kingtycoon | Yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah.

At work at work always. The people around me have that unfortunate thing where they like to talk about famous people and sports and what they will have for lunch all day. The like talking about nonsense that I don't care about. I ain't eat lunch, know about famous people or think about sports. I'd probably sound all pompous and maybe even be that, thinking - "I only talk about REAL things." except that I patently prefer to talk about unreal things all the time.

Also the weather - which is considerably improved even in the last few minutes. I got into the office and they were chattering away about how Tornadoes are predicted to be likely. Likely tornadoes seems like a really intense matter that asks for attention, but no, it's time to go back to thinking about what everyone is having for lunch. Funny old world.

I think I'm finally over the ol' switcheroo that got played out on the clocks at the end of the month - DST is my permanent foe, and I'm like, sensitive as hell about it. Finally worked it out, and I'm back to waking ahead of my alarm and not sleeping through it. Could be the weather, could be the birds singing too. I've been at home and heard them outside in the crepuscular dusktimes and had no choice but to go out walking. It's good to be in the living world again with living things around you. Sometimes in science it's said that all the solid matter is the crystalline form of a molecule or elements, that everything is crystal - but it's the springtime that you're able to see & understand that distinction between what's alive & what isn't. There's a difference that is stark & substantive, real as anything & impossible to properly name - but there's that anima flowing back into the air & it has the power to lift off the sense of gloomy solitude that the winter enforces. "Here I am, the only living thing among the crystals." you'd say, as you stumbled over the plains of frozen water, the mountains of crystalline mist.

This translates to a lot of talk that people want to have, a lot of stirred up blood & a driving desire for conversation - at the game last night they faced the scary terror of the Rust-Mothers who were ball-gown wearing ghoul priestesses who all wear rusty ball & chain devotional symbols. All carved to resemble rusty babies & children. They'd made kites out of the skins of some kings, or anyway, were flying king-skins over the fetid hobo jungle. Then there was a lot of very dear gambling, and then there was some solution & then there was a breaking off and a lot of intensive discussion - people, all of us, not having enough of that, not enough to talk about or people to talk to. Maybe we think about varieties of boardgame, worthiness of kickstarters & new rulesets & storylines the way my coworkers think about lunch, talking with an urgent, fervent will. It was fine, and in the end I let the air go out of me and felt myself deflate in peace on my bed.