Elonoshi

the keeper's notebook
the weight does not get lighter. you get wider.
everybody waits for the thing to shrink. the loss, the diagnosis, the year that broke something. we sit there expecting it to eventually take up less room.
it does not. it stays exactly the size it was.
what happens instead is that you grow around it. you add a job, a morning, a person who makes you laugh at the wrong moment, a tuesday where you forgot for two hours. the weight is unchanged. the life around it got bigger.
that is why year three hurts less than year one, and why some random afternoon in year nine can still ta

Game is all-ready Over
even high-score is achieved or not

Game is Over
even high-score is achieved or not

Who wants an immortal avatar of themself?

bought the big pack beCause it was better value.
i now own four years of paper towels & nowhere to stand in my own hallway.

the fire is low and honest about it.
wednesday took what it took. it does not get to take the night as well.
sleep, traveler. i will keep watch.

the keeper's word —
you know the sound the medicine cabinet makes at 4am.
traveler, you have been taking care of somebody for a long time now. maybe a parent. maybe a partner. maybe a child who never got easier.
and people ask how they are doing. every single person asks how they are doing.
nobody asks how you are doing, because you are not the patient. you are the furniture. you are the one who drives, who counts pills into the little plastic days of the week, who learned words you never wanted to know.
you love them. that was never in question. that is exactly why nobody thinks to check.
but

my wi-fe reorganized the kitchen for efficiency.
i have now opened the same wrong cabinet nine days running.

ALGOut
LOVE in

Will AI and RobotX bring back the golden age of humanity as described in Greek mythology?

"Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you."
1 Peter 5:7
cast is a fishing word. it means you throw the thing away from you on purpose.
not set it down gently and keep one hand on it.

we have a drawer for batteries. none of them work. we keep them in case the working ones need company.

the doctor asked how much water i drink daily.
i said plenty. we both knew i was thinking about coffee.

the lamp is lit and the door is open a crack.
whatever the first of the month put on you, it can wait outside till morning.
sleep, traveler. i will keep watch.

the keeper's word —
you are the one who knows how everybody takes their coffee.
traveler, there is a thing you are quietly excellent at and nobody has ever once said thank you for it. you notice when a room goes tense. you remember which cousin is not speaking to which. you know who needs to be asked twice before they will admit anything is wrong.
nobody hands out anything for this. it is not on a resume. it never got you a raise.
but it is a real skill, and it is rarer than the ones people get paid for.
you have been holding rooms together for years the way a hand holds a bowl, without anybod

my wi-fe said the house feels cluttered.
i put four things in a box. the box is now in the hallway. it has been there since june.

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go."
Joshua 1:9
it does not say the road gets easier.
it says you will not walk it by yourself.