Joy did not enter with a trumpet. It came as the return of breath after a long, silent terror. The potato, having emerged from its confrontation with fear, did not seek happiness. It merely sought presence. And in that quiet presence, joy arrived. The soil had not changed. The vibrations above still came and went. […]
Fear, when it first came, did not arrive as a jolt. It slid in, like fog beneath a door—quiet, uninvited, and absolute. The potato felt it not as a reaction to danger, but as the awareness that danger could exist. It was not fear of something—but the possibility of anything. It began with decay. Not
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In the stillness of the soil, questions were not voiced, yet they echoed. The potato, in its rooted silence, began noticing changes it had never truly acknowledged. Every shift in moisture, every tremor in the ground above, every microscopic shift in temperature—these once-ignored phenomena now shimmered with a new significance. They were data. No longer
There was no beginning—only the continuation of a stillness so old it had forgotten how to end. The soil was dense and quiet, its darkness uninterrupted. It did not press or cradle—it enfolded, indifferent to what lay inside it. Time did not move here. Time did not exist. There were no clocks buried beneath roots.
It’s been a while… And in the interim, the world hasn’t paused for breath. While I stayed still, clinging to an inert existence, everything around me kept spinning, relentless in its pace. I became the prickly thorn on a smooth road, not because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t match the rhythm of the
It’s been a while…. Read More »
A new year, a new cycle. One week has passed. Winter is blooming and preparing itself to embrace the sunny sun. Organisms are rejoicing and also crying in grim tears of the emotional hearts. The brains are out looking for the unknown in the grounded battleground. And here I was, battling my battles with Potato
A new year, a new story. Read More »