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the center of the spider's web // on grief

 Grandma died before medical school started, which was convenient.  She died in April. April 28th, 2025, at roughly 3:23 pm. (I counted the breaths). She died after I quit my job. She died after hearing I got into medical school. She died after a fit of lucidity, where she woke up and saw everyone in the house just for her. My five uncles, my aunt, me and as many cousins as could rush to her side.  She died at sort of the perfect time.  She had the best possible death. She died surrounded by her family she loved, in the house she'd lived in for decades, holding the hand of her husband of sixty years. She died hopped up on as much morphine as we could give her. For the broken ribs, for the failing heart, for the fluid in her lungs.  "Best possible death" - like there is such a thing.  But I chant it in my mind. I let it run like a lo-fi radio station in the back of my brain, because it's the only thing that keeps me in a mild state of sanity.  Grandma d...
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To Wills, On Grief

1. Wills      I think I was thirteen or fourteen when I first met Wills. He was a newcomer at the dojo I exercised at. My first impression of him was: oh wow, he looks really nice.  A confusing thought to have, when you've never had that kind of thought before, and that was pretty much the start and end of the logic of my first crush.     That sounds really mean. Crushing on Wills was not some horrible illogical mistake. He was charismatic, friendly, tenacious, playful. He adapted quickly to the family-esque dojo culture we had. A few of the senseis saw themselves in him and took him under their wing. The jujitsu instructor we had, in particular, made him something like a protégé.      I, of course, being - I think a year or two younger than him? - and madly infatuated with him, have all his other traits rose-colored. I remember someone saying he was hot-headed, and some others mentioning he had a little bit of an ego. Ten years on, I can see...
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Sobriety from League of Legends

      My tumultuous relationship with League of Legends is a tragedy best served in three parts. It's half a crime, half a medical condition, and 100% a story that requires careful documentation. I feel it a proper introduction to the kind of person I am.  The Victim.     I don't like video games.      I feel this a very broad generalization that isn't actually very accurate. It's more accurate to say I did not grow up playing video games. I have no "gamer sense". One really good video on the topic is " What Games Are Like for the Non-Gamer " by Razbuten (which, admittedly, I've only watched part of because ... video games don't interest me.) Qualifying that last statement - I don't actively seek out new games to play. It's just not a hobby of mine.     Some things to put this to scale: I've never finished a Pokemon game. I couldn't get past Waterfall in Undertale. The only game I can claim to "know" and have played ...
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Testing Testing, 1-2-3

 A little   HELLO WORLD test run post.  Hm. I am avoiding doing more work.  ✎✎✎      There's an interesting tip on the internet for people who are afraid of using a blank sketchbook.      This might sound completely silly to people who have never had a truly marvelous sketchbook (or notebook? Or some equal equivalent of something lovely and unruined?), but it's a very real fear. You get this Thing created for the sole purpose of you putting your mark on it, and you can't help but feel the looming sense of dread that whatever you mark up on the Thing will inherently ruin it.     I have a beautiful watercolor sketchbook made for the sole purpose of watercolor. I've done 2 drawings in it and immediately became so mortified of the horrifying visage of the child I'd created, that much like Dr. Frankenstein, I've completely abandoned it.      Anyways.     The tip goes, when you get a sketchbook, just doo...
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