January 11, 2026

I was taking a ferry back to Vancouver and thought about getting off at one of the earlier stops to take a trek through the woods. I would however have to wait until I’d at least crossed the border first.

I filled up my water bottle and headed to the restroom which resembled those cramped toilets you’d find on a plane. I was already peeing before I realized that this was also the gangway to get onto the boat.

Another passenger was watching videos of Speed while noting down all of the slang they were unfamiliar with.

A professor had wanted them to write a makeup paper for what humans were good at. Something that was more basic than language. I suggested that it was some kind of abstracted form of imitation, like the way we’d express the concept of rain using our voice and bodies.

He provided some metaphor about balloons being able to lift things up but suffocating whatever it was carrying in the process to illustrate how you can’t force children to learn things; you had to let them figure out things by themselves first.