My ability to still be learning my language is rhetorical, but for my affliction and apparent NEET actions, having in some way become the clown prince of the west, hopefully the world, has in fact or fearfulness alarms my self-inflicted dichotomy, leaving me still wanting after all these years to see the country in copypasta and lousy with longing to know what the hullabaloo is and finding the echoes of garbage mentalities, broken window enterprises, earmark artisans and clockwork intellectuals, and of course the politicians beside themselves with contempt insouciant to power clamored and shattering the greenhouse apocalyptic safespace glass.
It’s been in the shadows and collective unconsciousness, hearts and minds, thoughts and prayers, a new idea shared with someone who doesn’t know how much of this world doesn’t exist, save for knowing me writing these brought the thing, a passing thought a zombie follows.
Thoughts from other essays, pointless realm of kings that mimic me mocking them losing the world to the troubles, which needs someone to tell to, who can never know, who wouldn’t believe, and this terrible oneitis leads me by my id, my confidence if it confides a strange falling into place. Where was I…
So I talked the admittor, still working out the payment because taking care of mom needs some return to camp still, where it could be weekends off and giving the patient time to find someone who looks like me, or I make three cups of coffee and change the locks, half of the pay for megastore, but twice the epicurean wagie shiftwork with the neanderthals to pay for it if there’s no sponsorship from a pair of avenues.
Par excellence? Combining emotions to lead us has hero reasons or liberal answers, in coping it feels too much, meditation in the triple face or masking the instinct. Find someone hot who becomes strong, if they don’t at least you’ll have established a language to make him stronger, or get a job and find a hot chick. Some worry about the numbers, lower taxes, stop making clickbait, have your own kids instead of manipulating society. I’m ahead of you by…30 years?
Also, I’m surprised leftist media aren’t just doing the news in Spanish the way they give zero gobshites about the border. Moreover, there’s no war to escape, just this garbage sensationalist third term. The weak of the world are raging at the dying of the light, quick to violence, sick to study, this is the world.
This isn’t you, having just read a passage of time. I would like to tell you my stories in a cape for research.
While the Vuhlkansu is niche or identitary, it’s burrowing in my thoughts. I was talking to myself about the translation of the grammar where a conlang has examples, but Vulcan has a grammar. The first clause being VSO, but the second clause SVO, or based on the northern languages, the non-present instances countable even in abstract, the perfective as the ablative done in the present sense even in completion. An accurate language made specific, needed for the same story in the past and future.
After the coof, nightshades have to be in low doses, pulses have to be avoided, dairy is a treat, and decided to try the carnivore diet, and then they decided hyperinflation is supercool right now you guys please like us and we’ll let you mangle your offspring. My work will never be enough. The pyramid scam grows in the house of decadent puritanism.
Merlin is returning in M4/Erebus, M5/Oneiros, M6/Kairos, M7/Hel, and all of them in notes. His immortal friend gets a spinoff about the foundation, with flashbacks of an outsider, with the puzzle as an insider climbing the ranks. There was a short idea about a dimension of Marsupialoids that had some chapters over the winter. And if I have any thoughts I’ll say so. All returning: the Ms are forming the ensemble cast in a coherent plot, the foundation is blending some of their mythologies, and then a spy scifi fast and loose with the plot.
What is seen is remembered, what was forgotten trapped in my eyes, let me think of what becomes.