Paradigm

Paradigm is the map of the nights. Not a mood board, not a mind map you have to curate, not a graph of every word you used. Each journal is a pin. The origin sits at the center — the in.between mark, rings out, the place the nights are measured from. Threads are the lines between nights that belong together. You come here when you want to see the shape of the thing, not the sentences.

Moving the board

Drag empty space to pan. Scroll or pinch to zoom. The board is infinite; you cannot fall off it. If you get lost, zoom out until the origin is in view and work back from there. Pins you have not touched sit where the nights placed them. Drag a pin if you want it somewhere else — a cluster of kitchen nights pulled to one side, a one-off off on its own. Once you move a pin, it stays where you put it. The board will not yank it back.

Click is not drag. A click (no movement) opens the night. A drag repositions it. If you meant to open one and the gutter did not appear, you probably moved a pixel — let go and click again without sliding. On a trackpad, two-finger scroll zooms or pans depending on how the board is listening; if the pins get huge, zoom out. If they vanish, you are too far out or panned off the cluster — find the origin.

A pin's reading

Click a pin and the right gutter opens, the same kind of chrome as Tracking's day gutter. This one is a reading of the night on the board: how strongly it pulls on the others (faint, light, marked, strong, dense), a summary, a longer detail of how this night sits with the rest — sequence, parallels, a person who returns — then clues, people, places, weather, spiritual, feelings, the emotion of it, and the journals it belongs to. Open a journal from that list and you are back in the thread.

The score is not a grade. Faint means few threads leave this night. Dense means many nights fold back into this one. A quiet one-off can be faint and still be the night you needed to write. A recurring house will usually read heavier because the board has somewhere to attach it. Do not chase a dense score. Chase the image.

Parallel rows in the gutter can select another pin. Follow them. That is how you walk a thread without closing the map. Escape closes the gutter. A click on empty space does too. Closing the gutter does not move the camera; you are still looking at the same cluster.

Threads

Threads are lines behind the pins. They connect journals by chronology, and they draw extra lines when a person returns — not a complete web of every shared kitchen, not a mesh of every night that mentioned water. If two nights belong together, there is a line. If they do not, there is not. The reason for a thread sits in the reading: sequence, a return, a parallel. You do not draw them by hand. You also cannot delete them. They are the nights talking to each other, not a diagram you have to maintain.

Pins appear as journals exist. A brand new house with one fragment will look sparse. That is correct. Write three more nights in the same rooms and the cluster will be there when you come back. Paradigm is slow on purpose. It is a map of what you kept, not a promise of what you will keep.