SatinSoul
all i know is i forgot how to be me.
- Feb 6, 2026
- 14
i dearly recommend reading Part 1 of The Butterfly Debt:
sanctioned-suicide.net
in the math of chaos a system can seem wild and unpredictable. it can look like freedom. but eventually the variables begin to settle into a shape. they begin to orbit a ghost. no matter how far the line wanders and no matter how fast it tries to escape the path always bends back. it is a complex fractal loop where you never hit the exact same point twice but you are never truly gone. they call it a strange attractor because it doesn't look like a cage.
i have spent years thinking i was finally breaking away. i changed my name and i changed my city and i changed the way i breathe. i thought if i moved fast enough i could achieve escape velocity. i thought if i was loud enough i could shatter the pattern. but i was just widening the orbit. i was just tracing a larger version of the same recursive nightmare.
the attractor is invisible but its gravity is absolute.
it is the reason I keep waking up in the same wreckage even when the walls are labeled refuge and the paint is barely dry. the butterfly didn't just trigger a storm; it designed a cage. it is the haunting geometry that proves the Butterfly Debt isn't a one-time payment, but a subscription to a spiral. a Strange Attractor that treats my soul as a non-linear loop of pre-determined pain. every progress I claim is just the top of a cruel arc, the brief, gasping silence in the eye of a hurricane that is already pivoting to find the lines upon my face. i am not running toward a future; I am just a variable orbiting the exact same ghost, proving that the math doesn't care if I've moved. the equation only cares that i return to the center of the collapse, paying for a wing-beat i never even saw with a life i can no longer call my own.
how do you fight a shape? how do you negotiate with an equation that has already decided your trajectory?
i am so tired of the motion. i am tired of the dizzying repetition of falling and rising and falling again. i thought i was the pilot but i am just a point on a graph. i am just a variable being pulled toward a center of gravity that i cannot see but i can always feel. the attractor wants me back in the misery. it wants me back in the silence. it wants the loop to close.
oh my love, can i finally stop the spinning?
oh my love, can i finally admit it?
my love, i am so excruciatingly tired!
The Butterfly Debt
they tell you the chaos theory is beautiful. it is the idea that a single butterfly flapping its wings in a distant forest can eventually create a hurricane on the other side of the world. but they don't tell you what it's like to be the person standing where that hurricane lands, over and over...
sanctioned-suicide.net
in the math of chaos a system can seem wild and unpredictable. it can look like freedom. but eventually the variables begin to settle into a shape. they begin to orbit a ghost. no matter how far the line wanders and no matter how fast it tries to escape the path always bends back. it is a complex fractal loop where you never hit the exact same point twice but you are never truly gone. they call it a strange attractor because it doesn't look like a cage.
i have spent years thinking i was finally breaking away. i changed my name and i changed my city and i changed the way i breathe. i thought if i moved fast enough i could achieve escape velocity. i thought if i was loud enough i could shatter the pattern. but i was just widening the orbit. i was just tracing a larger version of the same recursive nightmare.
the attractor is invisible but its gravity is absolute.
it is the reason I keep waking up in the same wreckage even when the walls are labeled refuge and the paint is barely dry. the butterfly didn't just trigger a storm; it designed a cage. it is the haunting geometry that proves the Butterfly Debt isn't a one-time payment, but a subscription to a spiral. a Strange Attractor that treats my soul as a non-linear loop of pre-determined pain. every progress I claim is just the top of a cruel arc, the brief, gasping silence in the eye of a hurricane that is already pivoting to find the lines upon my face. i am not running toward a future; I am just a variable orbiting the exact same ghost, proving that the math doesn't care if I've moved. the equation only cares that i return to the center of the collapse, paying for a wing-beat i never even saw with a life i can no longer call my own.
how do you fight a shape? how do you negotiate with an equation that has already decided your trajectory?
i am so tired of the motion. i am tired of the dizzying repetition of falling and rising and falling again. i thought i was the pilot but i am just a point on a graph. i am just a variable being pulled toward a center of gravity that i cannot see but i can always feel. the attractor wants me back in the misery. it wants me back in the silence. it wants the loop to close.
oh my love, can i finally stop the spinning?
oh my love, can i finally admit it?
my love, i am so excruciatingly tired!
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