2019 hours and I'm just getting back online. Hmm... maybe I can get my clock to do @internet time, dividing the day into 1000 pieces... hrr...
o.o >.< (gloom) Great... I was working on PawsMUCK... described the intent and theme... about two pages of excellent prose. Then I listed a skeleton structure for how the MUCK would work, and everything seemed great.
I deleted the file.
WHY did I delete the file??? Gods I hate this... I'll never remember that catchy phrase I thought up either. Why do I have to do things like that? And frankly it doesn't matter.. I'd never be able to do it anyway, would fail at teh first opportunity just like everything else in my life. Gods I suck. I can't even get upset at this, nothing but a disgusting sinking feeling, and then just more stinking emptiness. I want to be angry really I do... I want to weep and bitch and scream at the top of my lungs. But it just doesn't come... I'm sitting here doing nothing but drooping a little bit. I cannot express my grief as a dream of mine is destroyed by my own stupid actions. It's all trapped inside... I don't even know why I can't cry...
What a wonderful thing to go to bed on. Something I created was destroyed with the slightest flicker of a disk. Damn entropy, why is it so easy to destroy but so hard to create?
Comment
Index
Previous
(Where is the Magic...)
Next
(When No Tears Would Come)