[Anyway I don't know where Beau deposits him if it's in Winter or Spring or just on the ground somewhere but at like 4am there is a text sent from somewhere.]
I don't believe the gods are indifferent as much as unable to comprehend the things we worry about. It must be lovely to be a god. Everyone must definitely look like ants. Or squirrels.
Fate is most certainly real. I worry about whether or not my fate is simply ... course-correcting itself back onto the path it was always supposed to take. Maybe I'm simply fighting a current here. Hard not to see how those strange coincidences add up, isn't it?
Being dead isn't so terrible. I imagine it was peaceful. On the other side here, you're simply a passive observer, maybe forcing through a brief message or two. Oh - Maybe that's what the gods feel like, on the other side of their gate?
W5 - WEDNESDAY
I don't believe the gods are indifferent as much as unable to comprehend the things we worry about. It must be lovely to be a god. Everyone must definitely look like ants. Or squirrels.
Fate is most certainly real. I worry about whether or not my fate is simply ... course-correcting itself back onto the path it was always supposed to take. Maybe I'm simply fighting a current here. Hard not to see how those strange coincidences add up, isn't it?
Being dead isn't so terrible. I imagine it was peaceful. On the other side here, you're simply a passive observer, maybe forcing through a brief message or two. Oh - Maybe that's what the gods feel like, on the other side of their gate?