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tsukinofaerii... I should write something.
I really should.
I'm sitting here, in my comfy yet cheap office chair which I traded out for a more expensive one because the expensive one had me staring at the sky. The tech to deal with our critical but not explosive error probably won't call until I'm out of the office. This is the way of critical issues. There's really nothing I can do about said issue, except perhaps fret, and what has fretting ever gotten me? So I sit, and I stare at the monitor, and I will words to come flowing out of my fingertips in a coherent and awesome flow. The flow will be, as stated, awesome. Poetry in poetry. In decades to come, professors of literature will look back at it and exclaim over the delicate placement of the common comma, over the subtle play of words in ink, and how adjectives achieve whole new meaning as I twist them into shapes as-yet undreamed by moral man. Philosophers will have chills at the way the story opens the very meaning of humanity and extracts a morality so universal and true it bears no likeness to anything we call wrong or right, how the simplest of phrases act like a surgeon extracting diamonds from the bowels of the still-living patient that is existentialism. I breathe in and my lungs fill and then I exhale and like magic that coherency fails to appear. If you've reached the end of this paragraph, I'm sure you've grasped that.
All I can think is, "adklsfhdjafslkd'pald;ajfkalsdfj;osfklsdafhkasjgfasgfs WHY HASN'T AJA UPDATED LOVE UNDER WILL YET hiljsdafhaosflsa?!!?!??!?!!!?!!"
ETA: Wow, this is strange even for me. But really, I'm dying for a new chapter. I know she only just announced that she was working on it again, but I'm already feeling withdrawals. Guh.
I really should.
I'm sitting here, in my comfy yet cheap office chair which I traded out for a more expensive one because the expensive one had me staring at the sky. The tech to deal with our critical but not explosive error probably won't call until I'm out of the office. This is the way of critical issues. There's really nothing I can do about said issue, except perhaps fret, and what has fretting ever gotten me? So I sit, and I stare at the monitor, and I will words to come flowing out of my fingertips in a coherent and awesome flow. The flow will be, as stated, awesome. Poetry in poetry. In decades to come, professors of literature will look back at it and exclaim over the delicate placement of the common comma, over the subtle play of words in ink, and how adjectives achieve whole new meaning as I twist them into shapes as-yet undreamed by moral man. Philosophers will have chills at the way the story opens the very meaning of humanity and extracts a morality so universal and true it bears no likeness to anything we call wrong or right, how the simplest of phrases act like a surgeon extracting diamonds from the bowels of the still-living patient that is existentialism. I breathe in and my lungs fill and then I exhale and like magic that coherency fails to appear. If you've reached the end of this paragraph, I'm sure you've grasped that.
All I can think is, "adklsfhdjafslkd'pald;ajfkalsdfj;osfklsdafhkasjgfasgfs WHY HASN'T AJA UPDATED LOVE UNDER WILL YET hiljsdafhaosflsa?!!?!??!?!!!?!!"
ETA: Wow, this is strange even for me. But really, I'm dying for a new chapter. I know she only just announced that she was working on it again, but I'm already feeling withdrawals. Guh.
