(no subject)
Much as I do like rain, I distaste the feeling of forsakenness that settles on the world if it rains for too long. Feels as if there will be no tomorrow - not for real, not for us - as if looking at the sky, or going up into space on a rocket as far as engines would allow, we'd discover no distant constellations, no infinite emptiness, but an infinity of rain...with no limits and no force to put a stop to it.
Imagine that...a perfect invasion. The rain, the greyness, the cold - it cloggs our senses, blots out all light and joy, makes days dull and thoughts even more so. Just what you need to conquer a civilization of sensationalists such as we; no nuclear weapons, no alien threats, no strange monsters - just spleen. At first you don't know it's got you, then you realise something's gone wrong but you think it'll pass, think you can handle it...but soon enough you get used to it; the spleen seeps into your blood, fills your heart and weighs down your limbs. Then - you're lost. You will not fight as you don't want to, you will not think as you don't need to, you will not live as it means nothing to you.
As easy as that. The perfect invasion.
Mottos of the day:
Constant vigilance! (c) Alastor Moody.
I'm stuck. In 1969. (c) The Doctor.
Imagine that...a perfect invasion. The rain, the greyness, the cold - it cloggs our senses, blots out all light and joy, makes days dull and thoughts even more so. Just what you need to conquer a civilization of sensationalists such as we; no nuclear weapons, no alien threats, no strange monsters - just spleen. At first you don't know it's got you, then you realise something's gone wrong but you think it'll pass, think you can handle it...but soon enough you get used to it; the spleen seeps into your blood, fills your heart and weighs down your limbs. Then - you're lost. You will not fight as you don't want to, you will not think as you don't need to, you will not live as it means nothing to you.
As easy as that. The perfect invasion.
Mottos of the day:
Constant vigilance! (c) Alastor Moody.
I'm stuck. In 1969. (c) The Doctor.