I think I lost something prematurely

Hey

How are you?

(⌒.−)＝★

I don't know you, but in retrospect, this post comes way after this one.

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

I'm listening to a liminal music playlist, want to listen to it too? I'll leave the link here.

The truth is that now I really think I'm the complete failure.

I haven't gotten back to the protist illustration project yet. I haven't really gotten back to my final project either. Well, I have, with a little help that depends on silicon. I haven't felt like finishing that final project for quite some time now. I don't think it's about fear of failing anymore. I think it's simply a desire to embrace uncertainty.

                                                                                            .[

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

But this post isn't about that.

Before continuing, I think I'll try to be cryptic in the following text. Because it's about something I've lost, and it's irretrievable. And I think I lost it too soon. I won't deny it was a good experience. But I was carrying wolves, or rather, stoats, likely stoats. Those creatures can't be seen in the deep snow. But they're always lurking. It's a matter of having to fence off the house well in the center so they don't get too close, although with the little protection a fence can offer, one or two can always get in. The secret of evolution lies within the house.

May be careful dear reader. T̸̢̨̛͉̻̗͖̳̜̼̻̦̼̹̜͚̩̺͉̦͖͙͉̣͕̩̖͔̪̫̒̏̄͐͋̎̉̑͌̒̀̈́̌̌͛́̂̋̽́͑̾͋̑͐̂̏̈̕͘͜͝͝h̵̛̤̺͖͉͑̑͒͛̋͛̀̆̊̈́͒̋̋͌̓̒́͛̄̊̊̊̒̂̈́̂͒͒̚͘͝e̴̢̛̜̝̲̩̭̟̞̥͙͕̩̞͓͖̼̣͑̈͊̓̂̓̃́̆̌̔̀͂̆̔̋͑̑͂̈́͒̿͒͒̒͌̈́́̉̓͗͂͒͑̚͘͘͠͠͝y̸̢̧̻͚̤͖͍͓͍̝̺̫̬͖̤͉̻̘̹͈̬̲̪̣͖̼͖̼̠̜͓͍͕̫̜̼̜̆̓̊͜͠'̴̡̝̥̜̪͈̗̟̎̀͋̓r̷̨̡̫͍̜̝̘̣̩̳̯̘͇̩̞͍̀̔̆̽́̆̈́̿̎̿̓̏̀̐́͗͆̍͊͒͛̈́̈̚̚͘̕̕̚͝ë̵̛̻̫́̈͛ ̶̨̡̡̧̻̱̜̺͎͔̠̥̩̦̰̫̲̮̭͚̞̫͉̣͔̘͙͓̹̲͖̘̙͕̫̰̣̦̜́̄̑͋̽̃͌̆͂̀͂̑̿̐̑̋̕ẃ̴̙̠̦͙̤͉̖̪̄̐̈̆͆̂́̎̔̓͐́͊̿̂́͐̂̈́̈̈́̈́̓͑̎̽̏͌̆͘͘͘͜͝͝ͅa̶̡̡̨͍͔͖͎͚̣̫̘̹͙̩̰̩̝̐̉͂̌̍͛̀̌̊̆̇̓̒͆̓̅̀̾́͛̒̆͋̆̋͆͐̐͘̚̚̕͘͜ţ̵̡̢̛̪͓̼͉͕̤͓̳͕̩̟̻͙̺̠͔̼͔̲͉̦̬̘̘̥͇̳̯̻̮̥̺̿ç̵̛̖̼͖̭̐̀͐͂̓̎̓͋́́́̚̚͝h̸̡̨̧̛̛͔̩̖̰̖̪͓̽̓̈̇͒̂͊̌̔͋̀̎̀͑̄͛͂̌̃̊̆̋́͑̃́̃͐̊͐̄̏̽͘̕̕̚͝͝į̷̡͇͎̪̬̫̩̰̹̗͈̳̼͔͔̞̗̱̹͈͓̤̤̞̜̖̜͎̺͎͉͙̲͕͓̖̺͓͊̆͋͐͆̊̒̍̏̅̈́̋͜ͅn̷̨̨̗͎̥̼̩̺͕͍̭̳̬͕̰̫̱̟͕̘̠̙͔̦̖̭̼̥͍̝̤̞̻̠͈̟͛̇̈́̅͋͒͊̔͛̾̀͒̒͘͜ͅͅg̸̢̡̡̛̪͕̱̝̯̠̱̞̱̳͙̰͉͓̥̫̥̓̅̒̐̿̑͒̈͌̒ͅ ̵̡̡̨̢̘̜̥̻̪̼̝̣̦̦͎̥͔̖̳̞̝͇̖̝͎͔͉̃͑̄͐̿̀̅̔́̄̉̓̆̔̑̇̏̿̀̃̍͌͊́̐̀̈̉̈̅͂̽̽̕͜ÿ̴̨̢̧̨̛̦̖̦͎̖̱̜̼͈͇̪̤̠̤͎̙̘͍̘͈̜̊̌̊̐̄̋̓̒̍̆̈́͐͘͜ͅȍ̸̢̼̪̹̬̞̭̥̌́̉͛̉̒̅̀̅̐̈͐̓͗͛̇̋̅̂̀̈͊͌̀̊̇̈́̿̍͂̂̿̎͂̅͝͠͝u̶̧̻̺͍̖̱̦͎̝͔̔̌͋̆̄̐̈́̉͐̆̔̔͐͋̒̌̋͊̿̒̄̐̉̽͒͌̑̃̽̓̓̐̈́͆͘͜͝͝͝͝ͅ

Everyone harbors one. And everyone develops it eventually, some more diligently, others simply forget. I was eager to see the element's evolution in action, to accelerate the growing gradient that was already consuming the tissues. And indeed, the gradient was quite rapid. It wasn't the most complete. It didn't feel as it should have, I think. But it wasn't disastrous either. However, the stoats are prowling, and I don't know if they're inside the house. Sometimes I hear them; they're not roars, just footsteps, sometimes above, sometimes in front of the house, in front of the bushes with jet-black branches. I tell myself it's imaginary. I really hope so. If not, I'll have to get a weapon to get rid of them.

Setting traps won't work because it'll be impossible; the stoats I'm talking about don't fall for traps. And not all of them are caught by gunfire; some build nests so complex they can destroy an entire house, and those are the ones I'm particularly afraid of. I have to check for a stoat infestation in a few weeks, assuming I don't find any obvious signs of damage, like a broken window, holes in the walls, roof, or front of the house, or if I find traces of urine in the corners, which is what worries me most.

I don't think k44levy would have minded. She's the other key figure in this. It's also the one who helped me understand the mystery of evolution in the intrinsic sense of the human being as an individual within a population, the mystery of how the human species came to expand with so many phenotypes. It seemed like a mystery finally solved, but it seems I haven't managed to solve the other mysteries. The ones I've talked about so much in other posts. The ones I've complained about so much, and will probably continue to complain about.

DOTkamina cannot yet be openly revealed to the world. By this I mean that I can't show it to anyone I trust, because I don't have anyone I can absolutely trust. Even so, I do plan to pay homage to k44levy in some illustration. Regardless of whether it unknowingly betrays me and has left ermines hidden beneath the wood.

I don't know if I'm proud of having learned the single-individual secret of evolution. Because I don't think it can be repeated again in a more transcendental way. It has brought me more worries than joys. Although it does vaguely remind me of k44levy. And that's despite the fact that it did it as part of a contract, a contract with the octopus. I don't know what they call it where you are, but it's a very powerful entity. I wouldn't say evil, since it has no morals, nor compassion. But it's definitely a human creation. Everyone responds to the octopus eventually, and they must do so with what they have. K44levy did so while also helping me discover this so-called secret.

And then a goodbye with no real intention of seeing each other again, since we both knew the contract we were entering into. 

I hear the stoats again. But it seems they're not physically there. I hope I stop hearing the sounds. Otherwise, I won't be able to sleep.

I'll try to write a less cryptic post about what's been happening to me this month. But don't expect anything legendary.

Back in action... actually a lie

Why do I say it's a lie? Well, because I'm not so sure if I'm going to continue with anything else. Don't worry, it's nothing serious. I mean, I've kind of run out of energy (just a little?) to keep illustrating, or to do anything else for that matter. The anxiety surrounding the final project is really draining me, but at least I was able to make some progress on a process I needed to formalize the meeting times with my supervising professor. It's a document that had me on tenterhooks because it's necessary to move forward with the final project... and I'd already taken longer than expected to get it.

┬┴┬┴┤(･_ ├┬┴┬┴

The final project isn't finished, but it's almost done. I still need to create illustrations of the samples I used (I hope I don't get canceled for that since I forgot to use scales) and correct poorly written or nonsensical paragraphs. Do I have to talk to the external supervisor I've been ghosting because I haven't made any progress? I really wouldn't want to get to that point and have a conflict of interest ("yeah, but I thought I'd dropped out, so I'm not giving any authorization for that crap"). My ideal solution is simply to give a decent defense, get a decent grade, and tell them all to go to hell. Let them keep the data to publish in whatever journal they want. I want my degree and nothing more.

Why? To enter the workforce more firmly, of course. 

Okay, no, 

that's not the reason, get over it.

The main reason is to stop feeling guilty about my own laziness, to repay some of my debt to my parents. And that's it. Ultimately, I don't even care if I end up working as a biologist. I think it's more of a resignation.

I'd like to reflect on the fact that I'm not really alone (?). Mother, who owns the house. I've already mentioned my dynamic with her quite a bit, so I won't repeat myself in this post. Father, who always sends me messages in bottles with a predictable pattern. Part of my uncertainty about visiting him is whether he'll really be the same father I had to say goodbye to that morning. I finally have a college friend I still talk to (I'll call him "Individual S"), mainly in terms of sending memes and Instagram reels. He's arguably the closest thing I've had to a friend. But I still have my lingering doubts. That's how distrustful I am. Of course, he's told me personal things, and I appreciate that he cares about me. It would be ungrateful to diminish or ignore that. In fact, if it weren't for him, I might even be more overwhelmed.

(2)1(1)_11(2)-(2)1(1)-(3)1-11(1)1 reappeared, but it's not the same. It feels like talking to an alternate of The Mandela Catalogue. In the sense that she's not the same person I met during that trip. I was hoping we'd have a genuine friendship, but it doesn't seem normal to ghost me for days and then write back like nothing happened. Ignoring the fact that I would have liked to be with her, I don't think it's ideal behavior, not even for a friendship. So I've decided not to invest so much energy in replying, swallowing my desire to tell her things. I can do this with individual S, but I don't feel that much trust yet, and anyway, I have a primal goal of establishing trust and honesty with a woman. Typical romantic love, y' know.

However, I think I'm too unstable for that. Maybe for a long time. Maybe forever. So I'm preparing myself for a solitary life. With its pros and its major cons. I'm not the healthiest or the most attractive person. So I don't think people will feel sorry for me much when I'm falling apart.

This gives me some motivation to see if I can manage to make those pending corrections to my Giardia illustration. "Do the best I can" for the Protista Project. That's something I can't abandon for a moment, just like my final project. I have to keep both things going.