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t3knomanser's Fustian Deposits


How Random Babbling Becomes Corporate Policy

run the fuck away

Mad science gone horribly, horribly wrong(or right).


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Rainbow Me
It's storming out, which definitely suits my mood at the moment. Each blast of thunder hits me like a massage, and each crack loosens my nerves and my muscles. It makes me feel good. I'm slogging through The Dark Tower, last in the series, and that also makes me feel good, if a bit sad. You know that it won't end happily, even if the stated goal is accomplished, because sometimes, a price needs to be paid.

I wrote a story today, a draft really, but there's a vein in it that requires expansion- I'll probably post it tomorrow, but it gets its debut tonight at midnight, which in itself is a story.

Did you ever marvel at what capricous bastards authors and artists and other creators are? Good fiction, the best fiction, has a kernel of Truth, a shred of reality in it, and these creators- these shapters, to get all archaic on you- make that world dance, controlling every word and every event.

I have a paycheck in my pocket. I'm going to go cash it, and then walk home. In the rain.
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