I have been afraid to go into this place because I did not know how to do what everyone seems to know. I told myself that I can only learn by doing, and so I did.
Little by little, I am using my eyes again. I enjoy seeing a room filled with things. When I can’t see something clearly, I like to get close to it. I put my eyes right on it. Blades of grass, a bowl, printed words—anything I focus on can reveal something I might otherwise take for granted. The other day, I peered at a cup of coffee I was drinking. I saw how the oils floated on the surface like lily pads. I saw the light reflect off the surface and thought about where the light had come from. It has become a dependable technique for me to look at things in this way.
I am using my hands again, too. They grasp at doors and fumble through the things I carry in my pocket. I walk around and pick things up subconsciously. I feel reassured knowing I have so many things in my pockets. Sometimes, I like to imagine that I move with my hands instead of my feet. My fingers pinch the cobblestone floors and I clamber about like a macaque. I like to turn down a hallway by grabbing the corners of the wall. I wonder what others think when they see me like this. I used to climb stairs on all fours until I realized nobody else did it like that.
Little by little, I am using my voice again. This is the hardest part. I cannot always read my partner’s tone. Their faces tell me very little about what they are thinking. I am often surprised of my own tone. I never mean to be rude, but that does not stop me from offending others. I recently learned that “goblin” is too generic a term. There are Green Goblins and Grey Goblins. You only learn something like that by talking to people. I often think of jokes to say but I usually keep them to myself. The smile comes out though. I let people see that. In the end, I don’t think I’ve ever offended someone so badly they could never talk to me again. People are tougher than that. As long as I reset my approach with them, they tend to treat me the same as they used to.
I realize that I do not need to be afraid of this prison. Actually, there are many nice people inside. The more I stay here, the more it starts to feel like home.
I did not write much about China when I lived there. I did not trust myself to write about it well. I thought I would get most things wrong. Now, all I have are memories that are almost 10 years old. I am guaranteed to get most things wrong. I do not know where my memories end and my dreams begin.
I spend more time walking than I ever have in my life. The scale of the world is different when I am walking, when reality is not rushing past my face, separated by glass. I notice the individual trees and plants. I am better at placing myself within the world. I do not get as lost as when I am driving. Time changes, too. An hour feels different on my feet. It is good for my spirit, I think. My work is right next to where I live. On any given day, I walk for all my needs. Sometimes, I travel far away so I can walk somewhere else for a change.
I met a fairy on an island. Now I guess I am getting married to her. There are some bad men at my aunt’s inn. They go to the same island as me and do not marry anyone. I do not want to talk about what they did instead. Now I am following my fairy fiancée to her home. It is on the opposite side of China. I am going to be walking a lot.
There are hostile animals, spirits, and warriors, but I am never in danger. My fiancée knows magic, after all. China is not a very dangerous place. The tensest situation I can remember is when a DiDi driver yelled at me over the phone because I could not speak Chinese well enough to give him directions. There were numerous times where I could have been in some kind of danger, but people were too nice, too friendly. When my wife and I went to Mati temple, we did not have a hired car or even a hotel booked for that night. We met a family visiting the site at the same time and they happily picked us up. Later, they shared that a relative owned a hotel in town and helped us get a room. On another trip, we tried to hike to the summit of Emei mountain. We were underprepared. We spent all our cash we had at food stalls along the hike and lodging for the night. There was a bus station near the summit but we could not afford the trip back down. We saw someone we met at the beginning of the hike. We told him about what happened and he just gave us the money. We tried to get his contact information so we could pay him back, but he told us that it was just paper to him.
All these things in my inventory, the healing items, the one-use attacks, and the equipment are just paper to me. I am not in danger. I can just focus on walking and talking to the nice people of China.
The ceiling shakes and rocks dislodge from their shelves. My machine is designed for this environment. With my machine, I am an apex predator. My treads crush rocks into powder as I rumble along. I keep my drill on always. I could turn it off. I will never turn it off. Walls are as soft as sand on the beach. Sometimes the pressure is so high that the hull gets squeezed. Squeeze too much, and the hull will break.
Like a matryoshka doll, I step out of my metallic shell. It is very hot at this depth. I have replaced the sun with the core of the Earth. This is the new fuel. I am the new engine. There are people who lived here before me. We dance to the death. Our bodies leap from the ground, just like rocks erupting from volcanoes. Our blood streams like lava. It is hot here. We have heat inside. Left behind these walls are fragments from long ago. There are people who lived here before them. There is only one way our ballet will end if we continue. We need 100% love. We need it now.
