kingtycoon | (no subject)

This is the time for being a grouch. For being severe and cold and hard. Gone to ice like the rest of the world, it's all so cold you could freeze yourself to solidity just sitting at home in your wingback chair all night glaring.

You could let your beard go twisted and ugly, let your tonsure spring out wild and ugly, you could allow that your laundry be undone and your dishes moulder in the sink. Since changing these matters would neccisarilly cut into the time that you need to spend brooding in silence.

Strength fades, power wanes, the will to endure the winter becomes the all consuming effort and nothing else seems pressing, nothing else seems to demand anything. Life is easy, for everyone, but there you sit, in the dark, brooding. Sleep doesn't come right or often enough, so your stern winter face grows in and you think often of the things you will leave undone without remorse or apology. What does it look like I'm doing. I remain.

It's been a hard cold week and I've had to gather up into myself, I have to collect myself together so that I can spring to life and animation tomorrow. Coiling the spring.

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It's a good look for you - intense, brooding. This is the season of Capricorn after all. Winter of the soul and all.

I think I have said this before and I hope reiterating does not border on creeping on you but I say again: you are one handsome dude.

The beard I think is a little too unkempt, but I don't have to walk around in The Wastelands with my face out, so there is that. Function over form.

I'm super vain so I drink this up like a jerk.