I read a published story, the obvious love-child of two popular, currently airing television series, and I wonder: who are these editors and slush readers turning a wonderful genre to a wasteland? can I meet them, one day, and see the death of culture firsthand?
when I was a child, I was afraid of nightmares, so I wished I would never dream again; I feel we, as a culture, have made the same request.
there’s something wonderful about relationships in games: their face and form is them, instead of simply theirs; in reality, when we look at a person, we may never really see them, and no matter how beautiful they may be, we may never be able to love them.
if you say “If you don’t work, we’ll kill you” I’ll say: kill me; but if you say “We need help” I’ll bear any burden.
somehow it’s worse: being both disappointed and satisfied
i don’t want to lose my spirit/soul/love. i’ve wasted so much of my life trying to keep it.
tell me how civilization isn’t a place where the weak die and the strong eat the weak? it’s just a question of what defines weakness in this environment; things like romance, for one, and loyalty, and honor, and self-sacrifice.
I wonder what the threat of punishment really accomplishes; in the short term, it saves lives, but in the long-term, it’s a kind of natural selection on evil, which allows the strongest and most sinister to survive and thrive in secret.