a close friend
who is an exceptionally smart person; not, i suppose--just since i'm laying this out--someone whose recreational habits include the careful parsing of narrative texts, but a very smart person
and a real genuine friend both of me and this work: a warm and consistent advocate, engaging and checking in on it
got to see him and his gf
dinner
asks me how it's going
i liked how...the, I don't know the literary word, the theme or
[we stumbled past this question of the right word]
where it's how when, things happen in the game, they happen in the real world.
oh my g*d. all is lost. i am not really kidding. the chasm of disconnection is so vast that it will never be bridged, and all my time's wasted, my ships are all sunk. i'm being hyperbolic, but not in a sarcastic or opposite sense. that is how complete this...so yes, it has been a minute since this smart good friend has read any Erra, of course. it's been a minute since anyone has.
but, a smart good friend attentive reader grasping for a "theme" or "motif" or--
THAT IS LITERALLY THE WHOLE POINT OF THE WHOLE ENTIRE STORY. THAT IS WHAT THE STORY IS ABOUT.
my failure to convey this as a central driving essence of the narrative is akin to the failure of sitting down to write (say) romeo & juliet and leaving a viewer saying
i liked, i thought how...i wasn't sure, but it seemed like, there was a kind of like theme, or commentary, about love? in the story. i liked that, i think, although i kind of last track of it in the play's latter half.
there is no asshole world in which this is on my friend, the []. or, i mean, i guess there is -- only because if modern public life teaches us nothing else it must be that any asshole world based on any old narcissistic need is conceivable and can be at least uttered. but there is no asshole world that i live in, or live adjacent to, in which this is on my friend. what i heard when i heard that was the complete and total extent of the failure and pointlessness of all of these efforts
what's maybe weird about that is that it neither discouraged nor "fired up" the fact that, this morning, as usual, i got up a bit before 5 and i've written for...idk, ~3 hours, so that i can go to bed tonight knowing i put 6-7 hours of real work into this
HOPELESS, POINTLESS, INCOMPREHENSIBLE
thing.
whatever. i will try to make some kind of living doing things
and to not be a totally useless human being to my society
and i guess i'll do this thing, too
writing
the thing i kind of identify with and care about
even though it is so demonstrably
stoopid.
wutevr
who is an exceptionally smart person; not, i suppose--just since i'm laying this out--someone whose recreational habits include the careful parsing of narrative texts, but a very smart person
and a real genuine friend both of me and this work: a warm and consistent advocate, engaging and checking in on it
got to see him and his gf
dinner
asks me how it's going
i liked how...the, I don't know the literary word, the theme or
[we stumbled past this question of the right word]
where it's how when, things happen in the game, they happen in the real world.
oh my g*d. all is lost. i am not really kidding. the chasm of disconnection is so vast that it will never be bridged, and all my time's wasted, my ships are all sunk. i'm being hyperbolic, but not in a sarcastic or opposite sense. that is how complete this...so yes, it has been a minute since this smart good friend has read any Erra, of course. it's been a minute since anyone has.
but, a smart good friend attentive reader grasping for a "theme" or "motif" or--
THAT IS LITERALLY THE WHOLE POINT OF THE WHOLE ENTIRE STORY. THAT IS WHAT THE STORY IS ABOUT.
my failure to convey this as a central driving essence of the narrative is akin to the failure of sitting down to write (say) romeo & juliet and leaving a viewer saying
i liked, i thought how...i wasn't sure, but it seemed like, there was a kind of like theme, or commentary, about love? in the story. i liked that, i think, although i kind of last track of it in the play's latter half.
there is no asshole world in which this is on my friend, the []. or, i mean, i guess there is -- only because if modern public life teaches us nothing else it must be that any asshole world based on any old narcissistic need is conceivable and can be at least uttered. but there is no asshole world that i live in, or live adjacent to, in which this is on my friend. what i heard when i heard that was the complete and total extent of the failure and pointlessness of all of these efforts
what's maybe weird about that is that it neither discouraged nor "fired up" the fact that, this morning, as usual, i got up a bit before 5 and i've written for...idk, ~3 hours, so that i can go to bed tonight knowing i put 6-7 hours of real work into this
HOPELESS, POINTLESS, INCOMPREHENSIBLE
thing.
whatever. i will try to make some kind of living doing things
and to not be a totally useless human being to my society
and i guess i'll do this thing, too
writing
the thing i kind of identify with and care about
even though it is so demonstrably
stoopid.
wutevr