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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2fRkdns:
I feel like I’m in the final scene of the main story, before the epilogue, but I’m sure I’ll find other things I need to wrap up.
And part of the characterization is that the POV character is extremely tired, a bit physically battered, extremely emotionally beat-up, and near the end of his rope. He’s just worn down to almost nothing, and he’s trying to, he’s not even sure what he’s trying to do, he’s trying to get an answer about a friend he thinks might be dead, he’s really not sure, maybe nobody knows, but he has to try to find out at least. He’s so tired, see. And everything hurts.
And I’m so tired, just now. I’ve been close to tears all day, all week. Everything is just so much, and so– out of my control, and terrible. And I don’t know what to do but life has to go on. And so I’m. This scene is probably the only thing I could write, under the circumstances. But it is going very slowly, and very painfully, and i keep pausing every half-sentence to go refresh the Internet, and everything I see makes me almost cry.
Petting the cat makes me almost cry. I made tea, and almost cried. I put whiskey in it, and almost cried; of late I am too overwrought to drink, not out of self-preservation but because it’s too hard to figure out what to drink, see.
The cat just rolled over so her head is upside-down, and that almost made me cry.
And he just, this character, he can’t find if anybody knows what happened to his friend, and he’s so tired, he might just– sit down here, but if he sits down he won’t get up. And he’s not going to cry because he can’t do that in public and he’s too tired to cry anyway. But he can’t– there’s no answer, and he can’t do anything, and he can’t rest.
It’s all just a little too vivid, at the moment, but I just– I want it to be over, I’m almost done, I can’t rest.
I feel like I’m in the final scene of the main story, before the epilogue, but I’m sure I’ll find other things I need to wrap up.
And part of the characterization is that the POV character is extremely tired, a bit physically battered, extremely emotionally beat-up, and near the end of his rope. He’s just worn down to almost nothing, and he’s trying to, he’s not even sure what he’s trying to do, he’s trying to get an answer about a friend he thinks might be dead, he’s really not sure, maybe nobody knows, but he has to try to find out at least. He’s so tired, see. And everything hurts.
And I’m so tired, just now. I’ve been close to tears all day, all week. Everything is just so much, and so– out of my control, and terrible. And I don’t know what to do but life has to go on. And so I’m. This scene is probably the only thing I could write, under the circumstances. But it is going very slowly, and very painfully, and i keep pausing every half-sentence to go refresh the Internet, and everything I see makes me almost cry.
Petting the cat makes me almost cry. I made tea, and almost cried. I put whiskey in it, and almost cried; of late I am too overwrought to drink, not out of self-preservation but because it’s too hard to figure out what to drink, see.
The cat just rolled over so her head is upside-down, and that almost made me cry.
And he just, this character, he can’t find if anybody knows what happened to his friend, and he’s so tired, he might just– sit down here, but if he sits down he won’t get up. And he’s not going to cry because he can’t do that in public and he’s too tired to cry anyway. But he can’t– there’s no answer, and he can’t do anything, and he can’t rest.
It’s all just a little too vivid, at the moment, but I just– I want it to be over, I’m almost done, I can’t rest.
