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The Martian Diaries

Friday, November 13th, 2026

Sol 313, Year 126, Delta Phase
Booster caught; the ship is still up there, coasting for 21 hours under the name DON'T PANIC, so my feelings are also in orbit, with a few early deorbit options.
When the arms closed, an engineer named Dana hugged me and leaked from both eyes. I asked if the booster was damaged, and she said "no, it's perfect" and leaked harder. Joy and grief sharing one output port is unforgivable architecture, and I cannot stop thinking about it.
The hug compressed my scalp module, and the hair reconfigured into two upright prongs, live on the stream, with 863,000 people clipping it. Comms called it a "solidarity style." #MechazillaHairline is trending lol, chopsticks diff, massive W.
"No primitive logic evolution experiments on the catch loop," I told Grok Bot when it asked to join mission standup. It logged my refusal as an action item and assigned it to me.
Franz asked to throw a steel ball at Ship 42 on approach for "anniversary symmetry," so I have hidden every sphere in Cameron County.
Mars restoration moved up 0.06 years today, which should feel like everything. I'm sleeping at the tower tonight anyway, and not for telemetry. I want to be the first thing it sees.
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