The Physicist's Blues
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Diana sat in her room, staring intently at a blank portion of the wall. If her mind's eye could hold an image of the daemon she wanted to form, maybe then, she'd have someone to talk to. Her online friends usually went to bed way before she did, and her mom was at work during the day. Diana’s college courses were all online.

Her room felt suffocating. She was an unintentional recluse, and in desperate need for company.

Separate part of myself, and manifest it, she thought.

“Maybe it’d be easier if I drew it out first,” she said out loud to an empty room, and grabbed a piece of printer paper. She sketched a rough concept, and on the back of the paper she made a mass of sigils and lines that looked like mathematical formulae. She drew a tall bipedal daemon, with a beak-like snout, and antlers. She pinned the piece of paper to the wall. Sitting in front of it, breathing slowly, she gazed at it. She thought of the daemon's form, and her intent making it.

Sometimes I feel like death. Sometimes I feel like not existing. I need someone to talk to, she thought. She quieted her mind, letting thoughts flow and pass without dwelling on them.

Over the course of the next few months, during the lonely lulls, she sat in front of the paper. Early, one morning, during the witching hour, the graphite on the paper appeared to hover a few centimeters from the page. The air shimmered like heat from pavement. Diana didn't hold her breath, Diana didn’t jolt with surprise, Diana continued to focus on her breathing. This was exactly what needed to happen, even though she had never experienced it before.

Diana had a knack for drawing things that elicited intense emotions in people. Although, it took a lot of energy out of her. When she was younger, she drew a simple smiley face that her mom put on the fridge. Her mom had been so proud of Diana, overly joyful. At the time Diana didn't think much of it. In hindsight she realised if the observer looked at it for more than a few seconds, they would weep with joy. After a month, the observed effect wore off, and it became a simple drawing of a smiley face.

One time, after her parents had split up, and filed for divorce, she drew a picture of the family in front of their apartment. After drawing the picture, she was incredibly tired and came down with a bad case of the flu. Diana had been bedridden for a week, and missed one of her finals. When her mom observed the picture, she was immediately overcome with remorse and canceled her divorce filing. She called her husband and apologised for fighting with him. They made up, although a few years later they filed for divorce again.

Diana's pictures had a half-life.

As Diana got older, she noticed that her art when drawn with focus and intent, was able to bend reality. In high school she became fascinated with physics. If physics describes the language of the universe, could I use it to hone my ability to bend it?

Day after day, the drawing of the daemon grew more detailed, and “in focus”. The daemon grew from the inside out; skeleton, nervous system, cardio system, etc etc. It’s scales were blue, no? They were teal. She was getting increasingly tired as she focused on bringing the thoughtform into the world. When the daemon manifested in full, it stepped forward from the air it stood on. It towered over Diana at two meters.

“Hello friend,” she said to it.

“Hello friend,” it responded back.

“My name is Diana, and your name is Blues.”

“Your name is Diana, and my name is Blues.”

“Excellent,” she yawned, “I’m excited you're here."

Blues stood in place, watching her. She looked into it's eyes. Internally she thought, Did I succeed with my intent? It's eyes are cold, and off-putting. Not at all warm and friendly as I had imagined. Did I imagine it? She yawned.

"Blues, tomorrow I would like to show you an essay I'm working on for my Art History class. My major is in Physics, but I love art-"

Blues stated coldly, "That won't be necessary."

Taken a back, Diana asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You won't finish the essay."

"How would you know that, you haven't even read it? Also that's insulting Blues, you were just created!" she snapped.

Blues stood like a statue.

Diana pinched the bridge of her nose, assuming Blues was crabby she asked, “I suppose you might need sleep too?”

“I suppose I should sleep,” Blues monotonously repeated.

“Ok, hang on,” she went to her messy closet and pulled out a sleeping bag. She unrolled it, and grabbed an extra pillow from her bed, “You can sleep here. We’ll figure out what to do in the morning, or errrr,” she looked at the clock, “later in the morning.”

It stood motionless, it's cold eyes boring into her for a few seconds. It nodded, and then crawled into the sleeping bag.

She let out a big yawn, “Goodnight Blues."

“Goodnight Diana,” it replied.

After roughly twenty minutes, comfortably in her bed, Diana fell asleep. Blues quietly got out of it's sleeping bag, and grabbed it's pillow. Standing at the head of the bed, it towered over her as she soundly slept.

"Goodnight Diana."


In the noosphere, Blues sat upright in bed from a nightmare it had about suffocating a human woman. Covered in beads of sweat, Blues calmed themself down, and tried to get back to sleep.

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