If you didn't start at the beginning, I encourage you to start at Wabi-Sabi America: Introduction
Chapter 9: The Squaldo Glitch Chronicles
The Disappearance of the Man Who Finally Stopped Trying to Load Correctly
Entry #1 They didn’t know I was leaving because I didn’t leave like most people do. I didn’t run, I didn’t slam a door, I just… timed out. Like a page that never loads. Like a blinking cursor that forgets its sentence.
I didn’t vanish. I glitched. Out of their rhythm, out of their logic, out of their world that kept demanding full signal in a place where I’d lost reception a long time ago.
Entry #4 I used to believe glitches were flaws. That something must be wrong with me—why else would I feel sideways in every room? Then I started listening to the silence between the normal. It whispered, “You’re not broken, you’re just on a different channel.” So I stopped trying to sync and started echoing in the static.
Entry #9 They asked me what I do for a living. I said, “I live outside the feed.” They blinked. Then offered me a link to their podcast.
Entry #13 Found an old mug in the forest. Not broken—just distorted. Handle twisted, bottom warped like it had gone through the kiln sideways. It didn’t hold water right, but it held warmth. And somehow, it held me, like it remembered something about me the world never did.
Entry #18 I carved my name into bark once. Years later, I came back— and it was still there, but glitched. The tree had grown over it… and through it. My name now curved in places it wasn’t meant to, a letter missing, another doubled. I laughed because that’s how I feel when I speak out loud: recognizable, but off-center.
Entry #23 Someone said, “Aren’t you lonely out here?”
I said, “No. I’m buffering.”
They didn’t get it. But the wind did.
Entry #33 I don’t measure days anymore. Not by clocks or check-ins. I measure them in system lag, in how often I forget to perform, in how long I can sit still without thinking of something to say.
I used to be a man made of expectations. Now I’m just an echo with a pulse.
Entry #40 Final one, maybe. If you’re reading this, I’m not lost. I’m just unrecoverable. I’ve stopped syncing with old versions of myself. I’ve become a glitch in the framework— The kind that doesn’t get patched. If you ever feel it too—that strange delay in your smile, that moment when your thoughts don’t match the room, that deep sense that you were programmed for a different kind of quiet—then know this: You’re not defective, you’re Squaldo-compatible.
Walk softly. Load slowly. And when the signal cuts out? Keep walking. You’re almost home.
...to be continued...
Sometimes the most valuable thing you own holds absolutely nothing. It’s not what the cup carries. It’s how it changed your hands.
Chapter 10: The Cup That Held Nothing (And Everything)
Stay tuned, next Wednesday at 8 pm sharp, 2000 hours Eastern Standard Time.
Coming up, I will publish the next chapter, ten in all plus an Epilogue. So until then, do a little homework, wouldja? Share this project with your friends, your contacts, your family and those who you know might need a little bit of gold filter for the cracks in their bowl. Here's an easy copy/paste message for you to post on your walls:
Hey friends! You ever hear about our experience those new shows on the tubes the aired every week and your entire week after each airing kept your anxiety levels high? Lemme tell you about this Wabi-Sabi America project by Author Known. Every Wednesday at 8 pm EST, a new chapter is published. They are short chapters and they lack some new, enlightening and, well, freakishly odd and pleasant at the same time. Go here, get caught up and get on the notification list. You'll be happy you did!
https://www.buymeacoffee.com/authorknown/Wabi-Sabi-America
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