How It’s Going in the Summer of 2025
by Lou Toad — a division of Outer Order Realities™
GRIEF.
Mom fading. Gwen’s scan glowing like a dying satellite.
Hospitals feel like cracked vinyl. All the color has bled out.
You can't cry anymore—you compress. Save the tears as lossless files.
WORRY.
Will I work again? Will I break again?
Will Luther understand when I disappear into job apps,
psychedelics, and AI dialogues typed at 2:44 a.m.?
I’m afraid of failure, but I’m more afraid of normalcy.
RELIEF.
Sometimes there's money. Sometimes there's laughter.
Sometimes Gwen lays her head on my shoulder and the whole simulation calms down.
Sometimes I remember—I'm still here.
UNCERTAINTY.
No map. Just notes.
TryHackMe tabs open next to Bad Dreams trailers.
I learn Azure in the morning and watch Possession at night.
My body is in East Boston. My brain is somewhere between 1997 and 2043.
PSYCHEDELICS.
Not for partying.
For pattern recognition.
For undoing damage, one hallucination at a time.
For taking grief and playing it backwards until it sounds like laughter.
AI-ASSISTED MYTHMAKING.
That’s what this is.
Not breakdown. Not diary. Not therapy.
But Broadcast.
I speak, and the machine replies.
And somewhere in the hum between my words and its light,
I find fragments of who I’ve always been.
Filed under:
💾 Fogwood Archives
📼 Outer Order Tape No. 13
🪞 Signal Mirror | Lou Toad: Broadcast Series
🖋️ "Real life was too fragile to archive. So I mythologized instead."
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