the site. One makes it so that Hostile Takeovers can't happen anymore, the other makes it so that people know why a post was flagged, and so moderators have a better idea of what people do and don't want to see. 

    I don't think people should be taking any advice from me, but I do think the real solution to our social media problem is going to come from learning more about the "social" part. I think that we, as people, don't really understand how society works, and why certain rules help or hurt. Economists have tried, but they only understand a small part of it. It's going to take a lot more time, and a lot more effort, on the part of academics and normal folk alike, to make the first truly successful social media platform. 

Calling to the Infinite

     I've been talking a lot about the death of Twitter, because honestly it's the only social media platform I have any connection with. But I have to say, I'm really appreciative of the fact that my Blog has no followers. I never realized it before, but I can just say whatever I want, without repercussions, and I don't have to worry about it going away, because I'm the one who owns it. 

    I don't think it's likely, but I wonder if there will eventually be an internet that's just made of loosely connected blogs, who comment on each other but never connect other wise. Maybe what we need is an internet with one big social media platform that everyone can go on, several mid tier platforms based on various subgroups, and stuff like my blog, sites run by idiots that nobody reads. That's the problem with the internet now, you're either on Facebook or you're running Train of Thought. 

The Coronation

     At last, after all these years of work. I've finally done it. I'm a Princess of Fairyland. Twenty two years old, and I'm on track to be one of the most powerful Fairies in Estellia. 

    I suppose, since I'm a God, I already was one, but Gods aren't involved in politics. Princesses are. I want to be political, if for no other reason than to prove that I can. 

   Naturally, they aren't giving me much to do. I have to open up a fair entrance, and oversee an execution. That's it. I wish I could start work right away, but I can't. I have to earn it, the way my father and mother earned their spots in the world. 

   I wish other fairies would stop complaining about me. I see their messages on Princess forums, stuff like, "I wanted to be a princess, but my parents needed me to work." Why they didn't just leave and make it on their own, I honestly have no clue. Humans are supposed to be the lazy ones, but I see far too many Nightmares, of all races, emulating them. 

    Well, what they think is no longer my concern. My job now is to make it as high as I can and do as much for society as possible. I aim to be the best at what I do. Nothing can stop me now. 

The End of Twitter

   Watching Twitter implode feels a little like being in 2017 again. It's horrifying, but strangely silly at the same time. You know that it's about to get awful, but everyone's being so silly that it's hard to take seriously. 

     In all honesty though, I'm a little worried. I couldn't care less what happens to Twitter, I only started posting things last year, and I stopped when I heard I might have to flee at some point. It's the people I left behind that I'm worried about. They didn't choose this, they never wanted this, some are rebelling as hard as they can. Most just seem to be lost and scared. They keep hearing that they have to fight, but they don't know how, they never signed up to be warriors of truth and justice. Worse than that, some may not want to fight, but they can't leave because they've built their entire lives on that accursed website. People are begging for an alternative to Twitter, one that might never come into being, because they don't want to have to stay and fighting is too overwhelming to them. 

    I will argue till my dying day that it should never, ever, be anybody's job to fight for justice. People should fight for the world they want, if all they ever do is fight to make the government hear them, that is the sign of tyranny. No world should ever be built on the idea the people are saints or can only survive if they are saints. That people seem to think it's okay to push people who don't want to fight into battle is appalling to me. Do we not all agree that drafting soldiers into a war they don't agree with is horrible? 

    The hard, horrible truth is that Twitter is dying. It's been dying for ages. What's going on right now is people hoping to keep it alive for just a little bit, just a while longer. But they can't. Nothing, be it living or nonliving, human or inhuman, real or imaginary, is safe from falling to the Infinite. 

The Dreamer

     "Are you really a human?"

    The voice seems to issue from nowhere. I turn to see my reflection.

    I didn't enter the temple from Estellia. I'm asleep this time. I couldn't think of a place to put the temple doorway that wasn't too conspicuous, so I'm sleeping on a bench at the library. Fortunately, the librarian knows me very well. 

    I must have been dreaming. I thought I got my dreaming over for the night, but apparently I didn't. I head down the hall, wanting to get to the study. I want to try and see if I can write a job I can keep into existence. I've never tried that before. Actually, I've never tried writing anything into existence. I just write about the world I see, and muse on the world that could be. Wow, that was a rhyme, I never thought I'd have any talent for poetry. 

   "Are you going to answer my question?"

    "Who the heck is talking? I know I didn't see anybody come… in…"

     In one of the mirrors, I can see my reflection, only too many details are off. She's wearing all black, while I always where a white shirt. Her hair is pulled up in a bun, while mine is always pulled back in a ponytail. She also looks way too calm and collected, the opposite of how I feel most of the time. 

     "Who are you?" I ask.

     "I'm you." She says, as though it weren't obvious.

     "No, you're not." I say. "I don't look like you at all." 

     "Then why do you see me whenever you look in a mirror."

     I'm about to tell her that I don't, but then I look around I see that my reflection has been replaced by her in every one of the mirrors. "What did you do?" I all but whisper.

   "I did nothing. This is all your doing. You can't expect to claim power without being changed."

   "You mean, into a Nightmare?"

    "No. Not that kind of power." She holds out her hand and produces a small ball of light. "This kind, the power of the soul. The power that lies at the heart of every Estellian, but that not one person would ever dare use. I hear they say it corrupts you, turns you into something evil." She closes her hands, and the light disappears, "I wonder, how willing are you to test that theory?"

    I'm confused. "Are you talking about Lucidity?"

    "Lucidity simply means that you can see that your world isn't real. Any fool can do that. What most won't do is admit that they are allowed to change the world into whatever form they want, so long as no one tries to stop them. Tell me, do you think people won't try to stop you from changing the world to be what you want it to be?"

   "I'm not trying to change the world. I'm trying to save it, to save us from the oppression of the Nightmares. What do you think this temple is for?"

    "If this temple is for the good of humanity," she asks, "Then why won't you let anyone see it."

    "I'd let them, if anyone else slept." I reply.

    "The Nightmares sleep, yet you don't let them near here at all. I see you spend most of your time fighting them." 

    "Nightmares and humans aren't the same." I yell.

    She looks at me, with an expression I can't read. I get the impression she feels that I'm being stupid. "What's the difference then? Would you be able to tell me, with absolute certainty, that a person was a Nightmare?"

    She's got me there. "No, but most people can." 

    "Do you not remember that Lucidity allows people to see the truth? Have you ever considered the possibility that the Humans and Nightmare are but one and the same race? That one was not meant to be food for the other, but that they were in fact meant to live in harmony?"

   "Were they?" I ask.

   "I don't know. History is quite fuzzy, as I'm sure you've no doubt noticed. One thing I must know before I depart. Knowing everything I told you, would you become a Nightmare if the chance was offered to you?"

    Puzzled, I say, "Well, no Nightmare would ever offer me up the opportunity, so I don't see how it's relevant. If I were the kind of human destined to become a Nightmare, I wouldn't be homeless in the Human City."

   "I see." she says, "Farewell, Dreamer."

 

  I awake with a start. The first thing that crosses my mind is how dark it is. I'm not normally awake this late at night, usually I fall asleep at dusk and wake up at dawn. I don't like being awake in the dark. It's like being in the Infinite, only everything can attack you at a moment's notice. 

   Then it hits me. Whoever that was called me Dreamer. As in, The Dreamer. The person who dreams all of Estellia into existence. 

    That can't be right, though. I'm not only a human, but nobody on either side of my family has ever even served a Nightmare, let alone become one themselves. Nobody would choose me as the Dreamer. Not even my parents, the only people who have ever loved me. 

   My brain turns over what she said, and I can't seem to just dismiss it. Plenty of people know how to ignore things they know are false, but I've never been able to do that. Maybe it's because most of the books that I read are fiction books. I know none of them are real, but I can imagine them so vividly that they feel real to me. 

    I try to imagine, now, what it must be like to be The Dreamer. You'd need a room, with a really nice bed to sleep on. You'd need someone to bring you food and water, because of course The Dreamer would have weaknesses stronger than even the strongest of High Nightmares. You'd need something nice to dream about, like home. 

  Not unlike my nighttime Dreams. 

  Was all of this an omen for me being The Dreamer? Am I letting myself be homeless and unhappy for no reason?

  That makes no sense. Humans only control things when they're asleep, right?

  Then again, I did see the Infinite while I was awake. I have been moving the temple from place to place, and sleeping in a bed in my house. 

  Maybe she's right. Maybe I'm not human after all. 

The Elon Musk Litmus Test

    In light of The Hostile Twitter Takeover (Elon Musk Edition), I think we've all learned a lot about each other. We've seen who will cuddle up to Elon Musk, who is willing to condemn him; who knows this will be a disaster, who thinks this is no big deal; who wants to leave, who is criticizing others for even saying they want to leave; who is focused on this and who is hoping this will all go away. I won't claim this is true, but I'm sure all of us now have at least one person we respect just a little less for not reacting the way we would in this situation.

    I don't have much of a presence on Twitter, nobody cares whether I leave or stay. But to all my follower, hear are my thoughts. I think Elon Musk is one of the worst people alive. His core philosophy, as far as I can tell, seems to be based on the "I'm rich, so I can do what I want" school of thought. He's basically a younger and slightly less ugly Donald Trump, and we should all be very grateful that he can't run for election. I think him gaining ownership of Twitter will be disastrous for everyone on the platform, especially those who need social media for there survival. Granted, from what I've heard that's less of a problem on Twitter than it would be on Facebook. This may, in fact, be a glimpse into the future of every current social media platform. I think that everyone who wants to leave should, whether they want to do so publicly or privately. I'm staying until I don't think it's safe anymore, which by my calculations should put my departure somewhere around the new year. I'm not tweeting, or talking, much about this, but I am paying the closest attention I can. 

      This isn't just about Twitter. What Musk does do, what he doesn't do, what he does but has to walk back, all of it will set the stage for what the downfall of social media will look like. It may not look like it to most, but at the edges I hear many muted rumblings of discontent. It's not that they can't talk, it's that the current environment isn't willing to let them be heard. 

    Whatever you have to say about the left, their presence lets other people know that they're welcomed and they won't be hurt. We're not warriors, we flee as soon as trouble comes because we know better than anyone else what trouble brings. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, if you give people enough to live comfortably, they'll let you get away with anything. The people in charge now aren't interested in giving us anything. They're willing to let people like Musk, and Trump rule the world with no consequences. So long as they aren't afraid for their lives, they don't give a damn. 

    I don't think the goal should be to win this fight. If you want to fight, or you don't want to go down wishing you'd done more, than fight all you can. But don't ruin yourself. This isn't the fight we have to win. That would be a much bigger fight, one that encompasses all of humanity, even the ones who don't live in what western people think of as civilization. If our goal is for our species to live forever, we need to move past the idea that Society comes before everything else. This includes Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram, but it also includes our current government system. If it's not meeting our needs, then something has to change. We can't keep building worlds assuming that our descendants will be better people than we are. 

        I think we need to stop trying to save the world. We need to focus on what we need to build to replace it.