awakenings the sixty-second
I don't know when I'm from. Everyone from my world is from different points in the relative future, and I speak as if things that have happened to them have already happened for me when in fact I have no idea if they've even been born yet. Seldom do any of us stop to think how odd this is.
If time is a product of consciousness, then I appear to be unconscious. It might be reasonable to think that everything happened when I saw it happen, and this is just the endgame - the part where your brain is shutting down and your life flashes before your eyes. Everyone's here to say one last goodbye, but to themselves and not each other.
We're not all dying. Some of us are just going to change. Or have changed. Or perhaps someone is about to get their wish.
In any case, when I'm really unhappy here it's occasionally comforting to think that this isn't a place but a state of mind. We'll all snap out of it eventually. Or we won't, and then it won't matter.
On that note (but perhaps unrelatedly), as much as I enjoy working at Seventh Heaven, I'm seriously considering going into business for myself. I suppose I didn't intend to be a cook forever, in any case. You'd expect that if I were going to quit soon and giving notice I'd do so in a much more professional manner - and you'd be right, because I'm not doing either of those things right now.
I'm merely curious: does anyone need an engineer in this City, and would you prefer or settle for one of the magical variety?
What do you consider a comforting thought?
If time is a product of consciousness, then I appear to be unconscious. It might be reasonable to think that everything happened when I saw it happen, and this is just the endgame - the part where your brain is shutting down and your life flashes before your eyes. Everyone's here to say one last goodbye, but to themselves and not each other.
We're not all dying. Some of us are just going to change. Or have changed. Or perhaps someone is about to get their wish.
In any case, when I'm really unhappy here it's occasionally comforting to think that this isn't a place but a state of mind. We'll all snap out of it eventually. Or we won't, and then it won't matter.
On that note (but perhaps unrelatedly), as much as I enjoy working at Seventh Heaven, I'm seriously considering going into business for myself. I suppose I didn't intend to be a cook forever, in any case. You'd expect that if I were going to quit soon and giving notice I'd do so in a much more professional manner - and you'd be right, because I'm not doing either of those things right now.
I'm merely curious: does anyone need an engineer in this City, and would you prefer or settle for one of the magical variety?
What do you consider a comforting thought?