Moopyness. and Haylar.

I know I haven't done any Haylar for ages, and I don't even think this one is funny, and I can't be bothered to correct the fact they both have blue eyes, which is most emphatically wrong. But anyway. They do get better again, for those values of 'better' that Haylar can take...

I am slightly mutterdepressed, but that's because I'm ill and have been on here for over two hours. Time to go do something else, I feel.

(Am also all moopy about having to do STEP papers due to applying to Stupid College From Heck. Note that I did not say 'of doooooom', because I am not a foreverdirt clone, nor am I one of her minions. Note also that I am insane. Thank you.)

I have no idea why I didn't go and see Harry Hill, which my parents are currently doing, tonight. It was out of some misguided attempt to get an early night, I think. Like that's going to work. I also had this vague idea that I was going to, like, Write Stuff. Having discovered that I have Katalina stuck in Earth orbit for *two whole months* without the Guardians getting even a *teensy* bit suspicious, or doing any kind of routine check, I've kind of lost the will to edit my NaNoNovel, despite the utter coolness of the Sentari. It's not my fault that time passes differently in different cultures, damn it, but the Cycle of Meshooki is determined to take two months and it just doesn't make so much *sense* without Cassy following all of it... but it was so neat and ironic that Katalina looking for her made her run away!

So, anyway, I coloured more Haylar, and now I'm going to eat or something. Honest. Just as soon as I've finished spending about twenty minutes putzing around posting to LJ.

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( Evil survey of dooooom. I was far too tired when writing this. Some content might be unsuitable for this filter, but I have this whole not caring thing going on right now, so have fun. )

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That was longer than twenty minutes. I now really will extract myself from the computer before I get even more cranky and write more things I'll regret in the morning.

This is pretty much my unedited thoughts. And yes, I did go eat something; nice yummy pigflesh.

Wolves until the world goes down. That's what it feels like.

Badly paraphrased from several of Stephen Baxter's books (Origin, and basically all the ones with blue circles, I think): In the afterglow of the Big Bang, humanity spread across the face of the universe, sprawling and breeding and dying, until the stars grew dark. Even then, life remained; those who were left grew great on gravitational fat. But in the end, entropy would have its way. And as the last remnants of humanity spun out their long, slow lives, eking out the last energy in the universe, dogged, half-insane, they realised - it wasn't meant to be this way.

./~ Behold He comes, riding on the clouds, shining like the sun, at the trumpte call; lift your voice, it's the year of Jubilee, out of Zion's hill salvation comes ~/.

./~ Deep in our hearts there's a cry as the Spirit and Bride say Come, Jesus, Come, take your white horse and ride through the heavens, come... ~/.

I'm rambling. Wolves until the world goes down is something like the title of a short story I read, which I loved the title of, and was a solid short story but I thought at the time it was nothing to write home about. Although now I see the relevance; it's a short fantasy story about the cycle of the Norse mythology being broken by the final suicide of one of the gods who is meant to come back from the place of the dead, to prevent the younger gods from hastening Ragnarok after they let Fenir loose early. The cycle is broken and nobody knows what will happen; it is implied that the end of the world - wolves until the world goes down - certainly won't, at least as planned.

It was that survey that really made me think; what have I accomplished? nothing permanent that I know of. what do I want to be? useful. But, I don't seem to do much towards that nowadays; when I was a kid I handed out pamphlets, I read out poems, with the Damascus Trust, which is still going, although we're not sure how and what exactly is being done any more. Because my income is pitiful, so is my giving; I don't work, after all. I guess I pray a bit, but not as much as I ought, although we never do, or we'd do nothing else.

I blame this entry soley on there being none of the people I would normally bounce this kind of thing off around to talk me out of posting it.