my pudding self

if your brain could be made of anything except what it is right now (which is mostly fat and water in this world), what would you want it to be made of? 

it's a weird question, one i never really thought of before getting into the particular story my english class is covering right now. exhalation by ted chiang, which was published in about 2019, i wanna say...? 

in that story, people's brains are made of... well, that's the wrong way to start it. their brain is composed of layers of wire mesh, and gold flakes attached to those meshes(? still mesh? idk the plural version). then, air flows very quickly through the mesh and cavities of their brains, molding the flakes and changing their direction. these bursts of air form patterns over time, and thus their ways of functioning / memory / personality are all defined by such.

so, if (...when) they run out of air and it stops flowing through them completely, those patterns are lost. if they are given air again, it's basically a total hard reset.

i'm not super great at explaining things, but i hope it makes sense. or maybe if it doesn't, you could read the story for yourself and tell me what you think of it~ (it's only like. six pages long, so not a huge commitment or anything :p) 

to be honest. i don't have an answer to this question, LOLZ. maybe pudding, or some sort of gel, since that would be closest to the actual consistency and makeup, right? well. but then, how would it work? what about the nerves, the neurons? what would those be made of...

i remember writing a zombie story some years ago, and i thought mangoes would be a good replacement for their food? literally no clue why i thought that. i just went "huh. brains. mangoes. perfectly the same!" ?????????????????

speaking of zombies. i wish i could write stories about them. but i dunno, it just doesn't work. their depictions seem a lot more limited than that of other creatures, like vampires for instance. maybe i just need to read more zombie books (where i am, my library doesn't really have a whole bunch).

but i'm getting so off topic. i wanted to return to the story, which ended with a sentiment i really appreciated seeing written out. that the narrator engraved their story, with the intention of living again. passing on their world, to the reader. hoping that the reader wasn't exploring their world for the sake of conquest or other vain / shallow needs, but that they were genuinely interested in all the world holds, all that their time held.

to live again, through words and in someone's mind. for their minds to be one and the same for a time. to be truthful, and show things as they were across the chasm of time (and even death)...

anyway. i dunno. i wanted to cry when i thought about it hard enough. that's really what the humanities and art are for. so many understate their importance nowadays. what do we live for, if not to connect?

sotd: have a stroll by perfume