(no subject)
Here I go again, but this time I thank Mr. Moroto for his interest in my babbling (hope the last name is right, it is my personal peeve when people misspell mine).
Standing boldy against the tide their sits a fisherman fo bold and stern countenance,a countenance of the mounation. it cannot change and will not. He gazes off into the twilight and sees what he has down. He has fished all day and all night for three days straight, but despite the exhaustion and bodily needs he continues to search for teh fish that has not come for one thosand years. Teh eteral fish, the Leviathan of the Ancients who beheld its glory and marvelled at its power in all things. The fish was beyond them and greater, and for thsi reason the fisherman knew that there coudl be no task greater tahn the conquest or attempt at conquest of something so great. He woudl subdue the myth of the ages, of the eons, of time itself and capture the essence of the divinity of earlier times. But his efforts were to always be fruitless. For it was the fish that had died ina sea of iniquity and descreatioon that man had found and augmented in his folly. A folly greater than the sum of its parts. A folly that would leasd to the greatest loss of all time, the loss of belief in truth and what others had seen. But the fisherman was left. he would gaze and search for as long as he could survive, lving on the brink of death, sacrificing his life to the pursuit of the turht which may never come. ti was worth it to him to be right, to know his he was correct, to understand what really was. But he was alone, the last noble though impoverished, wiseamn though so simple, king though without kingdom or rule. Fianlly there was a tug att eh net that he had set out to find the Leviathan. He pulled in hoping, but all that was there was a lone tunafish. But it was nto an ordinary tuna, it was without a school. He pondered it for many moments, but knew that it was inexplicable. The tuna must me like me, he thought, alone form his comrades. And so he realeased the tuna in mercy for one so alone in his state as well
Standing boldy against the tide their sits a fisherman fo bold and stern countenance,a countenance of the mounation. it cannot change and will not. He gazes off into the twilight and sees what he has down. He has fished all day and all night for three days straight, but despite the exhaustion and bodily needs he continues to search for teh fish that has not come for one thosand years. Teh eteral fish, the Leviathan of the Ancients who beheld its glory and marvelled at its power in all things. The fish was beyond them and greater, and for thsi reason the fisherman knew that there coudl be no task greater tahn the conquest or attempt at conquest of something so great. He woudl subdue the myth of the ages, of the eons, of time itself and capture the essence of the divinity of earlier times. But his efforts were to always be fruitless. For it was the fish that had died ina sea of iniquity and descreatioon that man had found and augmented in his folly. A folly greater than the sum of its parts. A folly that would leasd to the greatest loss of all time, the loss of belief in truth and what others had seen. But the fisherman was left. he would gaze and search for as long as he could survive, lving on the brink of death, sacrificing his life to the pursuit of the turht which may never come. ti was worth it to him to be right, to know his he was correct, to understand what really was. But he was alone, the last noble though impoverished, wiseamn though so simple, king though without kingdom or rule. Fianlly there was a tug att eh net that he had set out to find the Leviathan. He pulled in hoping, but all that was there was a lone tunafish. But it was nto an ordinary tuna, it was without a school. He pondered it for many moments, but knew that it was inexplicable. The tuna must me like me, he thought, alone form his comrades. And so he realeased the tuna in mercy for one so alone in his state as well