update from sparkleup

writing/post-self/idumea/007.html

@@ -204,7 +204,12 @@
 <p>&ldquo;Where my mind is unsettled, it will be settled. Rather than worrying about my day or about some routine not coming to fruition, I will settle into calm. Instead of thinking myself in circles, I will become a singular point: still and without direction.&rdquo;</p>
 <p>&ldquo;And physically?&rdquo; Her Friend asked, brow still furrowed. &ldquo;Will you no longer shift forms?&rdquo;</p>
 <p>The Woman smiled, giving a slight bow. &ldquo;Yes, No Hesitation. All three of these must work together, yes? If there is turmoil in my thoughts, there will be turmoil in my spirit and I will shift form. If there is turmoil in my spirit, I will think and think and think and shift form. If I become but one form, my mind and my spirit will automatically become that much calmer.&rdquo;</p>
-<p>Her Friend sighed, and in that sigh was a recognition of unknowing, of ignorance. Ey knew, I think — I think because ey has told me — that ey did not truly understand what it was that The Woman was aiming at. And yet, to ask–! How to ask questions such as what ey wished? There are words and words, and words and words and words that all feel so loaded, yes? They are overburdened with meaning and meaning and meaning. They are too hot, my beloved friends, they are much too hot, and so we must pick them up with tongs and wear thick gloves and perhaps dark glasses over our eyes </p>
+<p>Her Friend sighed, and in that sigh was a recognition of unknowing, of ignorance. Ey knew, I think — I think because ey has told me — that ey did not truly understand what it was that The Woman was aiming at. And yet, to ask–! How to ask questions such as what ey wished? There are words and words, and words and words and words that all feel so loaded, yes? They are overburdened with meaning and meaning and meaning. They are too hot, my beloved friends, they are much too hot, and so we must pick them up with tongs and wear thick gloves and perhaps dark glasses over our eyes as the coals glow ruddy– cherry– orange– white– no, blue hot.</p>
+<p>And so there was nothing for it. &ldquo;End Of Endings,&rdquo; she said most delicately. &ldquo;I ask this as your friend, but are you safe?&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Woman, sat in silence for some time, then. They both sat in silence, yes, frozen into a comic panel, those words hanging in the air between them in some invisible speech bubble.</p>
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said at last. &ldquo;Yes, I think I am. There is no death in me. I stand by my words that I do not wish to die, nor do I wish to break apart. I have an idea of what this will look like, and I have an idea of how to approach it, and now all I need is a path from here to there.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>Her Friend bowed. &ldquo;I trust you, my dear. I have no other choice, of course, but I really do trust you. I love you dearly and wish nothing but the best for you.&rdquo;</p>
+<p>The Woman smiled and, yes, it was a blessing.</p>
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                 <p>Page generated on 2024-06-23</p>

writing/post-self/idumea/index.html

@@ -68,7 +68,7 @@ What will become of me?
 </ul>
 </li>
 <li class="done2"> <a href="006.html">006</a> &mdash; The Woman muses on the clade and her past, the ways she was taken advantage of, self-harm, the attack, narrator talking about obsessions and balance / Honest John and Gideon the cat — 3602</li>
-<li class="done1"> <a href="007.html">007</a> &mdash; The Woman begins to earnestly wish for an escape from the cycle, and Her Friend has feelings, narrator talking about urges to quit (both storytelling and suicide) / Comes to life after a wish</li>
+<li class="done2"> <a href="007.html">007</a> &mdash; The Woman begins to earnestly wish for an escape from the cycle, and Her Friend has feelings, narrator talking about urges to quit (both storytelling and suicide) / Comes to life after a wish</li>
 <li class="done1"> <a href="008.html">008</a> &mdash; The Woman talks with Dry Grass with her idea, who mentions Serene, they talk and she turns into a tree on a sidewalk in the city sim, unclear if she quits, the narrator struggles with how they feel about this, modern vs postmodern, earnest vs ironic, subversion vs playing straight, living vs not, devolves into repeated phrases as Rye overflows / Carved from wood</li>
 </ul>
 <h2 id="notes_1">Notes</h2>
@@ -78,7 +78,7 @@ What will become of me?
 </ul>
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-                <p>Page generated on 2024-06-19</p>
+                <p>Page generated on 2024-06-23</p>
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