# Cloak to Crisscross: 17-20/365

*Catching up!*

By [Author GRF Newsletter](https://paragraph.com/@gfishbone) · 2025-01-20

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CLOAK: 17/365
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Noobie mistake,  
pairing my  
Cloak of Invisibility  
with  
+3 Boots of Squeakiness.

![](https://paragraph.xyz/editor/callout/information-icon.png)

This prompt came up while I was prepping for Arisia 2025. The gaming room was a highlight this year.

![](https://storage.googleapis.com/papyrus_images/23d9385ab1743db85b6bd1834242e45e.webp)

RABBIT HOLE: 18/365
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The angels  
peered  
over my shoulder  
and urged me  
to click  
another link.  
Despite  
infinite distractions,  
Heaven lacks Wikipedia.

![](https://paragraph.xyz/editor/callout/information-icon.png)

Far too often I'll look something up and fall into a rabbit hole of linked information. Perhaps the perfect afterlife would be more access to more information and an eternity of exploration, learning, and reflection. But in this world, for the time we have in it, we make ourselves into a composite of all the experiences we have. Learning is the process of collecting more LEGO blocks we can use to build more of ourselves.

![](https://storage.googleapis.com/papyrus_images/09d7fcf7e24072affc7081452e304847.webp)

SLITHY: 19/365
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“My beamish boy!  
Hast thy vorpal blade  
slain the Jabberwock,  
thy manxome foe,  
in yon tulgey wood?”

“Skibidi,” the boy demurred.

![](https://paragraph.xyz/editor/callout/information-icon.png)

I originally sent the post out with commentary here, but what is there to say? Lewis Carroll would have loved the word "skibidi" and probably could have produced an appropriate back-etymology for it grounded in Old English. Gen Alpha's use of wordplay is the continuation of a loooooong tradition.

![](https://storage.googleapis.com/papyrus_images/a328193a397df0a3a101f9e382475afa.webp)

CRISSCROSS: 20/365
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You pass yourself  
on crisscrossing escalators,  
one of you rising  
to meet the moment,  
one of you descending  
into your collection  
of regrets.

![](https://paragraph.xyz/editor/callout/information-icon.png)

The moment I had in mind was the long-ordained time, place, and manner by which a President and Vice President of the United States will be inaugurated for the next four years. The only question we ever had was, which candidate would be riding on which escalator.

As I worked on the poem, it became more generalized and personal. One version of the poem became the finished product that I'm quite proud of, and which I think is all the better for being self-referential.

Old drafts and alternate versions descend into creative oblivion. Those versions might have very different tones and meanings. Part of me strongly prefers a version that got cast off, but an author's neurons are a democracy.

Producing more frequent creative output also means hitting more frequent decision points and more frequently throwing away promising drafts. Or maybe not throwing them away, but at least mentally collecting them in a pool for future use.

![](https://storage.googleapis.com/papyrus_images/a4f095f242cf2e37c58e92abe350b900.webp)

Musings
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A conference, a family event, and a couple of travel days can't stop the More Tomorrow train, or at least the daily practice of creativity. Sharing, sometimes, will need to work on a delay, or maybe this periodic release is actually an improvement.

Let me know what you think!

More Tomorrow.

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*Originally published on [Author GRF Newsletter](https://paragraph.com/@gfishbone/cloak-to-crisscross)*