update from sparkleup

writing/post-self/motes/001.html

@@ -88,7 +88,7 @@
 <p>She did not blame A Finger Pointing, never once. She, of all those in her life, was trustworthy. Motes had once been her, after all, yes? They had had their spats, more than a few, as would be the case between any parent and child — as would be the case between any two individuals: she had had spats with more than just ma. She and Beholden had fought, and at times bitterly, and it was at those times that Bee&rsquo;s protectiveness had felt most precarious. It had never disappeared, but it had verged well into the realm of sister, the realm of Slow Hours, or bestest friend, the realm of Time Rushes, and away from guardian, away from that parental love.</p>
 <p>She did not remember what the spats were about. She could, yes, her memory was as perfect as anyone else&rsquo;s on the three Systems. But she would not, because that was not the point. The point was that she was Motes. She was their Dot, their Dóttir. She was the kid, and they were the grown-ups who loved her.</p>
 <p>And so their protectiveness made sense, yes? They wanted to keep her safe, yes? They could not help but keep <em>themselves</em> safe, yes?</p>
-<p>And that is where the friction came from. It came from others in the stanza fussing about Motes-as-kid.</p>
+<p>And that is where the friction came from. It came from others in the clade fussing about Motes-as-kid.</p>
 <p>She was not always. Often, she was in her early twenties. Certainly a far cry from the 41 she had been when she had been forked, or the 32 she had been when Michelle Hadje had first uploaded, but still, far more acceptable in the eyes of the System, far more acceptable in the eyes of the rest of the Ode clade.</p>
 <p>It was them, through A Finger Pointing and, on a few occasions, Slow Hours and Time Rushes, who suggested that she should not do this thing. It was too close to unwelcome paraphilias, here on the System where one had to be at least eighteen to upload. It was too close to coming off as someone seeking unwanted attention, affection, sexuality. &ldquo;I understand that you wish to reclaim childhood,&rdquo; they said through her ma or siblings. &ldquo;But you must understand the optics.&rdquo; Never mind that she had long since set aside sexuality, that she harbored her own fears of those offering unwanted attention, affection, sex. The optics were what needed minding.</p>
 <p>And so she kept it under wraps for years and decades.</p>
@@ -162,7 +162,7 @@
 <p>The Odist laughed and leaned over to hug her cocladist, careful of her nails. &ldquo;I will not, do not worry, my dear. You are stuck with me for a good while yet.&rdquo;</p>
             </article>
             <footer>
-                <p>Page generated on 2023-12-31</p>
+                <p>Page generated on 2024-01-04</p>
             </footer>
         </main>
         <script type="text/javascript">