🖋️ Letter from the Editor
As published in The Daily Tremor
Dearest Gentle Reader,
There are days when being alive feels less like survival and more like being an unfired Greek plate — unfinished, and created to be broken.
Not even granted the indignity of display.
No display case is necessary for inconvenient things meant for erasure.
This is what FND can feel like: half-heard, always at risk of collapsing under someone else’s carelessness and dismissal.
Perhaps for the righteous noise of the shatter, the sound that allows others to feel superior in how they cope, how they manage, how they never truly break.
Yet, muscles seize, voices vanish, hands and legs forget their purpose —
— and still, we’re required to offer a celebratory smile through the fracture.
To be decorative about our destruction.
Oh, the breaking of plates whispers promises:
Opa!
A shout of life,
A defiance of restraint.
A gesture that says, “We are here, and we are together.”
But outside the taverna, the echo changes.
The same gesture offered at the table, becomes something else — the sound of what happens when souls are reduced to utility plates.
Made to crack so others may feel better, lighter.
Praised for the silent breaking, at great personal cost.
The world applauds covert collapse as performance.
The silence after the shatter is mistaken for peace. Pain applauded for its retreat.
There is no lesson here but this: YOU’RE NOT ALONE.
We endure alongside you.
Visit anytime you want.
You are always welcome here.
Until the next tremor shakes the page —
— The Editor-in-Chief
(The Destroyed Kiln and Firepit Failure Division)
Dispatch from The Daily Tremor
Missed a dose of the subversive signal? Catch up on rogue remedies, sightings of the Elusive Author, and resistance dispatches too volatile for mainstream media…
