Irregular Pulse

PULSE on 2 | 1029 | 9684, 0000:858

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CYCLES
I've come back for the fifty-growth anniversary.

...Anniversary sounds wrong. I dwell over my own mistakes with too much romanticization. But it is a sort of significant date, and so I ascribe some special meaning to it. Dates have felt important as of late. My life has been a constant obsessing over dates. I've completely enveloped myself in this work with Kaziona, and the neverending academia, the writing down of dates, the study of recursion and repetition and body-doubles and time, time, time...

I've come back to clear my head. I don't think I'll get such respite.

We now designate my- and, I suppose, his- old home a 'dead sector'. Memoria's wrath had created us, but we were not meant to be there. Our existence was a... hum. Well, we were the shadow on the wall, so to speak, before the real events, which will occur an incredible distance away from us, thousands and thousands of dimes in the future. Our sector was a cascade of reset and remember and quake, until one day it lay dead, empty, destroyed. There are no souls living here anymore-- the very fabric of space tries to force them out.

But I have a spaceship, and some precious time away from my work, which drains my soul like a bag with punctures. I sit, now, in the rotting hearth room below this familiar hill, on this familiar jungle-covered planet, where I was born, where all the people I loved trusted me, and where I failed them.

A home called Mud. The word was more fanciful in our tongue, and translates so pathetically in Common, but that's the name nonetheless. Once a thriving, if rather stationary town. My mother built it from nothing, brought people who created its culture from nothing, and it existed in its incredible state for... sixty growths, before I became leader.

And I destroyed it.

The universe is such a harsh place, but such an intriguing one. And I was entranced by the potential of it all, of things like the interplanetary net and the thousands of roaming souls which had no place to rest. We were in a frontier of space-- something that these nascent factions hadn't yet claimed. And so many people of the universe were desperate to find someplace that could accept them, as they had left their old origins for one reason or another.

So I opened our gates. I made our presence known. The natives were so uncertain, the contingencies were unsteady, our guard force was understaffed... but I opened our gates. I thought I was doing a good thing.

But it was the frontier of space. It was all such a frontier. And there was nobody to save us when we were attacked.

The mud itself burned. In one half-cycle, all of Mud was burned to the ground.

We were a dead sector. We were never meant to make it far. But it is my fault-- it has been since the beginning. And as I drifted in misery, trying to find some way to make things right, desperately trying to fix what had been broken and bring back the people I loved, I found Kaziona. I found Memoria. And now, in my state of misery, we are doing our best to catalogue, research, and utilize the phenomenon to our advantage.

But no amount of sitting at a desk can replace the sheer memory of being back in this place. Rubble, now... nothing but clay rubble. I can see it all standing tall, and then the mirage fades, and the rubble returns again.

Far past my lifespan, Mud will exist again-- Memoria wills it. And this bitterness in me hopes that he fails, too.

But some part of me wishes I could be there to see it alive again, one final time.

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you're long gone old man
yeah this is still way back in the past so

anyway. this is what the sniziit i got when i started looking for "places to travel to" and "scary jungle planet" and i guess it hits the second one? but like there's NO way that theres any jack shit left after like, how fuckin long? 2 and a half eras, and an era is 50,000,000 years.

ok so i dont think we've met this guy at all. BUT he says "thousands and thousands of dimes from now" open up ur notebook remember what a dime is, it's the second number in that date chart thing

so thousands and thousands of dimes from now could be, like. NOW, a.k.a. 4 | 4102 | 4651, and that could be when the Second Version of this ass place exists

so like, yo, haikoo, if you wanna go SPLORIN, maybe there's some jungley planet called 'smud' you could seek out n hang with. and hey maybe theyre not open yet n you could go make sure shit goes good

or the timeline's way off and that happened way in the past or way in the future lmao whos got a clue

lemme know what you wanna see next this is super stimulating