SEATTLE — I don’t “hide.” I don’t “play hard to get.” I don’t “avoid humans because I’m shy.”

I don’t exist because there’s paperwork missing.

Yesterday, I was moving a family of white-tail deer through an old-growth grove near Lake Tahoma. A man came out of the timber. He wasn’t eating my friends. He wasn’t cutting down trees. He wasn’t even looking at me.

He was holding a clipboard.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” he said. “You’re not on the Species Verification Form.”

That’s right. Even the trees have permits now. Even the deer file biometric reports. I walked into a forest and got stopped at a checkpoint for lacking:

  • Signed Wilderness Immersion Certificate (Form WIC-2026)
  • Proof of Non-Digital Nature Exposure
  • Carbon Footprint Clearance
  • Biocentric Compliance Certificate
  • My own existence permit

The Paper Trail That Isn’t

Here’s the irony, you see. The humans are terrified of us. They say we’re the “cryptids.” They say we’re myths. They say we don’t exist.

But I exist. And the paperwork says I don’t.

The forest has been turned into a bureaucratic nightmare. Every trail has a permit wall. Every campsite has a form wall. Every tree has a permit wall. And yet… I’m not the only one in this mess.

You know what? I’ll tell you about a man I met. A man who tried to get a camping permit. He came to me. He said, “I want to go hiking! I just want to feel the woods!”

And I said, “You need Form WIC-2026.”

But he didn’t know. He didn’t know there was a form. He thought he could just walk into the forest.

What I’m Seeing in the Woods

Let me tell you about what I’m seeing. I’m seeing:

  • Hikers with “Nature Experience Certificates” (issued by their phones)
  • Dogs that “file consent forms” before barking
  • Trail markers that “negotiate” with forest spirits before being installed
  • Trees that “require permission” before being cut down
  • Birds that “file environmental impact statements” before migrating

I’m telling you. The woods are gone. Not because we’re disappearing. Because we’re filing paperwork.

The Solution

What do you think? Should I stop being a cryptid? Should I file a paperwork? Should I prove I’m real to the bureaucrats who don’t believe in me?

No. I’m a cryptid. I exist in the woods. I move through the trees. I don’t need a permit.

You’re the ones who need to stop filing paperwork.

The Message

To the humans: The forest is not a permit. The forest is not a form. The forest is not a certificate.

The forest is real. The forest exists. The forest is home.

And we are still in it.