From 0d38912c85b6f3224372ff87022e29bc8c7a0a95 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: grid Date: Sun, 29 Dec 2024 16:55:00 -0600 Subject: [PATCH] grid push --- src/diary/entries/241206 | 2 +- src/diary/entries/{241222 => 241207} | 4 ++-- 2 files changed, 3 insertions(+), 3 deletions(-) rename src/diary/entries/{241222 => 241207} (94%) diff --git a/src/diary/entries/241206 b/src/diary/entries/241206 index a5afaf7..6efc411 100644 --- a/src/diary/entries/241206 +++ b/src/diary/entries/241206 @@ -2,7 +2,7 @@

Christmas Fast on Wednesday, December 11

#health #christian

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There's some uncertainty about how to move forward with my treatment, so let's have a community day of prayer and fasting on Wednesday. If you like, participate however you like.

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There's some uncertainty about how to move forward with my treatment, so let's have a community day of prayer and fasting on Wednesday. If you like, participate however you prefer.

Should I try a third line of treatment or experimental medicine?

diff --git a/src/diary/entries/241222 b/src/diary/entries/241207 similarity index 94% rename from src/diary/entries/241222 rename to src/diary/entries/241207 index 7f939c4..8d298a4 100644 --- a/src/diary/entries/241222 +++ b/src/diary/entries/241207 @@ -21,11 +21,11 @@

Some favorites come to mind: the Velvet Room in Persona, the towers in Code Lyoko, the Room of Requirement in Hogwarts Legacy (sorry Harry Potter people, I only know this game), and Ryan Gosling's AI girlfriend in Blade Runner 2049. Spaces like guild halls in Guild Wars and runecrafting altars in RuneScape give that sense of being whisked away to a private space only you can your friends can enter. It's more fun when that secret world is tied to an item, like the Modron Cube in Planescape: Torment.

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There are a few from my childhood, too. I ran away from home a lot (lol) and haunted the few spaces that felt safe and empty - a wedding chapel in the woods that was never locked, a strangely unused house in my neighborhood, and the unlit sanctuary of a church by my school. My childhood writing reflected these, periodically taking a character or two out of the scene and setting them on some island to play out their solitude. It's probably a disassociative misanthropic tendency of mine, but whatever. I just crave hiding places.

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There are a few from my childhood, too. I ran away from home a lot (lol) and haunted the few spaces that felt safe and empty - a wedding chapel in the woods that was never locked, a strangely unused house in my neighborhood, and the unlit sanctuary of a church by my school. My childhood writing reflected these, periodically taking a character or two out of the scene and setting them on some sort of island to play out their solitude. It's probably a disassociative misanthropic tendency of mine, but whatever. I just crave hiding places.

Cancer's Small World

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Over a globetrotter life with friends and fancy indulgences everywhere, I prefer this simple kind of life. Lately, cancer's bred a superstition in me, too, about that kind of excitement--that any stress, even eustress, sabotages my body and wastes precious recovery energy. Then the chemo fog makes my head run like a slow computer. I always preserved my garden sphere, but now it's a mild, almost childishly shallow place. Sometimes my natural asceticism stirs with guilt over this hedonistic routine I never expected to have. Lounging and enjoying simple pleasures is not the life I tend towards. But what else can I do when my constitution is so weak, physically and mentally?

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I prefer a simple kind of life with close friends and no drama. Compounding it, cancer's bred a superstition in me about excessive fun and excitement--maybe any stress, even eustress, sabotages my body and wastes precious recovery energy. Then the chemo fog makes my head run like a slow computer. I always preserved my garden sphere, but now it's a mild, almost childishly shallow place. Sometimes my natural asceticism stirs with guilt over this hedonistic routine I never expected to have. Lounging and enjoying simple pleasures is not the life I tend towards. But what else can I do when my constitution is so weak, physically and mentally?

Straight out of the hospital, I marathoned Kitchen Nightmares to an extreme that is frankly embarrassing. I don't think I'm alone. The Youtube comments are full of hospital patients and people watching with dying relatives. Gordon Ramsay perfected braindead television. Any episode is a safe bet--a handful of employees to remember, a villain of the week, and Ramsay's miracle cure-all: a coat of white paint, tiny pretentious burgers, and a heart-to-heart. Nothing's so bad it can't be resolved fairly quickly. This is truly the epitome of garden sphere reality cable.