>U: BN
TS: June 1st, 2170, 21:30:11
Midsummer.
Not on Earth, no-- Most cultures that still celebrate the day, whether on Earth or beyond, do it on the 24th. Our seasons were close to Earth's, but not quite the same: Summer was much longer, and as such the “midsummer” date (and the summer solstice) would occur around late May and early June this year. To make it simpler for everyone, it was decided to celebrate on June 1st. Every year the date changed, of course-- Mindoir's years don't quite match up with Earth years, as our years incorporate an extra seventeen days, which makes planning holidays far more complicated than they need to be. (Fitting in our new year with Earth's new year and the Chinese new year was always entertaining.)
The holiday is always well timed: The corn harvest is over (thank every power that may be), and the wet season begins shortly after, which means we get to look forward to days spent inside trying to avoid drowning. The growing season is year round, you don't really have a winter until you get closer to the poles, so we alternated crops depending on the wet and dry seasons. Dry, corn, with wheat every few years to turn the soil. Wet, coffee and rice.
With everything still so dry, the traditional midsummer celebration, which involves bonfires and fireworks, is incredibly dangerous-- So, naturally, we went ahead and did it anyway, and I'm fairly certain we only nearly burned the forest down twice in my lifetime. There was always a large fire in the middle of town with fireworks and vendors selling all kinds of foods, and families would have bonfires in their backyards where the adults would sit around and eat and talk and their kids would jump over the fire and shoot fireworks off and generally just tempt burns all night. Much later at night, once the parents had finally retreated to bed, we would go out into the forest to the river, and use the large rocks there to construct fire pits to start our own fires once again. We would swim if the river was high enough, and drink and smoke whether it was high enough or not, and set off whatever fireworks we hadn't yet set off in town. How we never managed to drown or otherwise kill ourselves is a mystery I doubt I'll ever solve.
I'm not writing this out of nostalgia-- Honestly, I don't miss the burns. I'm writing it because anything is better to think about than life in this ward. The sheer routine here is starting to get on my nerves. Wake up, take your pills, breakfast with the other patients who are fascinating to watch but a pain to try to speak to-- which is unfortunate, because Kitt's trying socialization therapy with me, which means I have to deal with groups of these nutcases. Everyone is so... trusting. Open. They actually like talking about their issues! The guy who doesn't feel better until he's destroying something: his house, his relationships, himself. The woman dealing with bipolar disorder, some days smiling and effervescent and speaking with her squeaky voice that drives me up walls, other days flat and unsmiling and giving me dirty looks if I watch her too openly for too long. The woman who needs attention and can only get it through increasingly reckless stunts-- her, her I like. She's easy to wind up, and once you get her going you can derail the entire session quick enough. The man who's convinced he's being watched, who keeps smiling sadly and shaking his head and bemoaning our ignorance toward this power that's controlling our every move. The soldier with PTSD who watches me far too closely.
The list goes on and on. There are more people in this ward than I'd expect. A lot of them have stress related issues. That's less surprising.
I really hate these group therapies. I don't want to talk to them any more than I want to talk to you, doctor. And they keep trying to call me Al. I abhor Al. Al is a really unfortunate, really uncreative nickname, and reckless keeps calling me it, probably to get even for me setting her off all the time.
Dr. Rhodes, how much longer am I going to have to tolerate this? Look at this: Four days and I'm already whining. Do you really want to see how much I can complain in a week's time?
>U: /EN