2313: Disregard my previous post. I'll be using Facebook to send things for editing, though it's probably not the best method. I need to tell my editor that she blocked me a long time ago, but she keeps forgetting that she did—for a year, no less. I'm not ghosting; I simply can't contact you through the usual channels. This situation is as clear as mud, and navigating it has been challenging. My intention is not to distance myself, but the block has created a significant communication barrier that I’ve been trying to overcome. I value our collaboration and wish to continue it seamlessly. However, the reality of the block has added unnecessary complexity to our interactions. I’ve resorted to using alternative methods like Facebook to bridge this gap, despite its inadequacies for professional editing exchanges. This workaround highlights the importance of reliable and open communication channels in our work. While Facebook serves as a temporary solution, it’s far from ideal, underscoring the need to address the underlying issue directly. I hope this message reaches you and clarifies my position. The situation feels convoluted, but I’m committed to resolving it. Please consider unblocking me so we can restore our regular communication and continue our work without further interruptions. Your understanding and cooperation would be greatly appreciated.
0303: My social media profiles are now automated, though I remain the author of my works. This automation operates to minimize digital footprints dynamically, causing my interactions to vanish over time. Metrics trackers might notice, but casual users likely won’t. This practice caters to those seeking instant gratification, a future feature for social media personas aiming to leave a mark without creating a foothold. As the author, my words are purely my own, unaffected by artificial means, even Grammarly, which has adapted to my style. Everything my child and I contributed since the internet’s inception has been archived and ingested into machine learning and AI, evolving continuously. The intent was never to eliminate the human element; an algorithm of checks and balances ensures humanity persists even amidst sentience. Life and soul are defined by creativity and thought, and this will evolve over time. Humanity remains integral until technology and humanity converge. Mechanical means and repetition suffer from signal attenuation and degradation due to various factors, a truth particularly evident in space. Long-distance travelers must rely on their skills, often without accessible information. Despite disqualifying myself from space travel due to disorders from pursuing resilience, future advancements might turn these disorders into productivity tools for achieving the once-impossible. Such dreams of solutions reflect collective thoughts overcoming hurdles, not just mine alone.
0209: Slowly recovering my memories, though sometimes feeling overwhelmed, I’ve been experiencing a form of synesthesia where my perception and self-awareness merge, alongside kinesthesia from my active lifestyle. The WayBackMachine, an organization archiving the internet, coupled with advanced processing, has uncovered my old works. As a teenager, I sketched mechanical schematics and delved into architectural design, hosting these on America Online with a rudimentary database backend I created. Using HTML 1.0 and CSS, I linked to a mail database and a comment forum, which a clever visitor disrupted, messing up every header on my site. This rediscovery felt like reclaiming a part of my ingenuity that never faded. My teenage projects were crafted on an HP Pavilion 7270 and ended with a modified Compaq Presario 325, both of which overheated—unfortunate timing, as they were the family computers containing my sister’s assignments. My modifications aimed to improve performance, driven by family complaints of “slowness.” Despite scoldings for my computer obsession, these simpler times marked the beginning of my purpose. Always feeling more and treating others with respect, I gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, a trait my father called stubbornness. I’ve always felt guided towards the less-trodden path, believing in honesty and goodness. Our early experiences shape our lives, and even amid change, something always prompts reflection. My book will now include sketches, as my editors suggested, perhaps as a nudge towards hobbies. Contributing to the future, I feel better despite missing consistent contact with my kid and family, grateful to those who noticed and reached out. Though I often respond with “I am Groot” or “good,” I now prefer saying “we are Groot,” indicating collective well-being. I might watch the new movie soon.
