I want to publish my books one day. And I hope to whatever God is out there, that I can sell enough books that I don't have to work as a wage slave the rest of my life. I love being a chef, don't get me wrong. But the work is brutal, and I can't do this full time forever. Not since I got covid back in 2020. And I'm getting older. I don't know how long my health will last.
I will die one day, I know. But I want to leave my mark before I go. My books are my legacy. I won't be having kids, even if I was able. I was infertile even before HRT. My books are the engravings of my very soul. And I so dearly hope that people enjoy them, even when I'm gone.
And I WILL finish them. That much I promise. I have a whole trilogy, over a million words between them. They arent ready yet. Lost of fine tuning and lore inconsistencies to take care of. They tell a singular story, and so must be finished together.
And if Fate would have it, I will gladly write more books within the same universe. I would love to create more stories, of the lives of characters from different places and times. That would be a dream come true. No writer's block could stand in my way, if people actually enjoyed my books and asked me for more. Books are meant to be read, and the demand would drive me to create more.
That would be the greatest dream. I fantasize of a time and place when people make fan art and fanfics of my stories. Such a thing is the greatest compliment of them all. I dream of engaging people to such a degree that they bless me with such gifts. As improbable as it may be, this fanciful dream keeps me going, even as life tries to stop me. Even as the world tries and fails to end my life. I'm still here, bitch. And I'm not done yet.
Sorry, I'm a bit drunk right now. I only hope my life finds meaning through my written works. And that my soul find a new home when I'm free of this dysphoric moral shell.
I know there is more to mortal existence than my physical brain can conceive. Time didn't exist before space came to be. Time is a dimension we only perceive through the inevitable growth of entropy. This is why we can't remember the future. Even though time itself is but another dimension, we can't perceive it. Only the effect it has on 3d space.
We don't know reality. And I fear what awaits me on the other side of death. But I know that reality is so much more than what we see. This life is but light filtered through to our meat computers we call our brains. There's so much more that we can't see, trapped behind the veil of our universe's axioms.
We will all see the truth when we die, never to tell the living what we learned. I know that one day, even humanity will go extinct. So why do i want to leave my mark, knowing just how fleeting it is? I don't know. Perhaps that's the true meaning of nihilism. We make our own meaning in this life.
This is why I chose the name of Undeadentropy. When creation goes to die, the soul lives on beyond even death. My name is the essence of the soul. Impossible to prove by the laws of science, bound to this world as they are. But inevitable when considered through a philosophical lense. Undeadentropy is magic. A force that has no place in this universe. It has no axiom to bind it to any reality our moral minds can conceive. But it remains the only explanation for how those axioms, and our very universe, came to exist in the first place.
I love you all. And I hope we all find some meaning in this meaningless universe, where even the Divine can exist as nothing more than a feeling deep within our soul. And though we might fight and struggle within these flesh prisons, one day we'll be free. We will meet again, and laugh about this crazy dream we know as life. Until that day comes, take care of yourself. And know that I will always love you.
