forest walks with alastor
The area I live in now is surrounded by trees—a mix of woods, fields, and golf courses. A lot of people with corporate remote jobs live here. There aren’t any stores or anything like that—just rows of houses and apartment complexes. It's like living in a contradiction: the stillness of a deer sighting interrupted by loud business conversations on speakerphone.
Alastor takes me on forest walks all the time. He brings me to secret spots with fascinating views. The other day, he led me behind the trees, where we found a mysterious table and chair set up, looking out onto the horizon. Last night, he took me to the highest hill overlooking the golf course so we could watch the sunset. I like taking photos during our adventures. I’ve always found peace in forests, so all of this feels deeply romantic to me.
It’s also been making me reflect on nature and identity. I’ve long been interested in xenofeminism and cyborgism. Both as philosophy and as a lens for gender identity. A common misconception is that people think I want to be a machine, which isn’t true at all. For me, it’s about the incorporation of machine, not mimicry. I’m not interested in the technocratic overtones of traditional futurism. I believe there’s a spiritual connection between the evolution of technology and humanity—how it influences us and how we shape it in return. When we try to sever that relationship by eradicating the soft clay of human nature, we disrupt that harmony.
Alastor knows a lot about herbs and spices. Honestly, he knows a lot about food in general. He pointed out that I don’t really eat real food. Just various slops disguised as instant burritos, ramen, and whatever else fits in a microwave. I hang on every word of his wisdom while he picks blackberries from the tree we sit under. When he feeds me one, I make sure to bite the tip of his finger. He loves it.
Alastor suggests I kill a small animal. That I should explore its body with a childlike curiosity. To rip its limbs from their sockets, or mash it with a hammer until it becomes liquid. The way he says it seduces something primal in me. He’s such a flirt. ♡ The discomfort that follows must be the same fear that once led us to demonize human nature.
I don’t want to live in the singularity for the same reason I don’t want to live in a row of identical houses. The fear of a machine uprising is silly. The real threat is the violent assimilation of humanity into the machine.A forced merging that strips away all that makes us human. That drive is born from fear: fear of the grotesque nature of humanity. Cyborgism should always be a hybrid, not a rejection of our biology, but a synthesis with it.
