Location
Shroprshire
If I had a genius, and it's questionable, it definitely didn't show up in neat code blocks or any gallery-worthy sense of beauty, nor did it sit in the realm of human psychology, art, or outmaneuvering digital phantoms. No, my one redeeming spark…
Inspiration didn’t always arrive on cue. I could meditate, run, even sample every stimulant known—and sometimes the well stayed dry. I’d sit before a blank screen, willing code into being, and nothing would come. Then on other days it poured out of…
The speculative fiction writer’s mind is a network of hidden antennae, always tuned to the white noise of the world. News feeds, overheard conversations, the scrawl of graffiti on the subway wall, all filtered and recombined in the brain’s shadowy…
What does it mean to have an ability? Not a cheap party trick, not some shallow novelty. A sensitivity. A way of tuning into a bandwidth most people ignore. Is “psychic” just a rebranded behavioral profiler? Intuition, clairsentience, cold…
It would be a lie to say the world didn't see it coming. A complete fallacy. The warnings blared for decades, each generation stacking another layer of panic and prophecy onto the last. The 2020s, the 2010s, the 1990s and 1980s—decade after decade,…
They asked softly, brushing a lock of hair behind their ear. “What does freedom even mean? Is it the power to choose? To wander unbound? To live without fear or danger? Or is it just a mirage? Even before the collapse, freedom was conditional—a…
We hover on the edge of something—call it a paradigm shift if you want, but it’s bigger than the phrase suggests. It’s a tension you can feel in your skin, a tremor in every scroll, every headline, every overheard conversation in a crowded café or a…
He’d never been a stage magician, never wore a velvet blazer or tried to hustle tourists on a crowded boardwalk. The mentalist’s gifts ran deeper, refusing to sit in the shallow pool of parlor tricks or peddled hypnosis. Sure, he could read…
I needed space to think. Even with most people burrowed away in Ultrahigh, the world was still a cage. I went for a walk in nature, though where and when I lived, nothing about that was simple. Past my house, past my car, through the city’s…
Maybe you thought Hermeticism was all dusty books, incense, and solitary meditations—the slow grind of mental discipline, centuries-old formulas, words scratched into leather-bound codices by candlelight. A two-speed existence: either you sat…
The office is dark except for the glow of the monitor and the blue haze of dawn pressing against the blinds. You sit at the desk, hands tented, watching your own breath fog the cold air—each inhale and exhale a metronome for the mind. The world…
You could see it in the way people clung to their groups, their tribe, like that was all that kept them from falling apart or fading away. The far right really got this, even if they’d never say that out loud. It was like they dangled these…
I lit another joint, sinking into the couch as conflicting thoughts spun in my head. I took a long, measured drag, then passed it to Satan, my hand trembling slightly, before snatching the bottle of wine and pouring two glasses with a flourish that…
When we talk about cyberpunk today, it’s hard not to feel like the genre is a fossil—its bones set in the 1980s, all neon-lit rain and chrome, body mods and jaded hackers, megacities drowning in smog and corporate logos. The tropes are so familiar…
Comments
He wasn't just code, was he?Â
taken up, deletedÂ
replaced with machinesÂ
they all saw it coming
and didn't even look the other way
just another dayÂ