Something romantic becomes something sad when done alone.

Magic and horror are both better felt than seen.

Chapter 6 is quickly turning into one of my favorites, as it reminds me of why I enjoy writing. The point of the chapter is short which leaves space to add feeling.
"Heat and pain rupture from hands to splatter blankly onto the effaced view of a tunnel blue."

@pitchgalaxy.bsky.social and I agree that we’re living a surprisingly boring dystopia. Our socio-economic collapse should be giving vibes of Firefly, steampunk, or pirates…but instead we have limp tones of beige and stretched-out sweatpants. Where are my cottage core people? Permaculture friends?

An edit from chapter 1:
The mechanical arm dollies through a jam, the sound of vines or tendons splitting, and over to the cracked observation window to show the mirror.

An excerpt from chapter 5, describing the feeling of remembering that which was meant to be forgotten:
"Echoes of figments were clinged onto, heard by those that could logic past the gate of unmemory."

Children have simple fears because they don't understand normalcy yet. Adults have complex fears because they break those norms.

I had a nightmare for the first time in a long time. A nice reminder of the taste of fear. I was able to stop the nightmare by realizing I was dreaming and chanting that realization, a command that the dreams seem to despise, like antibodies to an infection. Why do they not want me to know?

When you find an answer to a question you've had for a long time, and then come back asking the same question; do you think you didn't find the real answer or are you just insatiable?

Don’t make me say it again.

Is there anything more terrifying than the monster you know is just out of view? You don't know what it is so your mind tells you it's the worst thing possible. When I try to imagine what that thing looks like, it always falls short of the feeling. What is in the unknown for you?