When Packs Break and the Self is Adrift
In a backlash against various cumulative strikes to the Self, some picked-at scabs of insecurities, and some necessary truth speaking: I have been obstinate, I have been cruel, and I have been shortsighted. Combined with the concurrent, tremendous pain threading through my broken, make-shift pack, and a distasteful, pervasive dissatisfaction with the (in)human condition, and I have just pushed myself further than was strictly wise or necessary down the precipice of social obfuscate.
Character will be down for psychic repair for a time. This cycle of vice is a festering poison if not isolated, cut out, peered at curiously, and finally re-wrought or destroyed.
It's an Elodoth moon tonight.
Wisdom?
Train of Thought.
The Moon is a Harsh Mistress.
Character will be down for psychic repair for a time. This cycle of vice is a festering poison if not isolated, cut out, peered at curiously, and finally re-wrought or destroyed.
It's an Elodoth moon tonight.
Wisdom?
Train of Thought.
The Moon is a Harsh Mistress.