So faced with the fact that – right now, at least – writing blog posts is hard for me, I’ve decided to try just talking. I hesitate to call it a podcast. It’s podcast-esque.
Note: I mean that I’m in my third year of grad school. Not third semester. Blahblah.
You can read the excerpt I read aloud below. From untitled time-travel-war-thing.
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Let me start over.
Once upon a time there was a girl and she was going to be married to herself. Everything was arranged for the wedding day, but after the ceremony was solemnized and she was joined to herself in faithfulness unto death, the world opened up and swallowed her into darkness. Frantic and grief-stricken, she searched, and in the end she went down into the darkness after herself, down into the bowels of the realm of the dead, and there she found herself cold and frozen, sitting with her hand in the skeletal grip of Death.
Give me back myself, she said to Death, and such was her pain and grief that even Death was moved.
You may recover yourself, said Death, and return to the world above. But you may not reflect on yourself on the journey. Keep moving forward. Do not look back as you climb.
So the girl began her long climb back to the world above, followed by the silent shade of herself–or so she believed. So she was made to believe. Until her conviction began to waver there in the darkness. Until she began to wonder if she was anywhere at all. Until she came to a moment where she knew she would either look, or not.
All our choices are made in single instants. All our lives are singularities of time, strung together like pearls.