Grimnir Cryogenic Enterprises, the sign read.
"I can't believe I'm doing this." As he strode into the reception hall, he saw a mural on the floor, depicting a gigantic tree with a figure hanging on it upside down and the words "9 Days" was depicted prominently on the top of the tree.
"Yes sir, how may we help you?" The receptionist asked.
"I, uh, have an appointment. I'm Mr. Boundsmen and I'm entering cryo."
"Of course, sir. Please head to Cryo Room 9."
When he entered the chamber and prepared to sleep, a drifting image of rest and an apple on a tree passed through his mind. It seemed to him that so many people nowadays went into cryogenics. He wondered why he was doing it. Maybe he should have taken it slowly. Maybe he should have reconsidered. He started having doubts. Maybe he shouldn't have done this. Maybe he should cancel it. He started struggling against his icy restraints which now seemed threatening and intimidating. Maybe he-
His world went dark and cold.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
The Strength (11)
"Class, now everyone is made unique and special....."
The teacher kept droning on and on about how everyone had their own strengths. As Ulysses laid his head on his desk, all he could think of was that everyone had their own weaknesses, some more so than others. It was very surprising to him that people did not realise the other half of the statement that everyone had their own strengths. Weakness, is very powerful. When you know someone's weakness, you effectively have him or her in your power. When you exploit that weakness, you humiliate the person further. Everyone's strengths were outweighed by their weaknesses. Except himself, of course. He knew for a fact that he was arrogant. This knowledge gave him the ability to prevent others from exploiting it. Ulysses knew peoples' weaknesses, it was easy to tell.
It was so ironic, that a strength is weaker than a weakness. Never forget, always remember, there is no strength stronger than your weakness. Impurities in metal make them weak. When purified, gold gets weaker. Never underestimate the power of someone's weakness, or the lack of power of a strength. Hate, commonly seen as a weakness, can be useful if employed properly. Hate gives strength. Impure strength to be sure, but powerful strength nonetheless. Such an oxymoron. Ulysses thought no more about it and descended into the dream-world of Morpheus.
The teacher kept droning on and on about how everyone had their own strengths. As Ulysses laid his head on his desk, all he could think of was that everyone had their own weaknesses, some more so than others. It was very surprising to him that people did not realise the other half of the statement that everyone had their own strengths. Weakness, is very powerful. When you know someone's weakness, you effectively have him or her in your power. When you exploit that weakness, you humiliate the person further. Everyone's strengths were outweighed by their weaknesses. Except himself, of course. He knew for a fact that he was arrogant. This knowledge gave him the ability to prevent others from exploiting it. Ulysses knew peoples' weaknesses, it was easy to tell.
It was so ironic, that a strength is weaker than a weakness. Never forget, always remember, there is no strength stronger than your weakness. Impurities in metal make them weak. When purified, gold gets weaker. Never underestimate the power of someone's weakness, or the lack of power of a strength. Hate, commonly seen as a weakness, can be useful if employed properly. Hate gives strength. Impure strength to be sure, but powerful strength nonetheless. Such an oxymoron. Ulysses thought no more about it and descended into the dream-world of Morpheus.
The Wheel Of Fortune (10)
The surroundings are hot, so hot that they scald the skin with no physical contact on surfaces. It is glamourous, full of blazing, terrifyingly pure gold. The whole mechanical clockwork quality of the gears makes it cold and impersonal, even though it blazes and flares constantly. Rivers of molten gold flow,and the fallen Plutus stands with an unholy benediction on whomsoever would have it.
"You know my friend, greed is a terrible thing."
"Indeed. Greed is a twin-headed beast, one head spends without a care, the other hoards like a miser. Ah, civilisation, you cruel beast. What have you done to the pure hearts of men?"
The second man was a tall and lanky person with a hood and a cloak. His features were not visible, but his posture displayed an inherent contempt for that which he saw. The first was a woman, similarly dressed, but with her hood pulled down. Her eyes were bright and sharp; a stunning gray that seemed to change and switch throughout the spectrum as she moved. Her hair was long and a dark violet, dark enough to be mistaken for black or dark blue. She had a sharp nose with a small mouth that always seemed to be on the verge of smiling.
"Raewyn?" The man enquired, "What's it like with Libys?"
"He's fine, tends to want me to be on the wrong side of the law, as usual."
"And what do you say to that?"
"I follow his advice. Well, sometimes, at any rate. He does get a bit ludicrous."
"You know my friend, greed is a terrible thing."
"Indeed. Greed is a twin-headed beast, one head spends without a care, the other hoards like a miser. Ah, civilisation, you cruel beast. What have you done to the pure hearts of men?"
The second man was a tall and lanky person with a hood and a cloak. His features were not visible, but his posture displayed an inherent contempt for that which he saw. The first was a woman, similarly dressed, but with her hood pulled down. Her eyes were bright and sharp; a stunning gray that seemed to change and switch throughout the spectrum as she moved. Her hair was long and a dark violet, dark enough to be mistaken for black or dark blue. She had a sharp nose with a small mouth that always seemed to be on the verge of smiling.
"Raewyn?" The man enquired, "What's it like with Libys?"
"He's fine, tends to want me to be on the wrong side of the law, as usual."
"And what do you say to that?"
"I follow his advice. Well, sometimes, at any rate. He does get a bit ludicrous."
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
The Hermit (9)
"A Little Sister? Where's the Big Daddy?"
"I don't know, but you keep a lookout for-"
"And let you get all the ADAM? No way."
"Ugh, fine. We'd better get her before the Daddy gets here."
The two splicers advanced upon the little girl. The little girl was clad in a girlish and dollish dress, with a bow upon her head. She carried her needle almost as tall as her on her right arm. Her eyes had no irises, no pupils, just two large round bright yellow orbs.
She whimpered, "Don't hurt me!"
"Now now, we all know what you are, Sister. Your ADAM is ours."
The Sister cried out, "Mr Bubbles!"
And with a furious roar, a Big Daddy charged out at the splicers with a speed which belied his lumbering size. As it charged, you could hear a deep moan, much like whales and its drill spinning up.
"Bloody 'ell! I told you to watch out for him!" The first splicer shouted as he attempted to evade the monstrous steel-bound figure.
The second splicer wasn't so lucky. He was slammed against a wall by the Daddy and was drilled through in an incredibly messy fashion. The splicer screamed in agony as his entire body was ripped to bits.
The surviving splicer took out his gun and started to shoot at the Daddy, but his bullets had no effect as it bounced off his armoured diving suit.
"Shit, shit, shit!" The splicer had a tone of desperation.
With another low groan, the Big Daddy revved up his drill again and charged the splicer.
The splicer followed the same fate as his companion.
"Thank you, Mr B. They've turned into angels now." The Little Sister smiled a beatific, angelic and horrifically innocent smile and walked over to the corpses, the Big Daddy followed in tow. A passer-by might actually believe from her smile that nothing had happened and this made it all the more disturbing, like she did believe that nothing wrong had occured.
The Little Sister started stabbing her needle into the dead splicers and extracted a red liquid that was unlike blood and seemed much brighter.
In Rapture, the hunters get hunted if they're not careful. Isolation to an underwater city does terrible things.
"I don't know, but you keep a lookout for-"
"And let you get all the ADAM? No way."
"Ugh, fine. We'd better get her before the Daddy gets here."
The two splicers advanced upon the little girl. The little girl was clad in a girlish and dollish dress, with a bow upon her head. She carried her needle almost as tall as her on her right arm. Her eyes had no irises, no pupils, just two large round bright yellow orbs.
She whimpered, "Don't hurt me!"
"Now now, we all know what you are, Sister. Your ADAM is ours."
The Sister cried out, "Mr Bubbles!"
And with a furious roar, a Big Daddy charged out at the splicers with a speed which belied his lumbering size. As it charged, you could hear a deep moan, much like whales and its drill spinning up.
"Bloody 'ell! I told you to watch out for him!" The first splicer shouted as he attempted to evade the monstrous steel-bound figure.
The second splicer wasn't so lucky. He was slammed against a wall by the Daddy and was drilled through in an incredibly messy fashion. The splicer screamed in agony as his entire body was ripped to bits.
The surviving splicer took out his gun and started to shoot at the Daddy, but his bullets had no effect as it bounced off his armoured diving suit.
"Shit, shit, shit!" The splicer had a tone of desperation.
With another low groan, the Big Daddy revved up his drill again and charged the splicer.
The splicer followed the same fate as his companion.
"Thank you, Mr B. They've turned into angels now." The Little Sister smiled a beatific, angelic and horrifically innocent smile and walked over to the corpses, the Big Daddy followed in tow. A passer-by might actually believe from her smile that nothing had happened and this made it all the more disturbing, like she did believe that nothing wrong had occured.
The Little Sister started stabbing her needle into the dead splicers and extracted a red liquid that was unlike blood and seemed much brighter.
In Rapture, the hunters get hunted if they're not careful. Isolation to an underwater city does terrible things.
Monday, June 14, 2010
The Justice (8)
Justice's reach is long and far, not much can escape Justice. The reach of the law is supposedly far, but why are there so many innocents out there feeling the heat of corruption? A flitter here, a thunderstorm there, it's like chaos theory. Impartiality. Does it only apply to countries like ours? Seems like its missing in third-world countries to me. How many times have you seen in a movie a corrupt judge in another country? Or corrupt officers? Either way, corruption is more real than you know. It's everywhere. Decay. Everything's decaying. You're decaying. I'm decaying. This world is breaking down. Remember at night when you go to sleep that you're just a lump of decomposing flesh. When you get a husband or wife, sleep together and remember that you're hugging a heap of rotting organic waste. The phrase "Rot in Hell". It's not just in hell. Rot is everywhere. The road you walk on, the bed you sleep in. The computer you use to read this. Rot, rot, rot. Death and decay will come, sooner or later. Inevitable.
Friday, June 11, 2010
The Chariot (7)
Why does the shadow follow the light? Black sphinx, white sphinx, same difference. Both still ask you the same question with the same answer. Why do horses stay so still, even though they can move at great speeds? Black man, white man, it's all bigotry. No meaning. Meaningless. Same difference. Pitching and yawing, isn't it? X-axis, Y-axis, they're both parts of graphs, aren't they? It's all very much about dualism, huh? Very deep. Move quick, don't miss a beat, quick stop, don't fall. Power under control. Extreme control. Move a toe while keeping the rest of your body still.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
The Lovers (6)
And so came the fallen angle, neither obtuse nor acute, but something more. Or was it something less? The fallen angle felt something. Curiosity. Although the angle did not know what it was at first. It wondered about things. Sometimes... At other times, desire. But what for? Strangely enough, it felt a curiosity about desire, and a desire to be curious. Very circular. It wondered once in a while about that too. The angle saw many things, and knew much. But it just kept looking, what for it did not know. Love? Maybe. Trust? Possibly. Lust? Could be. Friendship? Might be. It did not know.
It still does not know. It still searches. It searches inside the hearts of humans, in the shells of snails, in furnaces, in places where you would never expect to see a fallen angle. Meaning, everywhere, 'cause I'd bet you would never expect a fallen angle at all, would you? Maybe one day, it will find what it is looking for. Maybe it won't. Maybe you'll see it searching your life. Maybe. Strange be the ways of angles, more so an angler fish. It's consciousness at high noon, blazing, burning, still searching, and yet ever tender.
Have you experienced it before? This upsurge of life, a desire to know, a rush of exhilaration, a burst of adrenaline. I believe they called it "Love". But what I want to know is who's they?
It still does not know. It still searches. It searches inside the hearts of humans, in the shells of snails, in furnaces, in places where you would never expect to see a fallen angle. Meaning, everywhere, 'cause I'd bet you would never expect a fallen angle at all, would you? Maybe one day, it will find what it is looking for. Maybe it won't. Maybe you'll see it searching your life. Maybe. Strange be the ways of angles, more so an angler fish. It's consciousness at high noon, blazing, burning, still searching, and yet ever tender.
Have you experienced it before? This upsurge of life, a desire to know, a rush of exhilaration, a burst of adrenaline. I believe they called it "Love". But what I want to know is who's they?
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
The Hierophant (5)
Popular. That's what all those kids out there in secondary school think. Appearances. Fashion. Conformity. Cognitive resonance, not dissonance. Aesop's Fox and the Sour Grapes. Remember? Old story. But one that applies. All of them trying to fit in, with their magazines, boy bands, girl bands and such meaningless things. Ever wondered how it all began, this desire for lesser cognitive dissonance?
No one is ever original nowadays. One person says that he enjoys a song, and the other person will just say that he enjoyed it too, for he does not want to be labeled, "different" or "weirdo". And then, everyone picks it up, just because everyone else enjoys it too. Where has creativity gone? Out to lunch, I hope, for then he may return soon. Yet, you must remember, time is an illusion, lunchtime doubly so. So find your spark of creativity today, and not be like all those mindless zombies out there. Trigger your synapses, engage your senses. No, I'm not saying to try drugs.
Just don't do something because everyone else is also doing it. Play some music that you've always liked but never dared to say so because no one else has ever heard of it. Don't be afraid. Write witty things, draw cool things if you're artsy-fartsy, just not "cool" as defined by fashion nowadays. Never let the masses tell you what's "in" and what's "out", follow your own likes and dislikes. Play Tetris, play Pac-man, have the time of your life with reading, and don't let them call you a "nerd", 'cause that's a derogatory term. Geek is so much nicer. Whistle self-made tunes, and don't let anyone get you down because they find it abnormal. Accept feedback, constructive feedback, but don't ever let someone just go straight to your face and start hating it because it's "out".
Don't stick to old definitions or pronounce words wrongly because everyone pronounces it that way. Or you could be weird and pronounce things your way. Make new borders. Explore your life, see what's missing, get a pet rock, pretend to have sub-personalities for fun, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you hold on to you, yourself, your consciousness, your individuality, what makes you you. I admit, I have been guilty of this before and I'm not saying to hate anything that anyone else likes, I'm saying to have your own taste. This may sound just like an advertisement, but I'm telling you, Reject False Icons.
No one is ever original nowadays. One person says that he enjoys a song, and the other person will just say that he enjoyed it too, for he does not want to be labeled, "different" or "weirdo". And then, everyone picks it up, just because everyone else enjoys it too. Where has creativity gone? Out to lunch, I hope, for then he may return soon. Yet, you must remember, time is an illusion, lunchtime doubly so. So find your spark of creativity today, and not be like all those mindless zombies out there. Trigger your synapses, engage your senses. No, I'm not saying to try drugs.
Just don't do something because everyone else is also doing it. Play some music that you've always liked but never dared to say so because no one else has ever heard of it. Don't be afraid. Write witty things, draw cool things if you're artsy-fartsy, just not "cool" as defined by fashion nowadays. Never let the masses tell you what's "in" and what's "out", follow your own likes and dislikes. Play Tetris, play Pac-man, have the time of your life with reading, and don't let them call you a "nerd", 'cause that's a derogatory term. Geek is so much nicer. Whistle self-made tunes, and don't let anyone get you down because they find it abnormal. Accept feedback, constructive feedback, but don't ever let someone just go straight to your face and start hating it because it's "out".
Don't stick to old definitions or pronounce words wrongly because everyone pronounces it that way. Or you could be weird and pronounce things your way. Make new borders. Explore your life, see what's missing, get a pet rock, pretend to have sub-personalities for fun, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you hold on to you, yourself, your consciousness, your individuality, what makes you you. I admit, I have been guilty of this before and I'm not saying to hate anything that anyone else likes, I'm saying to have your own taste. This may sound just like an advertisement, but I'm telling you, Reject False Icons.
The Emperor (4)
"Move along now, slave! Your flesh is not fit for even the lowliest of hounds to chew!"
The slave was whipped and struggled to redouble its pace. It carried a jug, seemingly heavy and filled to its brim with something. The slave's hands were blistering and were a bright, sore red. The jug must obviously have been extremely hot, and the slave trudged towards a fountain filled not with water, but blazing, boiling blood. As it poured the blood into the fountain, a thing appeared from the fountain. Something horrific. It's features were vaguely amphibian, and was reminiscent of fishes. It's face was pointed, with no nose and its mouth opened to reveal impossibly sharp teeth in its dreadful visage. Its body was hidden under the blood, to the relief of the slave. The slave, recognising it, quickly bowed down and kowtowed to it.
"Begone, vermin." The creature hissed, spitting scalding blood at the slave. The slave hurriedly scuttered away, leaving the creature behind with a stranger whom he had never seen before. The stranger seemed covered in bandages, yet did not seem wholly real.
"See, power is to be taken and not given. If you move along blindly, someone else will lead. If you lead, the rest will blindly follow. Power is what matters here on Arcaz Du, not money, not looks, not anything else."
The stranger kept quiet, content to listen to the creature's ramblings.
The slave was whipped and struggled to redouble its pace. It carried a jug, seemingly heavy and filled to its brim with something. The slave's hands were blistering and were a bright, sore red. The jug must obviously have been extremely hot, and the slave trudged towards a fountain filled not with water, but blazing, boiling blood. As it poured the blood into the fountain, a thing appeared from the fountain. Something horrific. It's features were vaguely amphibian, and was reminiscent of fishes. It's face was pointed, with no nose and its mouth opened to reveal impossibly sharp teeth in its dreadful visage. Its body was hidden under the blood, to the relief of the slave. The slave, recognising it, quickly bowed down and kowtowed to it.
"Begone, vermin." The creature hissed, spitting scalding blood at the slave. The slave hurriedly scuttered away, leaving the creature behind with a stranger whom he had never seen before. The stranger seemed covered in bandages, yet did not seem wholly real.
"See, power is to be taken and not given. If you move along blindly, someone else will lead. If you lead, the rest will blindly follow. Power is what matters here on Arcaz Du, not money, not looks, not anything else."
The stranger kept quiet, content to listen to the creature's ramblings.
Monday, June 7, 2010
The Empress (3)
An intricate chessboard lay on a wooden board, its pieces positioned as though about to play a game. The pieces were carved with exquisite runes and sigils, giving them a mystical feel to them. The pawn held not a sword or any weapon, but rather carried an olive branch in his hand. The rook was literally a bird, just not a rook but rather, a dove. The knights were on horses with riding equipment. None of the pieces carried weapons.
The queen was particularly masterful, and caught peoples' eyes. The queen was pregnant, not bloated and disgusting, but peaceful and gave out an aura of contentment. The queen's hands did not hold their customary sword, but gripped her stomach lightly. The queen was smilling, and seemed to contain within her spring. All who saw it suddenly knew why the old adage was constantly stated, that patience is a virtue.
The king extended a hand towards his wife, lovingly and tenderly. His sword was replaced by a book entitled in small but beautiful words, Friendship. The bishop looked benevolent, and seemed to counsel the pawns on the virtues of peace. All in all, the set removed all war-like aspects of chess and replaced it with contentment, as if the two nations of black pieces and white pieces were close friends.
The queen was particularly masterful, and caught peoples' eyes. The queen was pregnant, not bloated and disgusting, but peaceful and gave out an aura of contentment. The queen's hands did not hold their customary sword, but gripped her stomach lightly. The queen was smilling, and seemed to contain within her spring. All who saw it suddenly knew why the old adage was constantly stated, that patience is a virtue.
The king extended a hand towards his wife, lovingly and tenderly. His sword was replaced by a book entitled in small but beautiful words, Friendship. The bishop looked benevolent, and seemed to counsel the pawns on the virtues of peace. All in all, the set removed all war-like aspects of chess and replaced it with contentment, as if the two nations of black pieces and white pieces were close friends.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
The High Priestess (2)
And so the pilgrim went on his way, wondering what Gilgamesh might have been talking about. He pondered long and hard on the meaning of the sword and pentacle but all in vain. Days passed and he came to Delphi by night. He went straight to the Oracle, the oh-so famous Oracle of Delphi, in the hopes of understanding. And experience, of course. The Oracle was female, sitting in between two pillars and was illuminated by the lunar light, as if she represented the moon, just as Gilgamesh seemed to represent the Sun.
"Hello, pilgrim." She said.
"You know me, Oracle?"
"Of course. I know much about you. I know that you met Mr. Phthalo, went to Gilgamesh and you now come here."
"Since you know so much, then you know why I'm here. What exactly am I supposed to do with this sword and pentacle?"
"I have prepared certain things for you. Take this root and gnaw it. It will help you make a choice."
"I am very grateful to you, lady Oracle."
So saying, he gnawed at the root. He had a vision, but the contents of that vision will not be discussed here.
"Thank you, Oracle. I now know what to do."
With a clear vision of what to do, the pilgrim walks off and continues on his journey.
"Hello, pilgrim." She said.
"You know me, Oracle?"
"Of course. I know much about you. I know that you met Mr. Phthalo, went to Gilgamesh and you now come here."
"Since you know so much, then you know why I'm here. What exactly am I supposed to do with this sword and pentacle?"
"I have prepared certain things for you. Take this root and gnaw it. It will help you make a choice."
"I am very grateful to you, lady Oracle."
So saying, he gnawed at the root. He had a vision, but the contents of that vision will not be discussed here.
"Thank you, Oracle. I now know what to do."
With a clear vision of what to do, the pilgrim walks off and continues on his journey.
The Magician (1)
"Excuse me sir, but are you the one known as Gilgamesh?"
The one to whom the question was directed to seemed full of brightness and light, like power to unveil secrets. He seemed to embody the Sun.
The stranger replied, "I may be. What would it matter to you?"
"You see, I seek personification."
"Personification? Ah, you mean eternal existence. Immortality, so to speak."
"Indeed. The tales tell of Gilgamesh who taught the snakes to shed their skin, and so become immortal. I-"
"You wish to learn how to shed your skin?"
"Uh, I suppose so. In a sense."
"Firstly, as above, so below."
"What?"
"Always remember, that lessons learned in one realm are dangerous if applied in another realm."
"Truly, you are wise, great sir. But I do not underst-"
"No, you do not, for that is why you seek me. Do not hold back. Now go, your journey is long and full of wisdom. There will always be those who seek to manipulate. Take this sword and pentacle."
With that, snakes appeared from his sleeves and covered Gilgamesh completely. Then, he vanished. But the man heard a whisper in the air, "Know your fundamentals".
The one to whom the question was directed to seemed full of brightness and light, like power to unveil secrets. He seemed to embody the Sun.
The stranger replied, "I may be. What would it matter to you?"
"You see, I seek personification."
"Personification? Ah, you mean eternal existence. Immortality, so to speak."
"Indeed. The tales tell of Gilgamesh who taught the snakes to shed their skin, and so become immortal. I-"
"You wish to learn how to shed your skin?"
"Uh, I suppose so. In a sense."
"Firstly, as above, so below."
"What?"
"Always remember, that lessons learned in one realm are dangerous if applied in another realm."
"Truly, you are wise, great sir. But I do not underst-"
"No, you do not, for that is why you seek me. Do not hold back. Now go, your journey is long and full of wisdom. There will always be those who seek to manipulate. Take this sword and pentacle."
With that, snakes appeared from his sleeves and covered Gilgamesh completely. Then, he vanished. But the man heard a whisper in the air, "Know your fundamentals".
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
The Fool (0)
A man was walking, an unkempt, dirty, ragged, vagrant-looking vaguely old sort of man was walking. With a dog behind him. He carried naught but a stick with a bundle tied to its end. He looked rather carefree and happy.
Mr. Phthalo approached him.
"Good sir, who might you be and where would you be going?" He started.
"I might be a swallow. I go to where I go, for I am a pilgrim."
"A pilgrim, you say? Where to?"
"I am a pilgrim on a journey for experience, for delight and for no particular reason at all. I go where I please." said the man who might be a swallow and was definitely a pilgrim.
The dog following him nipped his heels.
"Ah, but the Lord is getting impatient. Let's get along now then?"
"The Lord? So you're a Christian?"
"That is what I call my dog, you see."
The pilgrim walked along the edge of the cliff, cheerfully whistling without a care in the world.
Mr. Phthalo approached him.
"Good sir, who might you be and where would you be going?" He started.
"I might be a swallow. I go to where I go, for I am a pilgrim."
"A pilgrim, you say? Where to?"
"I am a pilgrim on a journey for experience, for delight and for no particular reason at all. I go where I please." said the man who might be a swallow and was definitely a pilgrim.
The dog following him nipped his heels.
"Ah, but the Lord is getting impatient. Let's get along now then?"
"The Lord? So you're a Christian?"
"That is what I call my dog, you see."
The pilgrim walked along the edge of the cliff, cheerfully whistling without a care in the world.
just a notice
heyho readers,
i can't believe this blog survived for give or take 3 months. a hiatus is in order! maybe when i get back to writing i'll have lots of random shizz to write about, ya'know? so for now, toodle-do!
PS: the holidays make me sad, its v depressing
Pie Jesu Domine,
Dona Eis Requiem.
Fighting with writer's block,
Li-Jun
*anything below this is written a bit after the original post*
AHahahahAHHahahAH! Who am I kidding! A hiatus? who neEds it? I wilL wriTe As anD wHen i wANt!!!11 wheee. I shall prove that I can churn out creaTivity by deadlines! I wiLL write 22 short stories based on each of the MAJOR ARCANA !!!!!!! it will be in order! numerical OrdEr!!1
i can't believe this blog survived for give or take 3 months. a hiatus is in order! maybe when i get back to writing i'll have lots of random shizz to write about, ya'know? so for now, toodle-do!
PS: the holidays make me sad, its v depressing
Pie Jesu Domine,
Dona Eis Requiem.
Fighting with writer's block,
Li-Jun
*anything below this is written a bit after the original post*
AHahahahAHHahahAH! Who am I kidding! A hiatus? who neEds it? I wilL wriTe As anD wHen i wANt!!!11 wheee. I shall prove that I can churn out creaTivity by deadlines! I wiLL write 22 short stories based on each of the MAJOR ARCANA !!!!!!! it will be in order! numerical OrdEr!!1
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