There's no way.

I look right, sheer wall. I look left, same thing. With my last ounce of hope I turn around, and what I find is an overwhelming sense of confusion, as if I was expecting a magic escalator out of this canyon. Stomach free-falls to my knees. Heart starts pounding in my throat. Legs go limp and I collapse into the dirt, narrowly missing a cactus. What was once an inkling of hope has now deteriorated into full blown panic. With fists clenched I start to hyperventilate; breathing as fast as my heart is beating. This is it. This was my last mistake in this life. I should have never rappelled down here. Tears disappear into the sand as I continue to gasp for air. I stare at the sky, thinking it will be the last time I see that beautiful blue.

It's intensely hot in this desert, but I start feeling cold. The lack of oxygen from shallow breaths dwindles my fire inside. Despair helps to weaken the flame by attrition. But before it finally goes out, something inside tells me to check again.

"What?"

"CHECK AGAIN! How dare you give up so easily!" Like I just smacked myself in the face.

My breathing starts to return to normal, tears have stopped falling, and the pigment returns to my palms as I release my clenched fists. I dry my eyes to take another look at my cage, but these walls may as well be glass. My rope hangs down 200 feet but I don't have the strength or the tools to climb back up it. With rock climber's eyes I scan again, searching for any possible route up.

Aha! There's hope after all! Hidden within the shadowy side of the canyon, two walls meet perpendicular to each other. A dihedral, off-width crack, possibly big enough to be a chimney. I must investigate further.

"Ok, deep breath." My strength returns alongside the fire in my soul. "I will not go down without a fi-- FUCK!" As I place my hands at my sides to help myself stand up, my left hand, at full force, slams into the cactus I barely missed when I collapsed. "MOTHERFUCKER THAT HURTS." I scream at the top of my lungs, then seconds later echoed back from the walls. Yelling that loudly made me feel even better, like I forcefully expelled the despair. Mumbling more swear words to myself, I remove the cactus spines. Once more I try to stand up, this time mindfully aware of the cactus.

Hand now throbbing, I make my way toward the dihedral. The closer I get, the bigger the crack gets. This looks like a chimney... even better. I feel so small as I gaze directly up the wall, but luckily I am the perfect size to fit into this off-width chimney and stem-climb my way up, the way I imagine Santa Claus gets back to his sleigh. I take my time inspecting every inch of the route, and I notice the chimney gradually gets more narrow towards the top. From my view, it looks like the narrowest part at the top will be my biggest challenge.

Heart starts racing again in anticipation. There's a weight in my stomach urging me to keep my feet on the ground, but I don't listen to it. This is the only way I can continue living, the only way I can see my family again. I reach down to grab a handful of dirt and rub my hands together to dry my sweaty palms. I wear my pack over my chest and tighten the straps, then commence my ascent towards freedom.

I am grateful this side of the canyon is shaded because it's made the sandstone feel much cooler to the touch, helping my hands stay dry. The chimney itself mysteriously makes its own wind current, but it's cooling me off. The beginning of this climb is wide enough to stem climb. My back rests on one side of the wall, hands pressed upside down next to my hips, and my feet smear vertically on the other side. To my right, the canyon, to my left, the dark slot of the chimney. I start inching my way up. This will help me conserve the arm strength I will need at the top. This type of movement is like a vertical crab walk; I place one foot above the other, use the counter-pressure from my hands to elevate my body, and then repeat, alternating my feet. I must always keep at least one foot on the wall at all times, otherwise I would fall face-first into the wall, and then straight to the bottom. I continue this trend upwards, the distance between myself and the ground ever growing. I only have my will-power to cheer me on. My left hand still hurts, but not enough to deter me from my goal.

With my eyes strictly locked forward, only looking at my shoes, I refuse to look at how far up I've made it. Instead I look up, and I'm met with a joyous fear as I see the width of the crack begin to shrink. Well, that must mean I'm almost to the top! And without thinking, I immediately look down to see how far I've come. The dizzying height makes me lose my focus, my hands instantly perspire and slip out from under me. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest as I scream in terror. I use the back of my head and shoulders to stop myself from falling further. I may have slid only a foot, but the shock itself made it feel like I was on my way to the bottom. Now I'm wedged in an uncomfortable position, with my head aching from smacking the rock, and a racing pulse in my throat. My feet sit well above my body with my shoulder blades and head pressed firmly against the opposite wall as my only lifeline. I hold back the tears, wipe these sweaty palms on my pants, and take a deep breath. I look out to my right and find the bright side; the view is lovely from up here. And my adrenaline has spiked to levels never felt before, giving me the high I need to continue.

I don't know how far it is to the bottom, but it wouldn't matter. It's far enough to remember every bad decision I've ever made on the way down. After I calm myself and remember my goal, I reassess the situation. I need to get my body back perpendicular to my legs. The only way is to dig my elbows into the rock behind me because my hands can't get enough traction from this angle. I push away the looming terror of there being nothing but 150 feet of air below me, ending in solid rock, and I focus on the 50-plus feet I have left to go. I clench my teeth, and yell loudly in pain as I use all my strength to get myself back to position. I can't see them, but I'm sure my elbows are now bleeding, like I painted a petroglyph that no one will see. I am out of breath. I want nothing more than to rest, but I can feel my strength fading. I must use this adrenaline boost before it wears off.

As I continue upward, I can't help but think how surreal a feeling this is; wedged between two monstrous rocks yet feeling like I'm floating on air. Death just one more slip away. If I could actually float, it would solve several of my problems. My knees are now pushing into the pack on my chest. This is as far as I go with the crab walk. I look up, and I guesstimate there's about 30 more feet to go. 5 more body lengths, not bad! I'm so close I can almost taste it, but I still have a long way to go. I feel incredibly scared, but almost proud of myself for how far I've come. No sense stopping now. I put my left foot under my hip, and push my body upwards, essentially standing up. I look down at my right foot, and see the only part gripping the wall is the toe. A scary sight as the drop looms beyond. I slowly bring myself back down to sit on my calf, and from this position, I can bring my right foot up to a more comforting spot. I'll sit here for a second.

I put my pack on the correct way, and after about a minute, I stand up again. The wind now blowing harder than it did on the ground. If only I had wings then I could ride this updraft to the top. Wish I had a Red Bull... No, stop daydreaming. For another 10 feet, I alternate my feet up the walls until I get to a point that is too narrow for my head. Now I will have to lean out over the drop. I felt safer stemming up between the walls. I'll be very exposed now. I summon all my climbing knowledge and decide that lie-backing will be the best technique. I will have to reorient my body the other way and walk my feet up the wall that my back has been resting on this whole time. Then I have to let my body lie back towards the floor of the canyon, with only my hands keeping me from the backwards free fall. Sounds like freaking fun.

My left leg starts shaking uncontrollably, known to climbers as the "sewing machine leg," felt when fear of the height outweighs the focus you should have on your body. This is not the time to have sweaty hands either. I just continue making the most efficient moves I know how to make, and eventually I forget about the leg, and it stops shaking. I place my right hand above my right foot, hoping the sandstone absorbs most of the moisture. Then, I point my left foot upwards and place my left hand above it, matching what I'm doing on the other side. I summon my inner Spiderman and pray that my feet don't slip out from under me. This is my crux: The hardest part of this entire ascent. I hold my breath. My back is facing the valley below, and in a desperate act of faith, I simultaneously fall backwards into the other wall and move my right leg opposite. Success. I can breathe again. Now for the real leap of faith. I slowly shimmy my feet out towards my left, and I inch my body towards the edge with them. With my left hand, I press my palm firmly on the wall next to my face. I turn my body so that I can use my right hand to grip the 90 degree edge of the crack; fingers pointing inside. I start to lie my body over the free fall as the sun pleasantly greets my face. Then gracefully bring my left hand beside my right. No time to waste, this expends a lot of energy. I find my sync and walk up the wall in rhythmic fashion.

15 feet to go. 10 feet... 5 feet... uh oh. I can finally see the desert carrying off to the horizon, but I seem to be stuck in this position. My feet are standing where I need to grab to pull myself up and out of this godforsaken hole. GODDAMNIT. My hands are starting to feel weak. I can feel them about to slip off at any second. Fuck it... I pull myself forward, and with my only attempt I stretch for the top of the cliff. My shoes give way to gravity, and as I begin to fall, my right hand catches on the edge. My whole body hanging on by one hand. I throw my left hand beside it, and do the only pull-up I ever want to do again. I lay there, legs still dangling off the edge, and I start to weep. I made it. I wipe my eyes, slowly stand up, and aim both middle fingers at what was once my prison. The place that could very easily have claimed my life. I never want to see a canyon again.

chicken little said it best

everything that could go

wrong is falling in down

pick a topic any topic

the end of each telling

is doom

external internal

no hiding places exists

from upcoming melee

catastrophe holocaust

no where to get away

no safety

future once was promise

now it holds slow death

think on it

dread fills you with ice

shatters of former self

sharp frigid piercing

I’m smarter, more successful

Also sadder, more stressful

suffocating

Pit fever burning

waiting and yearning

Stomach dropped nerves

no straight lines

it‘s all curves

taking me at breakneck speed

I should be on top of the world

but I’m chasms deep

high pressure

high stakes

low faith

another mistake

time ticking to the dead line

my brain screaming it’s not fine

guilt sits, Atlas shrugged

anger burns, anxiety runs

A ledge makes a sharp, cutting fulcrum

Unnatural to my center of gravity

Perched upon a destiny

Invites hindsight to laugh--giddy and cruel

All the life behind me

Leans me forward toward the sounds of traffic

All of the relief before me

Is only halfheartedly resistant

What's known, the past, is solid

With consequences etched in stone

What's not lies ahead, with lies

The future is a hard place

Is there a point

Not quite in free fall

Not quite in retreat

Where I can continue, laughing, too?

Dark house, lights out,

Long night, alone now,

Shadows move, rooms black,

Strange noise, moving about,

Heavy air, frozen feet,

Something lurks, between the sheets,

Eyes wide, skin cold,

Deep breath, long hold,

Not alone, emerging face,

Helpless, stuck in place,

Another night, darkness,

Sleeping paralysis

The clicking on my right. Long nails, dry skin. She always starts picking at her skin when she is on the phone.

Click. Click. Click.

Let's try this again. I press my fingers into the chords, pluck at the strings--

Click. Click. Click.

"What is the name of those actors in the..."

In the movie we saw two hours ago.

I stop altogether once again, "It was So and So."

"That's right, So and So were in the Movie we saw."

Trying again to pluck at the strings--

Click. Click. Click.

The cats scream at each other on top of the staircase.

Tummy recoils. Banging on the wall to scare them off because he hates the sound of the cats screaming, and I hate the sound of him barking at the cats to stop.

Click. Bang. Click.

He comes downstairs, stands in front of me, starts asking me to play So and So song.

I try to pluck at the strings, looking for the chords on my phone,

but he is asking for eye contact. He is still standing in front of me. Talking.

Telling me to sing. To play. But also to listen. To call on the cats. To play what he wants. To talk about rent. The incoming electricity bill. The war in Palestine.

But to--

Click. Click. Click.

The glass in the kitchen clangs against the counter, knives in my ears. The wind outside rattles the branches; an open oven that is much too hot.

Windows are still closed.

Click. Clang. Eye contact. "Go ahead and sing, it makes me happy when you play."

Click. Clang. The windows rattle from the heat.

Every time I inhale it feels like what comes in is chlorine. The air outside is the same as the air coming in. I can't tell anymore, am I--

Click. Clang. Windows rattle. Am I breathing? Click. Clang. Windows rattle.

Cats scream.

My phone screen lights up. Is he okay? Is something wrong? Why won't he talk to me like he did before--

Click. Clang. Windows. Cats. Phone. Guitar. She laughs much too loud, slaps her hand against her thigh, and he bears his teeth at her in irritation, claps his hands together and bangs the wall to scare the cats and I keep wondering what is my problem, what is going on, the rug is itchy and smells of mildew, my finger is bleeding, I want to throw up, I can't throw up, they will ask what is the matter with me and it will be worse, I can't throw up if I can't breathe, what if he dies and all he remembers is me being unkind, what if this is it, why is my mouth so dry, have I even changed when everything else has not, am I imagining that we are falling apart because--

stop talking, stop talking, stop talking,

I want to scream, my hands are numb.

I quietly finish the rest of my drink. Deep claustrophobic breath.

The shaking stops.

The world quiets down for

just a single moment,

and I do not know

how much longer

I can actually

go on.

breathe...

stomach tightening into knots,

something in the windows, or

something is not where it's

supposed to be. disarray. panic.

a stranger. the walls are moving.

shifting, like an A.I. generated image,

I cannot trust my eyes. I cannot trust

my ears. I cannot trust my fingertips,

all six and a half of them. wait. not

right. I cannot trust my brain, my body.

I cannot trust you.

b r e a t h e . . .

everything feels slower now. in a

fast way. slow and fast. all at once.

my breathing is slow. fingers clenched

tight. I cannot afford to let go. of myself.

I cannot stop. writing. thinking.

breathing.

was that always here? the hole in the

wall? or did someone drill a hole,

trepanation, planted a camera, a nail

to hang a picture frame to cover

their eyes. watching. I am being watched.

b r e a t h e . . .

I am stretched thin trying to remember

who I am and where I left the keys. check

the pocket. the car. under the bed. the other

pocket. hiding places are everywhere. I cannot

let it swallow me.

i don't have time to check today. running

late. don't look back, or i'll be. trapped here.

i don't have time to cross my t's or capitalize

my i's. is there even an I left or is it only i. do i

have a proper noun or only this false semblance,

meant to be an adjective. i describe you. i am u.

b r e a t h e . . .

too long. too loud. too much. too many. not

enough. make up your mind. paint it until

it starts looking like all the other brains,

pink and grey and white and wrinkled flesh,

dopamine and serotonin and chemicals that

make me feel something. make me feel something.

my face is painted to look angry. sad. happy.

i didn't check today. i didn't capitalize my i. or

cross my t. now i am stomach tightening, breathe

fast and slow and nonexistent. heartbeat the same.

now i am cold. dark. sightless and soundless. everything

and nothing and something, once upon a time.

but no longer. now i'm

i think i need jardiance

or skyrizi

i can't get the fuckin jingles

out of my head

i wake up singing

i take once-daily jariance

at each day's start

and i like it

i fucking like it

they say he'll topple democracy

unless a porn star topples him

he's gonna free all those bad guys

if he's president

he says they're hostages

the other guy's just gonna die

and then she'll be president

and no one likes her

she does laugh too much

nothing is everything

it might make me commit suicide

or give me suicidal ideation

someone else could kill me too

like a well regulated militia

who hasn't had any pussy

and std's are rampant too

that's my real plan

or someone'll carjack me

and i'll try to fight back

the migrants are gonna

take my job anyway

or maybe i'll get laid off

due to ageism

and then i'll join a class action lawsuit

for nothing

or ai might make me obsolete

i'd like to kill an ai

i hope i don't get dupuytren's contracture

noninvasive treatment but still

does it matter any more

if i live in a flood plain

if a year's worth of rain

falls in a day?

fuck

i think my testicles are shrinking

there is nothi(l)ng there is nothing there is nothing the(o)re is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there (o)is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is (o)nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothin(b)g there is(e) nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is no(h)thing there is(i) nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is(n) nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing th(d)ere is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing there is nothing why fucking bother why fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking both(y)erwhy fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking bot(o)herwhy fucking botherwhy fucking botherwhy fucking bother it is pointless it is pointlessit is pointlessit is pointlessit is pointlessit is pointless it is pointlessit is pointlessit is point(u)lessit is pointless

We like to believe that in our modern world of advanced medicine, technology and security, we have tamed the dangers that once plagued humanity. Plagues, natural disasters, violence - we have systems and infrastructure in place to protect ourselves and mitigate these risks as much as possible. But what if there is an insidious threat lurking, even more pervasive and harder to defend against than anything we've faced before? A threat hiding in plain sight, impacting us on a biological level in ways we don't fully understand yet; I'm referring to the impacts of the invisible ocean of electromagnetic radiation that we are constantly swimming in.

Most of us don't even think about it, but we are surrounded by an unprecedented level of electromagnetic field (EMF) radiation. The primary components are radiofrequency (RF) radiation from wireless communications and extremely low frequency (ELF) radiation from our vast electricity grid and electronics. These are types of non-ionizing radiation that have fundamentally different properties and health impacts than more well-known ionizing radiation like x-rays and gamma rays.

While these forms of EMF radiation are deemed too weak to directly break chemical bonds in our cells like ionizing radiation, a growing body of evidence suggests they can still have profound impacts on biological systems in other ways. And because it is virtually impossible to avoid exposure in our modern environment, we are all part of an uncontrolled experiment on a massive scale.

The sheer ubiquity of the exposure is one factor that makes this threat so worrying and difficult to study. But there is also the basic physics of how EMFs interact with the core operating principles of our cells and bodies. We are essentially conductive systems of ions, proteins, and other molecules regulated by exquisitely calibrated electrical charges and currents. Our cells require this delicate electrical choreography to function properly, from transporting molecules across membranes to replicating DNA. It doesn't strain credulity to think that bombarding these electrically-sensitive processes with artificial oscillating EMFs could cause disruptions and biological chaos.

In fact, a wide variety of effects have been observed in cellular and animal studies when exposed to EMFs in certain frequency ranges and intensities. These include oxidative stress, damaged cell membranes, impaired nutrient metabolism, disrupted brain activity, and reduced sperm quality. And these are just some of the effects identified so far - we still have much to learn about how our biology can be impacted in more insidious ways.

Of particular concern are impacts on DNA, which some studies suggest can occur through different pathways from EMF exposure. DNA damage and mutations that go un-repaired can potentially lead to cancer initiation, accelerated aging, and harmful generational effects. While the evidence is still evolving, the implications of cumulative DNA damage over a full lifetime of EMF exposure are highly concerning from a public health perspective.

Beyond direct impacts in our cellular biology, there are also effects of EMFs on bacteria, fungi, and the microbiomes that govern so many processes in our bodies and environment. Our resident microbes are just as electrically active as our own cells and susceptible to radiation impacts. This is one of the key mechanisms through which wireless radiation has been shown to cause colony collapse disorder in bees - by disrupting their bacterial navigation systems.

In humans, dysbiosis in the gut microbiome caused by EMFs may be a critical factor contributing to everything from metabolic and autoimmune disorders to neurological conditions. With the microbiome being so intricately linked to overall health, imbalances caused by EMF disruption could manifest in a whole spectrum of disease processes. And yet our modern communications infrastructure and wireless society continues to expand, bathing us in more pervasive artificial EMFs all the time.

The potential societal impacts of EMFs go beyond direct health effects. Some concerning evidence suggests these exposures may be negatively impacting cognition, behavior, reproduction and development in ways that have not been fully accounted for yet. Could the dramatic rise in conditions like ADHD, autism, and infertility have components linked to our EMF exposures? And what are the mental health impacts of being so immersed in artificial electromagnetic signaling that our ancestors' biology could have never adapted to?

There are certainly still many unknowns, but the implications are staggering enough that we can't remain commplacent. Just as we have rigorous safety standards for other environmental exposures like air and water quality, shouldn't we be applying a higher level of precaution to this form of pervasive radiation? Especially considering how difficult it is to conduct long-term studies controlling for confounding exposures in our modern world. We may already be observing some initial public health effects, while the graver generational impacts could still be latent.

At the very least, we should be advocating for more research funding on potential EMF impacts, as well as policy changes to implement stronger precautionary principles. Things like minimizing unnecessary EMF exposures, favoring wired rather than wireless technologies, and protecting kids whose developing bodies may be most vulnerable. Proven mitigations like shielding should also be considered for high exposure environments like schools and hospitals.

Regardless of our own personal perspectives, it's crucial that we elevate this issue so that individuals can make informed decisions about their exposures. To not take this threat seriously and act with prudent caution risks playing a game of biological roulette with our health and the future of humanity. The consequences of complacency may end up being one of the greatest existential tragedies of our technological renaissance.