A group of Emo kids grew up to become doctors who eventually started to experience a mid-life crisis. Together, they started a band called My Cardiological Romance.

As expected, they sang from and about the heart.

Being disorganized saves you time when it may not matter, but loses you time when it matters most.

I swear I’m not trans-phobic, but I keep bumping flat into parents that are transgender. Almost knock them right over. It’s like they’re trans-parent or something.

What are the odds you’ll find a one in one-hundred?
100%

How do you know when two and three don’t follow Fibonacci? When two and three is “four” five.

Why is three jealous of two?
Because two “one” over zero.

We are on the verge of physical technology creating an upheaval of never before seen equality or inequality depending on how things end up being utilized. Yet, with trust, we are not much far off from the caveman.

Seeing Red

Imagine being born into a world where you, and only you can see the color red. As a child, you are seen as having a vivid imagination. As you progress into adolescence, it starts to become a part of your identity – for better or worse. Maybe it’s something that makes you feel cool and different. Your friends think you’re special or ‘edgy.’ Or, maybe you are ashamed of it. Something is wrong with you. You try getting help from a doctor or clergy.

“It’s just a purple-ish gray color,” people say. You know what you are seeing is different from everyone else, but it seems like such a trivial part of life that you just press on trying to ignore it. With each minor argument about color, you begin to train yourself to simply stop talking about it. You avoid employment in creative or scientific fields that may put too much emphasis on the subject of color.

Moving through life, it continues to itch at you. You start becoming cynical and bitter. Why can’t people just believe you? Eventually, maybe you go through a rigorous process of measuring light. You find your own way to prove that red exists; however, you do not have a degree. You do not have connections in the scientific community. You do not have anything other than your word and your work. The work should be enough.

Still, no one believes you. Maybe you can’t show your work to the people with the expertise to know you’re right. Maybe they feel threatened by the fact that a lamen discovered a new color even though they made it their life’s work. Maybe you lack the social skills and they simply don’t like you, so they say you’re wrong.

Submitting to Powerlessness

Eventually, you give up. Maybe you make a few inventions that leverage your ability to see red when others cannot. Maybe you move on with life, forgetting this part of you. Maybe you become socially withdrawn and generally hostile toward authority and institutions.

…Or Not

Maybe you keep pressing on with your Red cause. Maybe you’re lucky enough that there were people before you that also saw red. Maybe they also went through the same struggles as you. Maybe their collective effort brought the concept of Red into the Overton window. Maybe you’ll be hailed as the genius who proved what many before you could not.

If you look at many innovations in our world that is adopted by the masses, a story like this can be found and repeated over and over. Giordano Bruno was burned at the stake for his claims of the now widely accepted infinite universe and supporting Copernicus’s heliocentric model. We now know the Copernican model to be wrong, but not completely wrong. Just as the universe may not truly be infinite.

Just as you know Red exists, you may not be able to communicate that there is many different types of red. Perhaps you identified an orange-y red of some kid as the ultimate red. You weren’t completely right, but you did the best with the tools and words you have available to you in your time.

Trust and Blockchain

Bitcoin/blockchain and the solving of the Two General’s Problem will likely eventually be seen as slightly incorrect as a system of trust. Even so, it is the first most profound solution for our society’s trust problems. I had a friend who lived in the midst of some of the most important innovations at a breakneck pace. Mass adoption of electricity, nuclear fusion, the internet, the list goes on. He remarked to me how AI is one of the few innovations of late to be truly world-changing. He did not include blockchain in this list of recent innovation.

I don’t blame him. Blockchain is boring. It’s rife with scams. Ironically, the system has been built as a system of trust yet overrun with untrustworthy people. Our sun may be the center of the solar system, but it is not the center of our universe. Blockchain appears to me as the equivalent of the invention of steel. Steel can make a great sword. Eventually, steel can be used for so many technologies. Used for architecture, machinery, tools, and so much more.

Is blockchain the center of trust? I doubt it. The Copernican model isn’t correct, but it was a start. Blockchain may not be correct, but it’s a start.

Innovating Trust Is Our Greatest Imperative for the Future

It seems likely that within our century, artificial intelligence may reach a singularity event. I wonder what that may look like if humans still cannot trust each other? What will we do when we yet again shut down someone who is seeing red? What if that red is the future blood spilled from the misuse of AI or other civilization-ending technologies? Many cynical fictions say we are cavemen with nukes. This is because we still do not know how to trust or be truthful.

It’s Not All Doom and Gloom, Though!

The wonderful thing is we can all as individuals be a part of the solution. In the climate crisis, you as an individual can save the world by reducing your waste and emissions. In our trust crisis, you can start being more truthful. Start by facing truths within yourself. We all lie. If you think you do not, you are likely right, but only half-right. If you are truthful to others, that might be correct, but chances are quite high you are still lying to yourself.

When you identify that you are capable of lying to yourself, you will begin to see that you have been lying to others all along. Whether you are a liar or not, start calling out the lies you tell yourself. This will make you surprisingly honest. Life gets easier. Harder in some ways as well, but there is a net gain. I know this because I have done it myself.

We will defend it to the death because ego is all we have left after it strips us. Strips us of our family, money, and basic sense of dignity. Anyone who is not a white man already knows this about their relationship with white supremacist patriarchy. The only difference is they are not entitled to have an ego like us.

Lately, I’ve been contemplating the idea of what I’ve started to call ‘dogmatic literalism.’ As I explore my personal relationship with god, people who are dogmatic in their religious practice unconsciously dismiss me. With dogma and religion, it’s their way or the highway. It is unfathomable to be a servant of god without religion. Not unless I am a servant of god of their religion. Some are not as picky, as long as I am a servant of god of any religion.

Dogmatic Literalism

This idea of dogmatic literalism is simply a generalization of biblical literalism. An example of Biblical literalism is Adam and Eve being real people, the only humans that exist, that Adam actually sacrificed his rib to make Eve, that Eve was seduced by a real talking snake into eating an apple. It’s an interpretation of scripture that fails to apply an interpretation that very clearly requires an understanding and application of metaphor.

Let’s take the most god-lite religion we know about. Twelve step programs. My suggestion of dogmatic literalism is that Al-Anon, a 12-step program – a religion, requires one to go to Al-Anon meetings and to read the Al-Anon book to have any hope of living harmoniously with someone that is in a relationship with an alcoholic, drug abuser, etc. Yet, it is just a religion. Another iteration of teaching someone the core nature of reality. The core nature of reality is like a song. Religions and their teachings are simply remixes of that song. Anyone can hear the original. All they need to do is listen.

When a religious person suggests that my relationship with god is invalid because I didn’t use religion to find it (god), it is not helpful. They think they are being helpful. But, all it does is expose themselves as dogmatic. Dogma prevents one from seeing a road parallel to their’s. I let go of that, but it makes me sad because being dogmatic can have negative health and social consequences. I empathize with the fact that they potentially hinder and harm themselves through dogmatism.

There are many studies about the negative health and social consequences of dogmatism. Here are a couple:

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/28435818/
https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/33214149/

White Supremacist Patriarchy

Dogmatism is one of many forms of indoctrination. Dogmatism is quite powerful because it internalizes indoctrination much deeper than traditional forms of indoctrination. Indoctrination is, of course, a social and cultural toolset to make a person behave a certain way through all sorts of social manipulation. The white supremacist patriarchy is an excellent example of it because it still exists today and has been pervasive for centuries.

In the end, it is all lies. Delusion. A delusion is mostly just a lie that you believe. A fabrication of reality that you have made real for yourself. This can happen as a natural protection mechanism of your brain. In schizophrenic people, that protective mechanism goes haywire.

I have spent almost my entire life sorting through delusion. I did it because it’s a symptom of schizophrenia. But somewhere along the line, I accidentally started dismantling societal delusions inside of myself because I confused them for being psychotic delusions. After over two years of doing this, I’m starting to feel like I’ve become a literal example of Akira Kurosawa’s line from Ran:

• 狂った今の世で気が狂うなら気は確かだ
• English: in a mad world, only the mad are sane

I don’t have any conclusion to this writing. Just sharing my observations in this moment. Thanks for reading.

The core nature of reality is like a song. Religions and their teachings are simply remixes of that song. Anyone can hear the original. All they need to do is listen.

Most desires are fulfilled by paradoxical pursuit. Such as slowing down instead of speeding toward them.

Some of the best comforts are those that take bravery to pursue.

Waiting for rains
From dark grey shrouds

To feed the vines
For boozy good times

And feed the ditch
‘Cause droughts are a real damn bitch

O, the venerable old white women
They like pleasant things
Sold with old white man’s acumen
A painting, a potting, a poem to sing

They fill up the galleries and boards,
the gardens, the place of their choice
They fill all the platforms in hoards
To give the voiceless a voice

With old white man money, shrewdness, power
We herald in now, the old white woman’s hour
To defend the down-trodden and sour
The beaten, battered, those without dower

I, too, am a white woman
For I’m not the villain
How could that be?
I defend against such villainy!

So step aside, savage
Coloured, queer, crazy, the rest
You should know now that I know the best

No one wants to be
The big bad guy
Or to shed resplendency
From things that we buy

So instead of admit
We do evil shit
Ourselves, we’ll acquit
Say I’m complicit?
HAH! Nuh-uh, we’ll buy it

Because when I put my manicured feet
On the chaos of the street
I cannot compete
With reality of defeat

Helped the worst off
But I exhale in a huff
They shoot themselves in the foot
‘They deserve where they’re put’

That’s what I have to say
Because to my dismay
Lingering under my mental fray
My comforts made them this way

Those thoughts I can’t reconcile
To the idea I could I be so vile
So I ignore the trial of my amorality
And make pleasant things for inside a gallery

This short story is a 10 to 20-minute read, and 20 to 30 minutes in spoken word if you are reading it out loud to yourself or someone else.

The Story

In the heart of a mystical forest, twilight cast its ethereal glow upon ancient trees adorned with twinkling fairy lights. Playful, glowing faeries danced around a crystal-clear pond as their wings shimmered in the fading light. A cozy, ivy-covered stone cottage peered from between the trees, holding secrets and wonder within its walls. Hidden among the magical landscape, a diligent mushroom nymph named Mylo worked tirelessly, tending to the forest’s vast network of mycelium.

Mylo’s daily routine was challenging, but essential. He massaged the mycelium, ensuring that the delicate fungal filaments remained strong and healthy. This intricate task required a gentle touch, patience, and an unwavering dedication to the forest’s wellbeing. As a mushroom nymph, Mylo was uniquely qualified for this critical job, as he could communicate with the mycelium and understand its needs.

Day after day, Mylo devoted himself to his work, taking pride in his role as the forest’s caretaker. The ancient trees and the vibrant, lush flora that filled the forest relied on the mycelium’s vast underground network to share nutrients, water, and essential information. Without Mylo’s tender care, the entire ecosystem could falter, and the enchanted forest would lose its magical essence.

But beneath Mylo’s steadfast commitment to his work lay a quiet sadness. While the forest and its inhabitants flourished under his care, Mylo couldn’t help but feel lonely. As the day turned to evening, he would look up from his work and watch the faeries dance, longing for companionship and understanding.

Mylo often wondered if he would ever find someone who could share in his love for the forest and appreciate the vital work he did. He yearned for someone who would understand the unique challenges of his life and the sacrifices he made to ensure the forest’s survival. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the fairy lights twinkled amidst the trees, Mylo couldn’t shake the loneliness that gnawed at his heart.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting day, Mylo decided to treat himself to a ground spruce burrito from his favorite stone taco wagon. The burrito vendor, nestled between ancient trees, was known for its delicious fare, including tacos, churros, and Mylo’s beloved burritos. As the friendly vendor handed over the scrumptious meal, Mylo’s eyes lit up, and he could hardly contain his excitement.

As he left the taco wagon, the aroma of the ground spruce burrito wafted through the air, momentarily lifting Mylo’s spirits. He couldn’t wait to savor the flavors that reminded him of the very essence of the forest he cherished. The anticipation of the first bite filled him with an unparalleled sense of joy and satisfaction. He knew that, even for a moment, the warm, hearty burrito would fill the void in his heart.

As Mylo wandered deeper into the enchanted forest, he approached a stream that he needed to cross. The air was filled with the calming sound of flowing water, and the stream sparkled in the fading twilight. Mylo, still clutching his prized ground spruce burrito, stepped onto the moss-covered stones that would guide him across the water. He felt a sense of accomplishment knowing that he had managed to acquire his favorite meal, and the anticipation of enjoying it brought a smile to his face.

However, as Mylo navigated the slippery stones, his excitement got the better of him. His foot slipped on the mossy surface, causing him to lose his balance. In that heart-stopping moment, the ground spruce burrito slipped from his grasp. Mylo desperately tried to catch the burrito before it met its watery fate, but his efforts were in vain. The burrito tumbled through the air, landing with a soft plop in the bubbling stream.

As the burrito floated downstream, Mylo’s eyes widened in disbelief, his heart aching with a sudden sense of loss. He frantically chased after the burrito, splashing through the stream in a comically tragic pursuit. The forest creatures stopped their playful activities to watch the mushroom nymph’s frantic efforts. Some of the faeries even giggled, finding amusement in the dramatic chase.

The ground spruce burrito, however, proved to be an elusive quarry. The stream’s gentle current carried it further away, just beyond Mylo’s reach. As the distance between him and his prized meal grew, the hope in Mylo’s heart began to fade. He realized that the burrito was slipping away from him, just like so many other things in his life.

Eventually, Mylo came to a halt, panting from his efforts. He stood there, soaked and defeated, as the ground spruce burrito disappeared from view. A feeling of deep sadness enveloped him, knowing that his delightful meal was now lost to the whims of the stream. And as the burrito floated further away, so too did the momentary happiness it had brought him.

Mylo’s heart ached with a mixture of sadness and fear as he stood by the stream, watching his ground spruce burrito drift further away. The emotions swirling within him were only intensified by the knowledge that he had a date with a beautiful amanita muscaria mushroom nymph later that evening. He had been looking forward to the date for weeks, hoping that perhaps he could finally find the companionship he longed for.

But now, with his stomach rumbling and his spirits low, Mylo couldn’t help but worry that he wouldn’t be his best self on the date. He knew that when he was hungry, he often became irritable and unfocused, and the last thing he wanted was to make a poor impression on the amanita nymph. The thought of losing this chance at love only intensified his feelings of loneliness, which had been growing steadily for years.

Mylo’s loneliness stemmed from the fact that he had always felt different from the other creatures of the mystical forest. While he had a few friends among the faeries and other magical beings, he knew that none of them could truly understand the burden of his work or the unique challenges he faced as a mushroom nymph. They could frolic and play all day, while he toiled away, caring for the mycelium and ensuring the forest’s well-being.

This loneliness was also rooted in Mylo’s belief that he would never find another nymph who shared his passion for the forest and its mycelium. He had heard tales of other mushroom nymphs who lived far away, but he had never encountered one in his own forest. As the years passed, Mylo couldn’t help but feel that his chances of finding true love were growing increasingly slim.

The loss of his ground spruce burrito seemed to symbolize all the disappointments and unfulfilled dreams that weighed on Mylo’s heart. He knew he needed to find a way to retrieve the burrito, not just to satiate his hunger, but to prove to himself that he could still find happiness despite his loneliness. With a deep breath, Mylo steeled his resolve and set out on his quest, determined to reclaim the burrito and perhaps, in the process, find the connection he so desperately craved.

With a heavy heart, Mylo continued his quest to retrieve his lost ground spruce burrito. As he wandered through the mystical forest, he stumbled upon a grizzled old potato nymph named Pato, who sat beneath a towering oak tree, humming a solemn tune. Pato’s appearance was striking – his skin was rough and textured, much like the bark of the ancient trees surrounding them, and his eyes gleamed with wisdom and experience.

Mylo hesitantly approached the old nymph and shared his tale of the lost burrito, hoping that Pato might have some advice on how to retrieve it. To his surprise, Pato’s face lit up as he listened to the story, and he revealed that he too had once lost a ground spruce burrito many years ago. Pato had since become a master at finding scrumptious lost foods, as he believed that no creature should be deprived of the joy that comes from savoring a delectable meal.

At first, Pato was reluctant to help Mylo, as he had grown accustomed to his solitary existence in the forest. However, as he observed the mushroom nymph’s determination and sadness, he found himself empathizing with Mylo’s loneliness. With a sigh, Pato agreed to help Mylo find his lost burrito, hoping that perhaps, in doing so, he could also help Mylo find the companionship he so desperately craved.

As they ventured deeper into the forest, Pato regaled Mylo with tales of his past adventures in tracking down lost foods, from enchanted acorns to bewitched berries. The duo formed an unlikely bond, with Pato teaching Mylo the skills necessary to recover his beloved burrito. Mylo listened intently to the old potato nymph’s wisdom, grateful for both the guidance and the newfound friendship.

Together, Mylo and Pato searched the mystical forest, following the stream’s winding path and using their combined knowledge to track the ground spruce burrito. Along the way, they encountered various magical creatures who offered advice and assistance, further strengthening Mylo’s connection to the enchanted forest and its inhabitants. And while Mylo’s heart still ached with loneliness, he began to feel a glimmer of hope that he might soon retrieve his burrito and, with it, the happiness and companionship he longed for.

Pato, sensing Mylo’s vulnerability, began to share his own experience with loneliness. He told Mylo that there was a time when he too felt isolated and disconnected from the world around him. The old potato nymph explained that he had eventually discovered that the key to overcoming his fear of loneliness was to recognize that it was an illusion, a fabrication of the mind that could be conquered by embracing self-love and opening oneself up to the connections that were waiting to be formed.

Pato advised Mylo to focus on the positive aspects of his life and to practice gratitude for the unique gifts he possessed. By acknowledging his own self-worth, Mylo would be better equipped to attract companions who valued him for who he truly was. Pato also explained that connections were formed not only through the sharing of joy but also through vulnerability and the courage to reveal one’s true self to others.

The wise old nymph suggested that Mylo should open his heart to the possibility of love and friendship, allowing himself to be receptive to the energies of those around him. Pato emphasized the importance of being present in the moment and engaging in meaningful interactions with others, as these were the building blocks of deep, lasting connections.

He went on to tell Mylo that, in the enchanted forest, he was never truly alone. The forest was filled with magical creatures, each with their own stories and struggles, and it was through the sharing of these experiences that they all became connected. Pato encouraged Mylo to reach out to others and to be willing to listen, learn, and grow through the shared wisdom of the forest’s inhabitants.

By sharing his own journey and offering this advice, Pato hoped to help Mylo understand that loneliness could be transformed into something beautiful and empowering. He wanted Mylo to see that the fear of loneliness, while valid, could be conquered by embracing self-love, gratitude, and the power of connection. It was in this spirit of transformation and growth that Pato believed Mylo would find the strength to face his fears and ultimately retrieve his lost ground spruce burrito.

Upon hearing Pato’s advice, Mylo took a moment to reflect on his fear of loneliness. He realized that this fear had been a constant companion throughout his life, manifesting itself in various ways. It was his loneliness that drove him to work so tirelessly on the mycelium, hoping that his dedication to the forest would somehow fill the void in his heart. And it was his loneliness that had caused him to become so attached to the ground spruce burrito, as it represented a small, fleeting moment of happiness in his otherwise isolated existence.

As Mylo contemplated his fear of loneliness, he began to see how it had played a role in the loss of his burrito. His longing for companionship and understanding had left him feeling vulnerable and distracted, which had ultimately led to his clumsy misstep on the moss-covered stones. He now understood that, in order to retrieve his burrito, he would need to confront his fear head-on and acknowledge the impact it had on his life.

Pato, recognizing the struggle within Mylo, offered his support and encouragement. He reminded Mylo that the enchanted forest was full of creatures who cared for him and that he was never truly alone. Pato also pointed out that, in their short time together, Mylo had already formed a bond with the grizzled old potato nymph, proving that he was capable of making meaningful connections.

Taking Pato’s words to heart, Mylo decided to face his fear of loneliness. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and imagined a world where he was surrounded by friends and loved ones, including the amanita muscaria mushroom nymph he had been eagerly anticipating meeting. In this vision, he saw himself happy and fulfilled, sharing the joys and challenges of his life with those who understood and appreciated him.

With newfound determination, Mylo opened his eyes and turned to Pato. He thanked the old nymph for his guidance and promised to carry the lessons he had learned with him on his quest for the ground spruce burrito. By acknowledging and confronting his fear of loneliness, Mylo felt a weight lift from his shoulders, and he sensed that he was now one step closer to retrieving his cherished burrito and finding the companionship he so desperately sought.

Mylo the mushroom nymph, guided by the wise old potato nymph, reached the fabled Pond of Reflection. The twinkling fairy lights illuminated the ancient trees around them, casting eerie shadows on the water’s surface. The potato nymph had shared the secret that Mylo’s fear of loneliness was the key to retrieving his lost spruce burrito, but Mylo couldn’t quite grasp how this was possible. The pond, while beautiful and mesmerizing, showed no signs of his precious burrito.

As they stood by the pond, the potato nymph began to explain the true nature of the challenge. “Mylo, the Pond of Reflection is a mystical body of water that reveals a person’s deepest fears, forcing them to confront and overcome them. In your case, your fear of loneliness is directly linked to the loss of your burrito, the very thing that brought us here. You must face your fear to save your burrito, and in doing so, you will realize that you are never truly alone.”

Mylo hesitated, feeling a tight knot of anxiety forming in his chest. He knew this was the moment of truth, the moment that would define his future. With a deep breath, he gathered his courage and stepped to the water’s edge. As he gazed into the Pond of Reflection, the water transformed into a mirror-like surface, showing Mylo an image of himself, completely alone in the mystical forest. The fear of loneliness gripped his heart, but he fought against it, reminding himself that he had people in his life who cared for him – the potato nymph, the faeries, and most importantly, the amanita muscaria mushroom nymph who was waiting for him.

As Mylo faced his fear head-on, the Pond of Reflection began to ripple and change. The image of his lonely self was replaced by a scene of the spruce burrito, precariously perched on a rock in the middle of the pond. The water around the rock began to churn, as if threatening to swallow the burrito whole. Mylo knew this was his chance to act. He leaped into the water, swimming with all his might toward the rock, determined not to let his fear of loneliness stop him from saving his treasured burrito.

The moment Mylo grasped the spruce burrito, the water calmed, and he felt a newfound sense of peace and self-assurance wash over him. He realized that he had finally conquered his fear of loneliness, and in doing so, had unlocked the power to save his burrito. With a triumphant smile, he swam back to the potato nymph, who was waiting on the shore with pride in his eyes.

As Mylo and the potato nymph turned to leave the Pond of Reflection, Mylo’s heart swelled with gratitude and joy. He knew that he was no longer alone, and that by overcoming his fears, he had become stronger and more capable than ever before. With renewed confidence and a spruce burrito firmly in hand, he was ready to face whatever challenges life had in store for him, knowing that he would never truly be alone again.

With the spruce burrito finally in his grasp, Mylo the mushroom nymph could hardly contain his joy. As he turned around triumphantly, a gentle rustling in the nearby bushes caught his attention. To his amazement, Amara, the amanita mushroom girl, emerged from her hiding place, her red and white cap glowing softly in the twilight. It seemed that she had been secretly observing Mylo and the grizzled old potato nymph throughout their journey, her curiosity piqued by their quest.

Mylo’s heart swelled with happiness at the sight of Amara, and he realized that it wasn’t just the retrieval of his beloved spruce burrito that had filled him with joy, but the connection he had formed with the potato nymph and the knowledge that Amara had been there all along, watching over him. He had faced his fear of loneliness head-on and discovered the strength and courage he possessed within himself.

Amara smiled warmly as Mylo approached her, the spruce burrito still clutched in his hand. “You did it, Mylo! You found your burrito and overcame your fear. I knew you had it in you.” She reached out a delicate hand to touch his arm gently, and Mylo felt a warm, tingling sensation spread throughout his body. He knew that he had found someone special in Amara.

Feeling more courageous than ever, Mylo decided to take a chance. He looked into Amara’s eyes and said, “You know, this adventure has taught me so much about myself, but it also made me realize that I don’t want to be alone anymore. I want to share my life with someone who understands me and my fears. Amara, would you share this spruce burrito with me and, perhaps, the rest of our lives together?”

Amara’s face lit up with a radiant smile, and she nodded her head enthusiastically. “I would be honored to share this burrito and our lives together, Mylo. There’s no one else I’d rather embark on this adventure with.” And so, under the enchanting canopy of the mystical forest and the twinkling fairy lights, Mylo and Amara sat by the crystal-clear pond, their wings shimmering, and shared the now legendary spruce burrito. In that moment, they knew that their lives were intertwined and that they would face the future together, hand in hand, conquering their fears and embracing the magic that the world had to offer.

Footnote

This story was written by ChatGPT-4 using concepts and prompt engineering by me. Image(s) are generated by DALL•E 2. If you would like a PDF of how I used prompt engineering to create this short story, please contact me — if there is enough interest, I will create a guide after a pre-sale goal is met for said guide.