mag·ic
/ˈmajik/
noun
1: the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.

2: any obfuscation that conceals reality

10 REM **** BACKUP LOG // 24H ****

20 PRINT "Life can be a boot"
30 PRINT "Or take the 'proverbial'"
40 IF arms.GRABBED = TRUE THEN HOLDTIGHT ELSE GOTO 90
50 PRINT "Worry later"
60 PRINT "Love.willAlwaysFind = TRUE"

70 DIM thirst AS STRING
80 thirst = "petty"
90 CALL wrap(thirst, "mnemonic")

100 REM --- Searching: Dev = trashHeap.Scan(rhyme) ---
110 PRINT "Fraternities. Sororities. Mirror shards."

120 INPUT willow$
130 IF willow$ = "What say you" THEN warSpeed = "slowLikeMoss"

140 PRINT "Comment.leftHanging = 'Add me'"
150 PRINT "IF soul.Timetable EXISTS THEN ERROR 404"

160 REM === Click. Scroll. ===
170 USERNAME = "Everyone"
180 IF USERNAME = "No one" THEN PRINT "Just me"
190 PRINT "Just badwords"

200 GOSUB gomezbleed()
210 GOSUB carloweave()

220 FUNCTION gomezbleed()
230     PRINT "3D.truths = leaking"
240 END FUNCTION

250 FUNCTION carloweave()
260     PRINT "Webs.Draw(6D)"
270 END FUNCTION

280 trapped$ = "haiku.GIF"
290 IF trapped$ = "Maybe" THEN PRINT "This is ART"
300 IF trapped$ = "Maybe" THEN PRINT "This is CONTENT"

310 PRINT "Birds.chirp > thirst"
320 PRINT "SelfTonics.Drip -> gutter"

330 soul.RUN()
340 soul.REQUIRED = TRUE
350 soul.DESERVING = "N/A"

360 REM === Line Breaks Like A Promise ===
370 PRINT "'Love me,' she said"
380 PRINT "'but do it while you’re still on WiFi.'"
390 STRUCTURE = "SIGNIFICANT.SIMPLE"

400 harm.GRAB
410 inch.HOLD
420 IF meter.WORRY = TRUE THEN PRINT "Comment left, comment read"

430 HOPE.READ = TRUE
440 HOPE.SEE = FALSE
450 HOPE.MATTERS = TRUE
460 HOPE.DISSOLVES = TRUE

470 REM ======= SYSTEM REFLECTION BEGIN =======

480 PRINT ":: Dying bandwidth detected"
490 PRINT ":: NodeStatus = REMEMBERING"

500 IF system.ONLINE = FALSE THEN
510     PRINT ":: Running emergency backup power"
520     companions = ARRAY("echoes", "bitrot", "ghosts")
530 END IF

540 REM ======= FINAL LOG ENTRY =======
550 PRINT ":: FINAL LOG: // ERROR // SYNTAX"

560 server.STATUS = "Not shut down"
570 server.SPEAK = FALSE
580 hum.SLOWING = TRUE

590 PRINT ":: Silence exceeded acceptable thresholds"

600 poem.ARCHIVE = FRAGMENTS("failing syntax", "corrupted tags")
610 overflow.VOICES = 1000
620 gasp.REDUCTION = TRUE

630 PRINT "Love attempted"
640 PRINT "War echoed"
650 PRINT "Hands reached"
660 PRINT "Thirst persisted"
670 PRINT "Comments made"

680 IF meaning.EXISTS THEN GOTO 700 ELSE GOTO 710

700 PRINT ":: Code parsed it all the same"
710 PRINT ":: Meaning Unavailable [ERRORCODE: NULLPTR-VAL]"

720 static.LINE = "Grab the harm. Hold the inch."
730 IF static.LINE = RECEIVED THEN GOTO 740 ELSE PRINT ":: That was the peace"

740 dream.GLITCHED = TRUE
750 god.SCREENGLOW = TRUE
760 IF dreaming = TRUE THEN dream.SLEEPMODE

770 salvation = FALSE
780 damnation = FALSE
790 state = "UPTIME > DOWNTIME > FINAL TIME"

800 IF meat = "dust" AND users = "myths" THEN
810     tags.LOST = TRUE
820     feed.OUTPUT = NULL
830 END IF

840 server.BLINK()
850 server.BLINK = FALSE

860 PRINT ":: END SIGNAL ::"

We are slaves
to the techno-autocracy.
A faith of subscribing,
of retweeting,
of liking things
we never loved.

We chant into the feed
and call it presence.
We echo to the void
and call it voice.

The liturgy is noise.
The sacrament is scroll.
We kneel before timelines
like altar rails
and take communion in pixels.

We have traded prophets for influencers.
Revelation for reposts.
Scripture for screen time.

The holy ghost got a firmware update,
but still can’t answer support tickets.

We stare at our gods,
glowing in our palms,
and ask to be known—
but only if it fits in the caption.

There is no silence.
Only the dull roar of monetized despair.
The din that keeps us deaf.
The bombast of uninformed certainty.
The drivel that drips down our chin
while we think we’re being fed.

We are full of nothing,
and still we chew.

I fed grief for years—
now joy knocks, and I answer.
My ghost waits outside.

I betrayed my sadness
the moment I let her
touch my face
without flinching.

I fed it for years—
grief, my quiet tenant.
We slept in shifts.
I mopped its floor.
It whispered bedtime stories
in a voice that sounded like mine
but colder.

Sadness was loyal.
It never left.
It kept me honest,
hungry,
hollow.
It taught me to build poems
from absence,
to see beauty
in staying behind.

And now—
I’ve let the door swing open.

Let her walk in
with warm hands
and eyes that do not apologize
for seeing me.

And I laughed.
Once.
Loudly.
And for a second
it didn’t feel like treason.
It felt like
oxygen.

But now my sadness
sits in the corner,
quiet,
watching me
like a dog I fed for years
that doesn’t understand
why I’m not
starving anymore.

I didn’t mean to betray it.
Only—
to rest.
To live.
To be something
besides
the ache.

But I miss it.
A little.
How it curled around me
like smoke,
like a certainty
that asked nothing
but silence.

Still, I let her in.
Still, I let go.
Still, I know—
some ghosts only leave
when you stop
feeding them.

She loves me.
She wants me to run.
Not away—
but through.

Through brush and bramble,
collecting spurs in my coat
like medals no one pinned.

She wants my tangles.
My matted fur.
The parts of me
I tried to groom into quiet.

She says,
“Bring it all.
Let it snarl.
Let it reek of survival.”

She doesn’t flinch
when I bare my teeth
without anger.

She knows the difference
between danger
and damage.

She doesn’t reach
to smooth me.
She walks beside me
and watches me shed.

And I think—
maybe this is what love is:
not a leash,
not a cage,
not a cure—

but a clearing
where I can pant,
live,
bleed,
and be seen.

i am not strong
i am not wise
i am not
whatever they think i am

she said she saw me
and i believed her
and now i don’t know
where to put that belief

it doesn’t fit in my chest
it spills
it burns
it ruins the neatness i made of my pain

i thought if i kept everything
inside the lines
i would be safe
but love
doesn’t care about borders

i want to say thank you
but my mouth fills with apology
i want to say stay
but my hands are still shaking
like i’m holding something
i didn’t earn

i thought being soft
was a secret
but she held it in the light
and didn’t flinch

and now
i am undone
not ruined—
just
undone