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[morbid_bunni]

I'm home sick today, and couldn't sleep, so I woke up at six in the morning -- Woohoo -- and then trudged over to my aunt's house at seven, where I had breakfast and lively conversation that probably leaves the best of us a little "O_o is she really sick?" Truth of the matter is that ibuprofin is the best fucking drug in my world for pain. Kicks

Comments

[random_amsy]

Vonnegut, now Clarke. Holy fuck what is happening?

[morbid_bunni]

You have to remember that they are old men. Bradbury ain't lookin' so hot, either. And beyond him, Philip Jose Farmer's even older.

Not to mention that Pratchett has early signs of alzheimer's and ... well, I think it's changing of the guard time, really.

Someday, Gibson will be old, and we'll all be shocked by his death, too.

[random_amsy]

I know, I know. It's just so shocking and demoralizing when one of my writing idols just spontaneously goes 'oh, hello, I'm going to die now.' Maybe I'll get over it eventually.

Forgot to mention it in my shock about Clarke, but I hope you feel better soon. o_o;

[morbid_bunni]

Thanks. I'm already feeling tonnes better compared to how I felt on Tuesday. Like, I'm still in pain, but I'm getting better, so. n__n; Yah.

And it is demoralizing when the big ones go. But, then, they are only mortal.

Bradbury has a short called "Exiles" in his anthology "The Illustrated Man" that made me feel impossibly better about how my of my favourite authors are keeled over horribly. <3 I'm going to have to reread Clarke's "Rendevouz with Rama" very soon. It's one of the best "OMG A SPACESHIP! WHAT'S INSIDE!!?!" I've ever read. n__n <3