Judas In You
FOREST DIARY: FEB 8-11, 2026
February 8
The wind is whipping so fast it’s lifting up clouds of snow-mist and hurling them across the plain. During porch-smokes the Buddy heater stays lit if I make two wind-walls with my legs, singeing my shins slightly. Keep imagining the haircut I’ll give myself but don’t want to deal with the mess. The Venerable Bede in AD 700 was firing off letters to Northern Heathens instructing them not only when and how to properly celebrate Easter, but how to cut their hair. A proper tonsure means fixing your crown of thorns, perpetually rocking thorns. Your hair is your crown. Feel like this used to be part of my editing process, cutting my own hair. It’s elsewhere, in Samson, in Judges. In the instructions to the samurai in Hagakure (1716).1 Where else. I can feel myself copying Greta’s flow right now, but her flow felt influenced by mine, from before, and this feels good again, reciprocating flows. When did it stop feeling like this. I get it it’s biological they just want to feel safe. Sometimes I feel like he would have hated all of this, like you guys ruined everything. Other times I’m not thinking anything whatsoever about any of it.
February 9
