The Nicest Badass From Another Universe

One day, I found myself angry at Dionysus again. Not a small kind of anger, not something clean. Something deeper. Restless. Tight. The forest was quiet. Too quiet. “He’s definitely up to something,” I muttered. I started walking faster. His traces were everywhere: spilled wine soaking into the earth, crushed grapes under my feet, wreaths hanging carelessly from branches. But him? You never really catch him. Then I heard it. Laughter. Soft. A little drunk. A little mocking. But warm in a way that unsettled me more than anything. I followed it. And there he was. Sitting on a rock, head tilted back, laughing at the sky. Surrounded by silhouettes. Bodies moving without rhythm, without restraint, as if something inside them had broken loose and refused to return. One was laughing too hard, barely breathing, tears running down their face. Another was crying, quiet and hollow, like something had finally given up. Someone else stood still, completely empty, or maybe finally full. I couldn’t t...

Entry II — The Hollow Hours The nights blend into each other now. I can’t tell where one ends and the next begins. Time stretches thin, like it’s about to rip, and I drift somewhere in between. Sleep swears it won’t take me, not fully. Instead I float in half-dreams, where blurred faces melt, voices scatter, darkness hums… and everything slips away before I can reach out and grasp it. The silence is heavy. Louder, even. My chest feels hollow, my head heavier with every blink, every passing hour. I try to remember what used to make me feel alive. Joy, fear, even simple rest. Was it real? Is it still possible? Those things feel like they belonged to someone else. Someone I can barely recall. The same ache in my skull, the same sense that little pieces of me are being stolen away in the dark. So I sink into the hours. Small. Curled in on myself. And I wonder how far down it goes… and if there’s anything left of me when I finally reach the bottom. --- Maybe it was a time jump all along. ...