Time moves quickly when one’s calendar is full. So when I woke up with a bite mark and an itch I scratched it and continued on. As the week went by, a rash grew out from the two evenly placed pierce marks. It turns out that a tick might have somehow bitten me and I might have lyme’s disease! I know this is serious, but it’s kind of whatever. Thankfully I could see a doctor quickly and receive antibiotics. It may have been a spider that bit me but I’m better safe than sorry I suppose.

At the clinic I had the opportunity to speak with a medical resident about how they use technology. Everyone uses AI if they use computers, it just wasn’t obvious until the interface with algorithms accepted natural language inputs. The resident seemed glad to speak to someone who was aware of “how” they work and they presented some perspectives that helped form how I understand discussions around AI.

Lyme’s disease could potential debilitate me. It would certainly scare me if my neurological physiology broke down and caused me internal pain, though the sheer complexity of the relationships in my body that would cause such a change in my sensation makes the world seem so much more lively. Further, I wonder if I have the strength to push beyond that sort of pain to continue to engage with the things that I love or whether I would decay in my own body or something.

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pier closed due to ...

Maybe related, maybe unrelated, the city has closed the pier. I assume repairs are needed and they are preparing for that. They removed the bench as well. I was disappointed (and jumped the fence) and scoffed that they make it hard to enjoy this city, but the bug bite in conjunction with other circumstances seem to be suggesting that I stop going to the pier for the time being. I want to focus on my projects for the next week or two so I am going to leave the house less.

Since the beginning of the summer, a rabbit, then a baby and now an adult (seemingly a runt), has dashed in front of the path as I ride home. At first it startled me though I saw it every day (around 9:30), and it seemed that we had been linked. Was I necessary to the rabbit? Was the rabbit necessary to me? “It must be waiting for me” I thought, but is it true that “I must be going to it” as well? I am sad that I will not see that rabbit again though when I think about this relation and the evident void of meaning I’m not so sad as I am neutral but stimulated.

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manicure

After a year I had my hair cut and dyed, and my nails have acrylics glued on them. I made a decision to grow my bangs out, so I had my hime cut blended and I left my front bangs to grow out. I dyed my hair a solid colour and clarified how I might do blonde extensions later on. My excitement is ahead of me so I need to be careful that it doesn’t mutate and gorge on non-real things (though the future is non-real… whoops). I had a vision for my nails that I failed to properly communicate to my nail technician, and mid-way my nails took on a different colour than what I had thought. I did not want to speak up so I didn’t, and instead trusted her expertise. I really love how they turned out.

The nails on my fingers now look better than the nails in my head and I wonder how often my ideas about the things I don’t really know are really weak and require expertise. Next time, I want to ask the nail technician “what do you like doing the most”, “what’s the most fun for you”, or “what do you want to do”, because that seems more fun for everyone involved. I don’t like services because of the one-sided relationship (money isn’t special, expertise is) so that method of interaction seems much more in-line with my politics.

The future spreads out in front of me and collapses slowly towards the fall. Let’s just hope I don’t have Lyme’s disease I guess.

At the end of the pier there were some dry spots along the low concrete wall, otherwise everything was soaked. The waves were whipped up by the wind and I think understand the word “riptide” because the tides ripped along wave-breaking shapes. Water smashed into the outside of the pier, coating the concrete in a thin but fresh layer of lake water, at once washing off the dirt and replacing it again.

I thought thoughts that belong only at the end of the pier. What matters is: I pulled myself up onto the wall and sat on the dry spot and I figured it might be something to get soaked. Time passed. I remained seated and dry. The wind pulled thin hairs out from my braid and stuck them onto my neck but otherwise I had nothing to say other than what will not leave my sketchbook.

A wave then slams beside me and it is as if a bomb has gone off because my body panics and my brain panics and my mind thinks about how it is pretty neat to have my leg wet. I look to my left to watch the wave continue and I linger on its force.

I begin to see the premonition of a configuration of space and things where the wave hit me and somehow pulled me back into the water. My throat seized up and my body vibrated a non-physical vibration because now I was very nervous. I could imagine so clearly: I would have died if the water pulled me in somehow. The wave’s strength–one of many grinding along the pier–would have shocked me, along with the cold water. That sort of panic, I imagine, debilitates, and so I would begin to drown in short order. I imagine how scared I would be as the water pulls me away and I can do nothing to stop what’s coming. The inevitability is theoretically nice but in practice such a brutal thing that I grow light-headed as I reflect.

My premonitions are always mechanical as they are theoretical; “this could have happened and this is how and why, now imagine the sensation” my body and brain tell me. They are never so organic and practical and so I never know what I would really think, or see. What would I see as I began to drown? I have no clue. I could only imagine, and in my imagination I saw my mother and a variety of vibrant things that would amplify the ordeal. My notebook and the proofing sourdough loaf I will bake tomorrow morning.