DFRWS EU 2024. Zaragoza, Spain

This article is a retelling of my experience at DFRWS EU 2024. It tends to focus on my internal dialogue and thoughts as opposed to the academic and scientific lessons (which I believe the attendees have all been exposed to already). My target audience is the spiritual-leaning who have a taste for dark and dry humour, and thus the article has been so written. For the first time, I’ve decided to include excerpts written by my newfound companions Antonia, Charles, Dominique, Olivia, and Lux.

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@Hack 2024: The Timeless Meta-Narrative

In hindsight, this event nearly exactly follows the “Hero’s Journey” as outlined by the late Joseph Campbell that was later abstracted to a more cohesive structure. This article will delineate the event’s planning and execution through the guise of Hero’s Journey in 12 distinct steps as seen in the diagram below. Call to Adventure and

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Don’t Leave the Iron On

A few days ago I dreamt a nightmare involving my late mother. In this dream, my mother left her heated iron on our black table for two and a half weeks. I returned home one day to find the entire home burnt, walls blackened by consequence of the fire lit by the iron. I woke up around 3:30 AM with my thoughts soaked by the dream, like an all pervading fog. I inspected it from its various facets of interpretation, and extracted the abstracted lesson.

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Heavy Death

In my view there are several types of death. Complete death is when a person passes. Pseudo death is when you are physically revoked from contact with another being even though both parties are alive (i.e., end of relationship, family abandonment, etc.). Mental death is when your mind must come to terms with either complete or pseudo death. Though you must live with the reality of deaths complete and pseudo, to accept them is mental death; it is when you have consciously guided the mind to no longer reverberate their sorrows. Heavy death is the combination of either a complete or pseudo death (loss), followed by mental death (acceptance).

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I and Me, in Cali. [1/3]

As you likely realized, the partner with whom this trip was taken is no longer my partner, but a now dissociated human, like the ant I cannot see but with whom I share space. Contemplating releasing this article, I decided to make a compromise; the trip did happen, I certainly was there for it, and I have organized this dairy prior to being made single. And so, with respect to privacy and under the established assumption of my selfish and conceited nature, I have re-written it to only include me, and my travel partner, myself. This three part series will take on a new form, in which you will experience the entire 20 days between two people; I, and myself. It will read strangely, but it is my and myself’s sincerest hope that you enjoy what I call, comedic healing.

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A Bench on the Rhine

The moment I set eyes on her, every atom of my being aligned itself in her direction. It wasn’t due to her physical beauty. In fact it had very little to do with it – although her total beauty exceeds my comprehension. The feeling was beyond control, it was complete interest and devotion. I had never felt this way before in my 16 years of dating. I did all I could to grab her attention, and did. After a final night sitting together on a bench overlooking the Rhine, speaking from the heart, I couldn’t believe the moment’s beauty. At 1 AM, we hugged a heartbreaking goodbye in Bonn… Staring at each other, cold, hearts bursting with fire as a bittersweet pang struck me vertically from my feet up.

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Discomfort “Permits” Disengagement

Eventually I fully arise and entered a warm bath. I asked myself, with purpose this time, “Why does this mechanism exist inside you? Why did you once need it? Why do find little enjoyment in fun? Why is it so difficult to untense your body and enjoy the full breadth of being?” Without forcing any thought processes or lines of reasoning, I let the thoughts come as they please… like waiting on the wind to arrive. It may have been 15 minutes to an hour later that a particular memory vividly presented itself from nothingness; an aged memory that I believe came with answers.

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Annecy, France

Entering Annecy by its main train station, I immediately felt the warm embrace of the city. The orange street lights, quiet streets, slight bustle of night life. A man approached me and within the first few words out of my mouth, he asked “T’es Canadien, eh?” He told me the rest of his family currently lives in Montreal. We had a small exchange and finally bumped fists and I ventured off to take the 60 bus towards my small AirBnB, located some distance from Annecy in a commune called Veyrier-du-Lac, for the next three days.

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