All Opinions Wrong But Useful

@rixx@chaos.social · @rixxtr



adjective, noun. \ˈkrisp\

1 a: easily crumbled, brittle. For months now, you’ve felt brittle. Your energy’s been sapped until it ran out, and all that remained was a dry shell, easily crumbled if you handle it thoughtlessly or look at it too hard. All the self-care advice are just a hollow shell crying out “hydrate me” with no means of retention apart from fan service.

1 b: burnt to a crisp. A brittle dehydrated structure like that is not only easier crushed, it’s also not protected from incineration. You felt safe because fire needs a spark, and you hadn’t felt any spark in a long time. You had forgotten that ignition temperature decreases with increasing ambient pressure, and the pressure gauge had looked broken for a long time. You hit auto-ignition pressure levels.

2 a: notably sharp, clean-cut, and clear. Fire cares not for your justifications and rationalisations. It exists, and burns, and you better be ready to deal with it. It’s not cleansing, but it does focus you, and it certainly casts everything in a very stark and real light. You see what is, not what ought to be.

2 b: noticeably neat. Once the immediate fire has burnt itself out, you count what’s left and arrange it in neat, reassuring rows. That’s not hard to do when there’s not much left. Everything is covered in soot and surrounded by smoke. You’ll spend a long time cleaning everything, but it’s look neatly arranged nonetheless.

2 c: briskly cold. Winter is coming, the fire is over, and you’re getting ready to hibernate. It’s going to be cold, with nothing left to warm your brittle, welded-together shell. Cozy it is not. You’re out of a home, out of a life.

2 d: deftly and powerfully executed. Out of a home, out of a life, but your emptiness is starting to fill with plans and dreams. Despite the season and Mr Rilke, you find a new home, and set up for hibernation, recovery, and a comeback. From the outside, it looks like a decisive maneuver.

2 e: brisk, lively. Your comeback is the stuff of your dreams. You come out of hibernation when the first spring flowers blossom. You spent the winter with your roots, getting them to trust you and grow. In turn, they nourished you and told you where to go. Now you find yourself energetic and ready to follow the path they laid out for you.

With apologies to Merriam-Webster.