From 98a63b0c84df27ac24b1470291c2babceb521f20 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Madison Rye Progress Date: Mon, 10 Jun 2024 13:47:45 -0700 Subject: [PATCH] update from sparkleup --- writing/post-self/idumea/006.md | 4 ++-- 1 file changed, 2 insertions(+), 2 deletions(-) diff --git a/writing/post-self/idumea/006.md b/writing/post-self/idumea/006.md index 7e43cea5..f7ba0f65 100644 --- a/writing/post-self/idumea/006.md +++ b/writing/post-self/idumea/006.md @@ -2,7 +2,7 @@ The Woman has always been The Woman. This is the way of the world. -The Woman was born Michelle Rachel Hadje in 2086. On a January night, she was born. Anna Judith Hadje screamed and screamed and breathed and breathed and breathed and, with a gasp or sigh or groan or moan, Michelle took a breath and, after a scant few seconds, wailed. +The Woman was born Michelle Rachel Hadje in 2086. On a March night, she was born. Anna Judith Hadje screamed and screamed and breathed and breathed and breathed and, with a gasp or sigh or groan or moan, Michelle took a breath and, after a scant few seconds, wailed. The Woman does not remember this, for how many of us remember our first breath, our first wail? She does not remember, but the fact is unassailable. From that point, she *was*. @@ -18,7 +18,7 @@ The Woman's superlative friend followed with her and then soon surpassed her. Ey The Woman and her superlative friend moved together as one. They were the same person twice over, they would say. Michelle who was Sasha — a name chosen for who knows what reason — and RJ who was AwDae — a name that was a corruption of eir name — a name I feel no shame now in sharing. They were the pair who loved each other in their own way and who surrounded themselves with others. They were the pair who found each other and, when the world deemed them in some way unworthy of consideration, got lost together, for they fell among a crowd of politically active friends, as they were active themselves, and how inconvenient! Inconvenient people should be set aside, some bureaucrat thought. They should be put up high on a shelf in some forgotten storage. And so they were. -The Woman and her superlative friend, when next they clicked their implants into place and delved into the familiar second home that was the 'net, they were shunted away into dreams and left there to wilt, to languish, to dessicate and wither and be blown away by who cared what wind. They were both torn asunder in some ineffable way. For Michelle who was Sasha, those two identities were carved apart, though only halfway, and, when her superlative friend, her beloved RJ, gave of emself to create the world that was Lagrange, a System for those minds who chose to upload, she dove in as soon as she could afford. +The Woman and her superlative friend, when next they clicked their implants into place and delved into the familiar second home that was the 'net, they were shunted away into dreams and left there to wilt, to languish, to desiccate and wither and be blown away by who cared what wind. They were both torn asunder in some ineffable way. For Michelle who was Sasha, those two identities were carved apart, though only halfway, and, when her superlative friend, her beloved RJ, gave of emself to create the world that was Lagrange, a System for those minds who chose to upload, she dove in as soon as she could afford. The Woman and her superlative friend were ever bound up in each other, for they were the same person twice over, and since this world was in some ineffable way made *of* em, Michelle who was Sasha and The Woman who was Michelle felt she had no other choice, even if the unique trauma of getting lost meant that she ever felt that split that inextricable Sasha-ness and Michelle-ness that someone, some bureaucrat that wanted her lost, inadvertently tried to extricate, and it was not until the ability to fork was added to the System that she was able to alleviate herself of such. Or, if not herself, at least those new copies of herself, the Ode clade, would be without such pain.