I can never finish anything serious
This is now edited, as it was originally written under the effects of sleep deprivation and contained many errors. The dialogue, however, was edited a more for honesty to the story it comes from.
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"And I think, I just think that maybe if everyone tried they're hardest. Maybe if for just one day everyone fought for every cause they cared for, fought tooth and nail as though their lives depended on it, that the changes they forced that one day might have some lasting effect. Might make some difference our children could look back on and be proud of us for and not this, this joke of a legacy. This curse of a mess we will leave behind for them to grow with, to look forward to when they no longer suckle their mother's breast, when they can finally look around at this world and see it for what it is and fully understand what we have left for them and hate us for it."
"But that will never happen."
"No, it will not, and our children will curse us for our sloth."
"What makes you think it can be changed, Joseph? Why do you despair so?"
"Because I am not not blind, and not being blind I refuse to look away. I refuse to not see." He answered, gesturing towards the rubble. "When they understands what we have just done, what all of us have been doing, how can anyone not hate us, most of all those who will live through their childhood with our illusions only to have to deal with our reality once everything comes shattering down?"
I hate my notes to myself sometimes. Most of the time they make perfect sense to me while being completely nonsensical to everyone else who reads them. I would be lying if I claimed I did not enjoy that aspect of them. More important, though, is they contextlessly relay my thoughts while preserving their emotion and nuance. Usually. Just now I looked at some notes on some entires I wanted to make but put aside while I finished my political stream of thought. Looking back on them, though, I cannot now remember what half of them were referring to, which upsets me greatly. This is in no small part due to what I feel is the seriousness of these posts, but they're lost, presently. I just hope I can find them again. On a related note there's the dialogue. I've recently renewed my efforts towards writing, beginning with two short stories I began almost two years ago. While working on them, the dialogue you see at the beginning of this entry randomly came to mind, which I feel is unconnected to either of them. It is instead the dialogue to a new story that began to come to mind as I wrote it, and while I rarely mind new ideas, especially ones as compelling as this one seems to be, it is presently keeping my mind completely occupied. Really, just once I would like to be able to commit one of my stories to fully physical form, but some mysterious part of my mind is not letting me. I am beginning to think I really may have ADHD.
Finally, I originally intended to write about pheromones, but since it was probably the last Lost post I would ever make, I figured I should give Lost this week's episode as it's final say, as close as it is. Also, by the time I got to the update interface the dialogue was already flowing, and I didn't want it to stop.
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"And I think, I just think that maybe if everyone tried they're hardest. Maybe if for just one day everyone fought for every cause they cared for, fought tooth and nail as though their lives depended on it, that the changes they forced that one day might have some lasting effect. Might make some difference our children could look back on and be proud of us for and not this, this joke of a legacy. This curse of a mess we will leave behind for them to grow with, to look forward to when they no longer suckle their mother's breast, when they can finally look around at this world and see it for what it is and fully understand what we have left for them and hate us for it."
"But that will never happen."
"No, it will not, and our children will curse us for our sloth."
"What makes you think it can be changed, Joseph? Why do you despair so?"
"Because I am not not blind, and not being blind I refuse to look away. I refuse to not see." He answered, gesturing towards the rubble. "When they understands what we have just done, what all of us have been doing, how can anyone not hate us, most of all those who will live through their childhood with our illusions only to have to deal with our reality once everything comes shattering down?"
I hate my notes to myself sometimes. Most of the time they make perfect sense to me while being completely nonsensical to everyone else who reads them. I would be lying if I claimed I did not enjoy that aspect of them. More important, though, is they contextlessly relay my thoughts while preserving their emotion and nuance. Usually. Just now I looked at some notes on some entires I wanted to make but put aside while I finished my political stream of thought. Looking back on them, though, I cannot now remember what half of them were referring to, which upsets me greatly. This is in no small part due to what I feel is the seriousness of these posts, but they're lost, presently. I just hope I can find them again. On a related note there's the dialogue. I've recently renewed my efforts towards writing, beginning with two short stories I began almost two years ago. While working on them, the dialogue you see at the beginning of this entry randomly came to mind, which I feel is unconnected to either of them. It is instead the dialogue to a new story that began to come to mind as I wrote it, and while I rarely mind new ideas, especially ones as compelling as this one seems to be, it is presently keeping my mind completely occupied. Really, just once I would like to be able to commit one of my stories to fully physical form, but some mysterious part of my mind is not letting me. I am beginning to think I really may have ADHD.
Finally, I originally intended to write about pheromones, but since it was probably the last Lost post I would ever make, I figured I should give Lost this week's episode as it's final say, as close as it is. Also, by the time I got to the update interface the dialogue was already flowing, and I didn't want it to stop.