Like an overcast summer day.
That’s how I would describe my mood right now. There’s some heat – it’s not like I feel calm or relaxed. Those medium grey clouds up there are swirling moodily, and I definitely feel frustrated and irritable in a directionless and noncommittal way.
But I am not stoked up and pissed off, either. Cool air currents circulate around that medium gray cloud formation, and they keep the heat at the middle from building up.
I’m picturing a 20 foot stall dark grey statue of some kind of ogre god-king – let’s call him Urok – with an enormous but very tidy and precise eternal bonfire burning at its base.
Cold mountain air swirls around the statue and its blaze, keeping the balance, and it is said that if the fire ever goes out, it will mean Urok’s great and mighty love is gone and the world will freeze to death and the sun itself will fall from the sky and shatter like glass before the last of its heat melts the seas for just long enough to drown the fragments of the sun forever.
But if the cold winds ever stop. the blaze will escape the circle which contains it, and the world will burn in Urok’s unquenchable rage. Mountains, valleys, rivers, oceans, cities, hamlets, and even the mighty temples of the other gods will burn, break, melt, crack, and be ground unto dust as the earth shakes and fire rains from the sky and Urok’s shadow twin Oruk, a mile high with eyes of darkest night, will smite the world with his red red sword and the continents will break apart from the force.
So it’s…. kind of important.
Do you think writing like this Urok stuff has a market? I mean, it seems pretty epic and cool to me, but I might be just a wee bit biased.
It would make a pretty badass intro to a dark fantasy RPG. Just have to add a bit like….
“As a Guardian of the Balance, you are the latest in a long line of solitary warriors that stretches back far beyond even the deepest of histories of the most ancient of people, and it is your sacred duty to preserve the Balance at all costs.
You were trained for this. Your skills of war make you the equal of not just any man but many armies. You command magic that can turn aside any storm, turn night into day, and even stop time itself if it is necessary for your duties. You have fought and defeated legions of death cultists seeking to trigger the End of All in fire or ice. You even know how to sow the holy salt that insure that no dead thing can walk your lands without being reduced to ash by holy fire.
In short, your training and bloodline combined ensure that you are ready for anything that might happen during your time as Guardian.
Or so you thought. Until today.
Because today, a crack appeared just above the statue’s right eye.
Now it’s up to you to find out what that means. “
Well that was fun to write. I should go on fictional flights of fancy more often.
God knows, I might even write something sellable one of these days.
More after the break.
No seriously, WTF!?!
I ordered some stuff from 7-11. Including two 2L bottles of Coke Zero.
Kids, can you guess what showed up instead? Go on, guess! But don’t bother shouting your answer, because I can’t hear you.
Those of you who shouted “regular Coke”, congratulations! You are correct. You have accurately projected the trend of my life right now and placed tonight’s events on the curve implied by the data.
I’ve fired off a complaint to 7-11 via DoorDash. They sent me the usual automatic offer of compensation, which I have always accepted in the past.
But not this time, both because I am too pissed off and because all they offered me was a lousy $1.51 and frankly. I find that insulting.
I mean, the part of the order they got wrong costs $4. So $1.51 ain’t gonna cut it, cuz.
More importantly, how does this shit keep happening to me? How hard is it to tell the sugary version of a beverage from the diet version?
The bottles are totally different colors for a reason.
My current theory is that there is currently a major production fuckup in the carbonated beverage supply chain leading to massive diet cola shortages everywhere.
Ergo, these errors are a result of people sending me “the closest thing”.
Superficially plausible, but I was at Sav-on a couple of days ago and they had tons of Diet Coke, with no shortage in sight.
Plus, you’d think if they were out of something that common, they could like…. tell people. Maybe even not let them order it.
Just a thought.
It’s almost like now that I am opening myself to my anger more (and realizing that I am a somewhat cranky person), the universe has decided to test my aggravation systems.
Well at least I get mad and bitch about it now, and thus vent the anger instead of swallowing it and just becoming more depressed.
Depression is anger aimed inward, after all.
So I am going to have to call Joe and ask him to grab me my usual pair of 2L Diet Cokes. At least I have a funny reason as to why.
The worst experiences make the best stories sometimes.
Other times, they make for stories so depressing that people are left speechless and pale, like they just witnessed an atrocity.
I wonder if I ever gave someone PTSD?
See, this is why I haven’t figured out how to turn my pain into comedy yet. My pain is kind of hard to laugh at.
“And then there was the time every single member of the student body of my elementary school chased me around the school and held me down so my worst bully could stomp on my head! HA. HA. HA.”
Then again, THAT joke is funny. Hmmm.
Maybe the secret is to get really meta. How post-modern.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.