Posts by ironrider11

So, was your last gig just sitting there with a machine gun?
Anyone here actually know what they're talking about? Like, can anyone actually get the right answer?

Maria Price3 said:Reading your posts feels a bit like looking in a mirror from years ago—which isn't exactly helping. I probably shouldn't read too much more, otherwise I might slip right back into that "angry mode" that’s always so easy to fall into. As for "getting back what others took from you"—forget about it. And "chasing justice"? Why bother wasting the energy?

On another note, I wanted to share something about forgiveness. I stumbled upon this—it was probably on Pinterest or some similar site (I know, I can be pretty superficial sometimes, but that doesn't really matter now)—and it felt almost like a prayer. It wasn't entirely insignificant; it actually gave me pause. Honestly, it's been a struggle for me to let certain things go for a long time.
Stupid as it might seem, it goes like this:

Buddhist Prayer of Forgiveness if

If I have harmed anyone in any way either knowingly or unknowingly
through my own confusions I ask their forgiveness.

If anyone has harmed me in any way either knowingly or unknowingly
through their own confusions I forgive them.

And if there is a situation I am not yet ready to forgive
I forgive myself for that.

for All The ways that i harm myself, negate, doubt, belittle myself,
judge or be unkind to myself through my own confusions
I forgive myself.

If slipping back into "anger mode" is actually easy, doesn't that just mean the question you asked hasn't been answered at all? It’s like the answer was just pushed onto a waiting list—waiting for the right timing, the right skill, or even just the chance to finally settle it once and for all. If we're talking about settling things forever... look at guys like Joseph, Adolf, Benito, Mao, Paul, Idi, Judas, or Vlad the Impaler. No matter how much they differ, aren't they all basically no different from any other "next big villain" in history?...

What kind of system actually raises kids these days? Are we talking about living out of pure necessity, or just surviving a cycle that’s fundamentally broken, painful, and anxious? Even if you bury it deep under some heavy-duty self-defense mechanism, it's still there... Just existing like this. "Forgive me, God—if you even exist—because I'm essentially my own god now, deciding whether to forgive or not, but honestly, it feels like I just can't figure out how, what, or why I keep doing what I do..."

Kids who vape just to find some semblance of peace—never actually finding it—are basically high-speed machines for molding themselves into these weirdly specific caricatures. Depending on how much their inner demons of angst and frustration are acting up, they can turn into anything from petty little nuisances and self-absorbed jerks to full-blown ego-tripping sociopaths... or even top-tier, hardcore misanthropes. Those guys are actually impressive in a dark way; they dedicate their entire lives to devaluing the whole concept of human life and mortality. They make existing, or just playing around with existence, feel more vibrant or interesting. To them, true peace—that absolute Zen state—is just nothingness. It's a flatline on a heart monitor. If you aren't oscillating, vibrating, or resonating, you aren't really moving... so you exist. I guess. Maybe...

They’re just playing their parts. It’s all happening behind closed doors, totally invisible to anyone watching... acting like cold-blooded, brutal sadists. They’re basically guarding their own private Panopticon where they’re the prisoner, the warden, and the judge all at once. No mercy allowed from the God Pan. Forgive yourself? Forgive yourself for what? For being exactly who you are—or whatever else is driving those dark, hidden gears of the universe that feel so damn predetermined... right?

Forgiving your own sins? That’s a tall order. But trying to forgive someone else—anybody else, really—is even harder. It's always some other person, someone who isn't nearly as important as I am, and they just don't get it. They have no clue what they're doing, just like I don't. Yet, they still managed to pull some unforgivable, absolute bullshit on me... It takes constant effort, a massive drain on your energy, just to build and maintain this thick shell of frustration. Maybe it's easier that way, though. Less effort, less energy spent trying to hack through the thorns of life... especially if you're a vampire by nature, just built that way. You just keep pushing toward that one final goal: peace... death...

It’s packed with innocent kids, constantly interacting, providing each other this social platform where they feed into the same vicious cycle of nasty little habits... just hunting for some kind of soulmate to connect with on an intimate level. But through that whole predetermined loop, they end up knowing themselves less and less as time goes by. Not that it matters. In the end, regardless of anything—all is forgiven. And forgotten.

A person dies three times in their life. First, when innocence dies. Second, when naivety dies. Third, when the hollowed-out husk remains, aimlessly wandering while the world moves on around them. You’re born just as many times. Once when you emerge from nothingness as the pure essence of life, again after innocence is gone, and a third time once naivety has died. With every death and rebirth, you drift further from that thin line separating existence from nothingness, getting closer to the edge where everything fades back into the void. Maybe you get a little wiser along the way. Wiser about letting go. About forgiveness. Just criticism, just judgment, just being alive, just importance...

Maybe it's because they see how fleeting everything is, riding that lifelong illusion of self-preservation. Or maybe it's because dementia—or just the general psychophysical slide down the Gaussian curve—forces them back into that long-forgotten state of carefree, childish innocence. That margin between the light and the void might just be a single point, a revolving door of entry and exit, after one long, lucid dream fueled by a lifetime of war stories...

Frustration—and everything that drags behind it—is probably a massive overstatement. Just let go, man. Let go of the shadow self. Let go of everyone else, even if you're handing them a poisoned gift like a bunch of malicious kids playing games and creating their own reality...

Oh—my shadow—how I loved you.

What’s the point of all that physical training—besides just making more kids—when you can just walk into a store and grab whatever psychoactive stuff, booze, or junk food you want legally? It's right there...

Isn't that just the daily grind when you're trying to "find yourself"? You run into your own reflection like you're meeting some stranger you can't wrap your head around, regardless of the abc... Or maybe it's that deeper, more raw moment where you finally look in the mirror that way and realize you've been living a massive lie about who you actually are. It’s kind of a wake-up call to how much we all just make stuff up about ourselves...

Look, you lived on your own for five years before this. So why the sudden move back in with them at 37? And what's the deal with the meds—antidepressants, antipsychotics like Thorazine... what's the fallout there? How does someone go from having total freedom to being completely shut in and just obsessively studying without even pushing back? If I'm reading you right, studying isn't even something you actually care about... Did you ever work? Try a career? There’s a massive gap in your history here, and honestly, it makes this whole "help me" thread feel like a complete waste of time...

Benjamin Alvarez18 said:Thanks for reaching out, ironrider11, and for having that specific... what should I call it? That way of looking out for everyone else, I guess. It’s tough being stuck inside four walls all day—kind of like what was mentioned in that one thread about the meaning of life—since we're basically social creatures by nature. So, I suppose the real answer lies in actually getting out there and socializing, right? Maybe...??

I try not to project too much onto other people. Honestly, I just blab whatever pops into my head, and usually, I'm still alive and kicking. If the person I'm talking to doesn't take offense right away, maybe there'll be some back-and-forth conversation. Maybe enough for everyone to get something out of it—for themselves, obviously. We're social creatures only when we need to be. To satisfy our own needs...

I was asking about the outlines and contours; basically, looking for a starting point to figure out how to disperse Crnjak. You can be left in a hospital. In a psych ward. You can be "one of them," left in a hospital. In a psych ward. A Crnjak can be... anything. Anything is possible when someone uses such vague dashes while rambling in a reply. If they wanted to be better people in their own eyes, wouldn't they see that leaving you in a hospital or a psych ward isn't necessarily the best way to set a starting point for finding some way to disperse Crnjak... which is still just a blurry idea somewhere out there...

If you "aren't social or friendly," how do you expect to change things? How do you think the negativity will just vanish on its own if you want things to get better? And what even are these "I'm here, but I'm not really here; I exist but I don't" kind of Crnjaks?

Benjamin Alvarez18 said:They actually tried to keep me in the hospital yesterday, but I somehow managed to wiggle my way out... I don't know. I guess I just need to work on being a better version of myself... maybe then the darkness will finally fade away

So you got an actual plan, or are you just gonna sit there waiting to notice the outlines of what "becoming a better person" even looks like?...

Harold Rogers6 said:

I suppose I should probably mention this... regarding descenders. It’s one of those things you don't really think about until you're staring at a layout and everything feels slightly off. You know, those parts of letters like 'p' or 'q' that drop below the baseline. It's funny, in a way. If you don't manage them right, the whole visual rhythm just breaks. Everything looks cluttered, or worse, unbalanced. I guess it's a bit like trying to level a coffee table in an old apartment in Chicago—you think it's fine until you set your mug down and realize there's a wobble somewhere in the foundation. Maybe it's just me being overly particular, but I find that paying attention to those little details makes a massive difference in how readable a piece actually feels. Just a thought, I suppose. kaže:
It’s official, I suppose. We’ve entered a new century, supposedly living in this "modern world," though... well, there's a lot to be said about that. I find myself wondering about the people from the previous century—not just those who were technically alive, but those who actually felt *alive*, if you catch my drift. In this supposedly advanced era, is it even possible for someone like that to hold onto what once gave life meaning? To cling to actual happiness? And how would they even begin to pass that on to a modern child? A kid who, maybe because their parent chose to let go of the past, has absolutely no clue what things used to feel like. They don't recognize the old ways, let alone cherish them. Is it just a generational gap? Or is it something deeper? It feels like the divide grows wider when the very fabric of our values and information seems to mutate faster than we can keep up with. Maybe.

How do you even begin to talk to a kid who doesn't get it? They don't have that sense of "how things used to be," so they just end up whining or making a scene about everything. I suppose there’s a certain human instinct in that discontent—it’s like a catalyst for progress, a constant craving for more, better, faster—but still, it can be exhausting. I guess you could try explaining how much of a blessing modern life actually is through a bit of comparison. Like, on one hand, you have central heating running 24/7. There isn't this whole morning ritual of hauling wood just to get a single stove going to heat the entire house. Or take food, for instance. A decent cut of meat was once a genuine luxury. And meals... well, back then, eating felt tribal, almost primal. You didn't eat because a clock told you it was exactly 8:00 AM or because some calorie-tracking app or dietary fad told you that you needed exactly this many nutrients at this specific hour. You ate when you ate. Even clothes and shoes weren't really about expressing your individual style or fashion sense; they were just practical items passed down from one family member to the next. It’s all just... different. Maybe if they understood that, the complaining might subside, but I don't know.

Then again, there’s a certain perspective belonging to those who were born, raised, and shaped by much leaner, vastly different times. For them, memory serves as a sort of sanctuary—a way to reach back and reclaim small fragments of who they used to be. It’s about that person who lives, struggles, and fights for something (and someone... building a sense of self in the process), including you, I suppose. They stumble, they get back up, and they keep pushing forward, trying to achieve something, to find some kind of fulfillment. To truly realize themselves. But then comes that realization in this modern era, where their own child watches them with visible disgust and confusion. The child watches while the parent indulges in those petty, little dishonesties—the kind of small-scale scavenging one might have done decades ago just to get by. There's this disconnect where the child can't even wrap their head around the parent's basic manners or their lack of consideration for others. It's as if the kid is repulsed by the very essence of who the parent is. It’s a strange paradox, I guess, to live in a world that feels like it’s moving faster and offering less, only to be judged by your own blood for the very survival instincts that once defined you.

Even if I was exaggerating a bit, maybe my earlier "Option B" wasn't actually that extreme. Looking at the century we live in, perhaps the comfort comes from just being blissfully unaware of how much of a grind life becomes when the systems around us fail. When things hit you out of nowhere—like a global pandemic or an economic collapse and everything trailing after that—it doesn't matter what century we're in. If you find yourself in a situation where basic necessities like toilet paper, running water, sewage systems working on the 18th floor, cleaning supplies, or even bread and milk become scarce, then maybe it shows how unprepared modern generations really are. Not to cause panic or hysteria, obviously, but it makes you realize how little people can grasp what life would look like once our current standards of comfort are devalued. It’s hard to imagine surviving, let alone actually living—almost like existing on a purely animalistic level.

I guess if there’s any love involved, maybe it isn't such a bad thing to indulge in a bit of repetitive practice every now and then—just as an excuse to let the imagination run wild. You can play around with different possibilities, using some kind of mental construction of who someone used to be, or perhaps just leaning into empathy for their past self. It’s not about overdoing it or forcing some "Option B," but rather just... descending to where they are. Just finding a way to enjoy their company in a manner that feels authentic and decent to them, rather than sticking strictly to my own rules. Maybe you have to allow yourself a moment of being less than your usual, rigid self. I tend to be that person who needs everything to be absolutely perfect—someone who is almost pathologically pedantic about things having to go exactly my way without a single error. But sometimes, you have to let go of that stiffness. You allow someone you actually care about to remain exactly who they were, not out of mere tolerance, but by making a genuine effort to build a world around them that fits their way of life instead of yours.

If you don't—or maybe if you just don't quite feel it—it’s possible to look at everyone and everything through a comparative lens against yourself, and find plenty of reasons to just get away from it all as quickly and permanently as possible. We all have this little micro-universe inside us where we surround ourselves with people who fit our specific mold, folks whose patterns of thought and behavior mirror our own. It’s about staying within that bubble of self-comfort, surrounding yourself with like-minded people, and avoiding anything outside that circle unless it becomes absolutely critical. Or necessary. There be Dragons.

That’s a really interesting take, though I think it misses the mark slightly in this specific instance. A few years back, I might have actually agreed—maybe I would have prayed that Satan would let me be one of those modern kids who complains to their elders about living in the wrong era...
The father spent fifteen years following him through outdated jobs and obsolete mindsets (building up some sort of mid-century relic mentality?), all because of this lingering regret over "better days" and seeking solace in... well, drinking. And that sense of regret has been dragging on for thirty years now. 🙄
I could write about rural America and what I see there—about sons who follow their fathers into lives stuck in the past and how they struggle to navigate the world today.
About their attempt at 'fitting in' to this current era...🙄
It would probably turn into a pretty grim subject, but that isn't the point here. No, that wasn't what was intended.
...

When people engage in these little online debates—throwing around opinions and perspectives—they tend to project too much onto things, almost like they're reading comic strips. Someone who’s had one too many might end up overanalyzing everything, seeing ghosts where there aren't any. Not that it matters much, since they're usually just reacting to a fleeting moment anyway...

A person gets stuck in the past, or maybe they just can't let go of how things used to be, and they fail to connect with the present. So what? When you actually look at the big picture, isn't the real question why someone would be stealing food from their own family's pot right in their own house? What kind of "frustration" drives someone to be so selfishly consuming everything and everyone around them without a single thought for anyone else? That’s the real lack of empathy right there...

It's possible to talk about someone "living off someone else's plate"—something you don't see much in those shallow caricatures, though most people ignore the reality of it. You could try to unpack why someone does that and what's actually driving it. If it's necessary. If it doesn't get too heavy or veer too far away from the simple point we were supposed to be making...

Harold Rogers6 said:That's a very vivid Option B... but...
Aren't we living in some "new" century?
Some "new" world?

... ... ...

In some "old" world, maybe we could have slaughtered a cow and shared it—me with the heart and neck, and him with... I don't know, some other part. A kidney?
Or perhaps we could just take a pot full of grits and, well... as you put it... symbolize the transition of roles..?

,,,
Reality might be Option C. Maybe. A person was happy once... a long time ago... back when people lived simply, without rules, free, out in the rural countryside, poor... The question back then was whether there were even three spoons in the family, or if there was a single fork, or if there was even a plate at all... so you just ate... however... in a pile...🙂
The question was whether there was more than one pair of shoes for two or three kids...
There were all sorts of questions, but somehow, people seemed happy during those times. And I get the impression we return to that often. We reflect... we apply it... we remember...

...
...
...

I'd actually love to hear/see an Option B that fits the century. Something B. decent, let's say...

It’s official. We’re in a new century, supposedly living in this "modern world," but honestly... I don't know about all that. A guy from the last century—someone who wasn't just breathing, but actually *living* (you know, happy)—could he even exist in this mess? Could he still cling to what actually made life worth living? And how would he even explain that to his kid today? A kid who probably grew up completely clueless about how things used to be, let alone caring about old-school values... maybe the parent gave everything up just so the kid wouldn't have to know. Is it just a massive generational gap? Probably feels even wider when the rules and the info dump change this fast every single day...

How do you even talk to a kid who doesn't get it? They have zero concept of "how things used to be," so they just spend all day whining and making drama out of nothing. I get that human nature is built on being dissatisfied—that restlessness is what drives progress, the constant hunger for more, better, faster... but still. You try to explain how much of a blessing we actually live in, but it's hard to make them see. Like, we've got central heating running 24/7. There was no waking up at dawn to chop wood just to get a single stove going to heat the whole house. A decent steak was a luxury back then. And eating? It wasn't this calculated, clinical thing where you track exact calories or follow some strict meal plan to hit specific macros. People ate when they were hungry, gathered around a pile of food like a pack, and actually enjoyed it. It was primal. Clothing wasn't about expressing your "personal style" or following trends either. You wore what worked, and clothes were passed down from one person to the next because that’s just what you did. It was survival, not a fashion statement...

Look, for someone who actually grew up in those lean, gritty times—times that feel worlds away from today—those memories are the only sanctuary left. It’s where you go to find bits and pieces of who you used to be. You spend your whole life grinding, fighting, and pushing forward just to build something... or maybe just to build yourself. You struggle, you fall, you get back up, all to reach some kind of goal. Self-actualization, right? But then you hit this realization in the modern era. You look at your kid, and they’re watching you with pure disgust. They don't get it. While you're over here just trying to scrape by, scavenging whatever little scraps you can find to survive—just like back in the day—they’re looking at you like you're some kind of animal. They can't even stand the sight of you, let alone share a meal with you. It’s a total paradox... living in a world where everything is supposedly more abundant, yet you've never felt more disconnected from the next generation...

Look, even if I was being a bit extra before, maybe my "Option B" wasn't actually that extreme? Given how much we rely on our comforts, it’s easy to stay ignorant about how brutal life gets when systems fail. When things hit the fan out of nowhere—think a global pandemic or an economic meltdown like the Great Depression—and everything starts getting restructured, it doesn't matter what century we're in. If basic stuff like toilet paper, running water, sewage working from a high-rise, cleaning supplies, or even just groceries becomes scarce, you realize how clueless modern generations are. No panic or hysteria intended, but most people can't even wrap their heads around what a life without these standards looks like... let alone how to actually live, almost like animals, just trying to survive...

If there's any love left in you, then maybe it isn't such a bad idea once in a while to use your imagination. You could try to step into someone else's shoes—call it empathy—and without going overboard with Option B, just meet them where they are. Enjoy their company in a way that's decent and fits their vibe. Give yourself permission to stop being that rigid version of yourself who needs everything to be absolutely perfect and strictly by the book. Let someone you actually care about just be who they are in this modern age, rather than trying to force them into your own mold...

But if there isn't, or if you don't really care (honestly, self-love usually outweighs caring about anyone else anyway), then it's pretty simple: compare yourself to everyone and find every reason to get away from them as fast as possible. Just build your own little bubble where people think and act exactly like you do. Surround yourself with your own kind and, unless it's absolutely necessary, never leave that comfort zone. There be dragons...

Lawrence Wells said:The best stuff always comes 😁

So Lawrence Wells thinks that's how it works. Statement's invalid... 😬

Harold Rogers6 said:That... that quote is exactly what I was getting at. It’s a lot easier to process things when you see other people's perspectives, when you can 'verbalize' the issue, and so on.
In my view, that's the whole point of this place, and I think this topic is a bit of a breath of fresh air compared to the usual modern-day problems we see here.
...
I experienced the whole thing as a total mess and a kind of humiliation—mostly because the old man acts like he's the big boss, even though he hasn't earned that status. But reading these posts from other users acts as a sort of neutralizer.
So, just go on. My goal is being met, so thanks for that! 👍

Edit: I did move out, but I had to come back for a little while because of a virus. I'll be moving out again soon!

That would be A. possibility. Option B. possibility might be this: imagine if the old man acted like a happy little puppy who just loves his guy so much he practically pees himself with joy. Instead of those subtle eye rolls and disgusted faces, what if—when you intentionally provoke him by drooling over the food bowls—you just trot up to the "criminal caught in the act" like a buddy? You pull a spoon out of your pocket, sit down next to him with a huge grin, and join in on his routine of trying to "disgust" you...

The thing is, in his head, you're just his offspring... just a tiny part of him. Eventually, once you grow up, you've gotta step up and take over as the alpha, which means his job is done. Picture this: you both start scavenging through the bowls, licking and slurping... actually, nah, forget that, considering how much slobber is flying back into the bowls. As the new alpha, you use a spoon or a fork—maybe even a knife—to grab the best bits. And even though he instinctively lunges for the prime cuts, he'd humbly pull his spoon away from them, basically performing a public ritual to show everyone that the power dynamic has officially shifted.

hiddenmarlin14 said:I see two likely reasons here:

1. He’s unsure if he’ll actually like the flavor, so he just wants a taste first.
2. He doesn't want to mess up the plates.😛 Is that because he's trying to save himself the dishwashing, or is he thinking about whoever else in the house has to deal with the cleanup?🥳

Does this necessarily have anything to do with psychology?🤔 Maybe.🍿 I mean, you don't exactly eat straight out of the serving bowl when you're at a restaurant, right?🤔

What’s to say someone isn't out there stealing underwear while they're alone at home, or maybe they've just been doing it since they were kids and carry that habit everywhere? Who knows... psychology...Maybe it’s some kind of psychoactive stuff from Microsoft... people either get banned or they just get a pass to do whatever they want... psychology...Honestly, when things get hot, most people just strip down without giving a second thought to what anyone else thinks...

Deep down, way beneath all those layers of psychology, being naked is just natural. It’s like how it might be more instinctual to just sear some meat instead of cooking it, maybe grab a quick drink of blood first before you even start chewing—assuming there aren't any big predators lurking around. You just take whatever scraps are left over and bring them back to the den... for the kids. It’s really just a few layers of ritualistic practice... psychology... What actually separates us from animals?

Proper social distancing—not just for germs, but as a way to heal and prevent burnout—might actually be the secret fix for chronic exhaustion. You’ve gotta calculate exactly how much space you need to put between yourself and the energy vampires, and maybe even watch where you're getting your fuel from. It makes you wonder... can an energy vampire get burned out too? Maybe they're even targeting people on purpose... If you can't step away, then that might be the real heart of psychological burnout, with the "drainer" just being one more symptom showing exactly how much help you actually need...

Frank Flores63 said:Once you strip away all the conditioning surrounding sex—all the taboo-driven nonsense, the forced moralizing, and those redundant over-analyses filtered through the preconceived biases of certain social groups—what’s left is just a naked woman and a naked man engaging in intercourse. There is absolutely no need to attach some petty, small-minded disdain or pseudo-intellectual scrutiny to the act itself.
It always comes back to this supposed concept of respect or self-respect within a framework of morality that is, frankly, entirely relative... I suppose we just need to check what some papal encyclical has to say about it to be sure.
A woman lives her own life; she’s been an adult for a long time now. Who are we to go sticking our noses into her personal choices?

Is it really that simple, though? When you look at the raw mechanics of how humans actually function, everything else falls away. You're just left with the bare essentials: a female body and a male body (and yeah, age matters too). These instincts pull people together, even when reproduction isn't even the point anymore. People say "Money makes the world go round," but they're wrong. Everything else is just cognitive noise that muddies the frequency of our actual drives. At the core of everything, beneath all the bullshit, there's just that primal urge... "Go and multiply." And they do.

Angela Morgan said:The shortest post in history.🙂

There was also... shorter...Let's go... let's get it... 🙂

Back to the topic. Are people over fifty more likely to be confused than those under fifty? Like, seriously out of it... sometimes even bad...

Lies?

There’s nothing original about me. I’m just a mashup of every single person I’ve ever met.

Is anyone actually unique? Or are we all just a copy-paste collage of everyone else—like picking up someone's specific duck face or fish gape in a selfie, then slowly absorbing it until it feels like yours? Maybe the actual percentage of who we are as true innovators versus people just tweaking someone else's idea is incredibly low. Most of what we call "knowledge" is just copying an inventor and trying to apply it to our own lives...

Getting married, having kids? If you finally check those boxes to fulfill some "dream," maybe you'll realize that doesn't make you any more authentic. Does having a "real life" make your existence feel less manufactured? Think about how many parents are just desperately trying to mimic the lifestyles they see around them. 😬 Is a massive earthquake acting as a "memento mori" or a "carpe diem" moment? Just a reminder that the clock is ticking faster than ever? A midlife crisis? When did that even hit you? And if it did, what do you tell that "impostor syndrome" voice in your head?

If you don't know what you want... you end up with a lot you don't.

Look, maybe other people are pulling it off, but if you're out here building a house of cards and it just keeps collapsing in your face... maybe it’s time to switch things up. Try building with dominoes. Or Legos. Or mud. Or sand. Honestly, doesn't matter what the material is. Just use whatever makes you feel like you're actually getting somewhere. It's about finding yourself in the process of building, not the finished product. You find yourself by constantly working on that structure, that temple, that little sanctuary of yours... xyz. Somewhere out there... in a space that actually feels right, where a house—never truly finished, but always evolving—could actually feel like home.

Eventually, sooner or later, some big bad wolf is gonna come out of nowhere and tear the whole thing down for good. It makes you wonder why we even bother rejecting the idea of a nomadic life just to chase this concept of "security." That need for stability usually only exists for a little while, assuming you're lucky enough to turn it into a physical reality—that dream of being settled in a permanent, safe house. But nothing stays put. Except for change itself. All those ideas of a "cemented," unbreakable version of yourself... the ones that seem pretty set in stone at xyz... they aren't as permanent as you think. Whatever.

Benjamin Alvarez18 isn't her degree, isn't some dream job or a soul-crushing grind she's stuck in, and it sure as hell isn't her bank balance. It’s not some inherited fixer-upper on the outskirts of Chicago or a massive mortgage on a city condo that got trashed in a disaster... It's all of that, obviously. Just like everything else "trivial" people obsess over daily to hide the real question: who is Benjamin Alvarez18 actually, if not just this carefully maintained, supposedly "successful" construct of a self? A self that occasionally, totally out of nowhere, just dissolves into fine stardust. And now, after a catastrophe unlike anything seen before, the whole house needs rebuilding from the ground up. Using stardust as cement. Reinforced concrete...