Fun Fact, thats, more or less, something that wealthy people in China and Japan did, they were called “musical floorboards.” Designed to squeak when stood upon. A person could make noise all the way down a corridor.
The residents and servants knew which floorboards made a sound and avoided them. But a burglar, or assassin didn’t. If you heard the creaking of floorboards, you knew danger was coming.
Even better, despite what movies may show, a lot of the old west was founded by Chinese immigrants, so there could have been carpenters around who knew how to make the musical floorboards!
They were also called Nightingale Floors, and looking up to make sure I had the right term, I found they were super clever! They were more than just ill-fit boards or whatever makes floors creak normally, they actually used little metal bars under the boards placed into small holes in the boards to cause the creak.
The best things on the internet are when someone makes a joke and then Miss Frizzle rolls up for an educational adventure.
You aren’t dead, but you’re leaving our friend group.
You aren’t dead but you’ve moved to a different state and now we text twice a year.
You aren’t dead but you blocked me.
You aren’t dead but we stopped talking, not on purpose but so long ago that I wouldn’t even know what to say to you now.
You aren’t dead but you’re a stranger to me now.
You aren’t dead but we lost touch and now I don’t even remember your username.
You aren’t dead but I ended things with you and now we never speak.
You aren’t dead but I still have to grieve you. Whether I’d change it if I could or not, you’re still a presence that I’m used to and now you won’t be there anymore.
And so I grieve.
You aren’t dead (I hope)
But
An OLD Post you did just got Reblogged through my Timeline and I remembered all the EXCELLENT stuff you used to post. Checked your Homepage and last post was dated… Like, a YEAR ago… HOPE you’re doing… Ok… (Grieving)
One day you think: I want to die. And then you think, very quietly, actually I want a coffee. I want a nap. A sandwich. A book. And I want to die turns day by day into I want to go home, I want to walk in the woods, I want to see my friends, I want to sit in the sun. I want a cleaner room, I want a better job, I want to live somewhere else, I want to live.
