[ BUY MY BOOKS! Witch-Girl Season One | The Bridge Across the Sky (Amazon) (Kobo) (Goodreads) ][ Stories: Witch-Girl (Read from the bottom of the list), The Canon ] [ Poetry: All Poetry; ( ♥ ) ( ⚔ ) ]
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[ red_a02 ] Shuzhen – The first episode was a lot of fun, cos it had an interesting cocktail of sexual tension and smooth fight choreography. This episode is like the awkward aftermath...
27 Aquarius 13 18:13
[ vermilion_2 ] YAPX – I understand that most of your stories are dialogue-based and heavy on retorts and counter-retorts. This one felt unnecessarily circular. It starts with a cool premise: a killer/villain/vigilante uses Lent to swear off something that should be second nature to him (I suppose), and then talks about a story. The link between the two (giving up killing & the story) isn’t a 100% fit. Maybe instead of “let me tell you a story”, it could be “hey, you see I even passed a guy up for death today!” or equivalent. Something to drag Lorelei into the banter and the premise. // That’s my only complaint. I’m not a big fan of dialogue-based stories, but I can make a exception for this.
14 Aquarius 13 08:03
[ 130204 ] YAPX – Good pace, good characters, great dialogue. The thing I like best is a combination of the three: how you build up their pseudo-relationship through all that back-and-forth exchange. Somehow, you craft a unique, strange relationship: from any one point in the story, both of them are manipulative, victimised and hypocrites - though not all at once. // On word choices, I felt you could change the word “janitor” (“cleaner” or “uncle” would’ve given a different, but more acute local flavour to it). Mostly because, it’s connotes an added level of difference through: class. Whether or not you intended it, by portraying the “janitor” and “student” you bring out the fact that he’s stuck there socially in all sense of the word. It made the part where he says he reads books during weekends completely out-of-context and weird. // Also, there’s too much “sliding” in and out of the room. Not sure if that’s intentional repetition, or just a lack of other words. // I thought that the girl’s own background is pretty compelling. Even after everything, I can’t tell if she’s speaking the truth. Because I’m all for unreliable narrators and characters, I can still find her well-thought out. But other readers might lose patience or wonder at her sudden change of heart at the final moment.
04 Aquarius 13 08:48
…more…
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The Parable of the Sushi Bar ♠ 18 Sco♏pio 10, Thor’s Day ♣ |  |
The dream is like a sushi bar.
A sushi bar with a revolving conveyor belt.
You walk in and you see this marvellous array of food. And it looks delicious and it goes round and round. There are little plates with gleaming rainbows and little plates with shining spheres of light, plates with cubes of pink water and plates with curls of blue smoke.
You are led to your seat and you see someone suck in a curl of smoke, you see someone slurp up a cube of water. You see their happy faces and you see… unhappy ones. They have to eat yucky food.
There’s yucky food there, and there’s normal food, just interspersed with the magic food, going round and round.
You sit down and you watch the plates go by. Your eyes settle on something you’d like, a plate with a ball of purple fire, or a plate with a small green tree.
You reach out to take it, and – suddenly! – someone slaps your hand.
“No,” they say.
“What?” you say.
“No,” they repeat, “You don’t get to choose.”
“But –”
“It’s not fair.”
“How did you…?”
“Everyone says that.”
They place a plate in front of you and, hey, it’s not bad.
And most of the plates aren’t bad.
And you get to eat from the magic plates, sometimes, not that often.
And you have to eat from the yucky ones as well, sometimes, not that often.
You find that if you eat the same magic food often enough, it doesn’t taste as delicious as before. Only the first time is truly wonderful.
You find that if you eat the same yucky food often enough, it doesn’t taste as horrid as before. Only the first time is truly terrible.
You find that anticipation makes a difference; that magic food tastes better when you look forward to it, that yucky food wasn’t so bad after you’ve finished eating it.
When you get bored enough, you start counting plates, just for fun. You find that the magic food appears less often that you’d have thought, and that the yucky plates do too. You’d imagined that the magic plates appeared very often, and you paid attention to the people who got to eat them.
Most of the plates are just normal.
People join you in your booth. The good food tastes better, with company; the bad food doesn’t taste as bad. You like company. But the people don’t always stay long. Sometimes you are grateful when they leave. Sometimes you wish they didn’t. Perhaps you manage to convince someone to stay with you, to sit down and not move on and to share your food with you.
It’s easier to convince people to stay if you let them eat more of the good food, and if you eat more of the bad ones.
And every time you try to reach out and get a plate, someone slaps your hand and goes “You don’t get to choose.”
The dream is like a sushi bar.
You don’t get to choose.
You don’t get to choose if stupid people are stupid, or if hypocrites are hypocritical. You don’t get to choose if people cling to guns and religion, or if someone points out that you are clinging to guns and religion. You don’t get to choose if the person you’ve fallen for can ever fall for you. You don’t get to choose if your dreams come true. You don’t get to choose if your heart gets broken.
You don’t get to choose.
The plates come, you eat them.
You don’t get to choose.
You get to choose a lot of things in life; you get to choose to be diligent, and to be relentless.
You get to choose to learn kindness, and to learn generosity; and to hope that you may somewhen be compassionate. You get to choose to unlearn frustration, and to unlearn expectation; and to hope that you may somewhen be understanding.
You get to choose who you are, who you want to be; but you don’t get to choose which plates appear on your table; you only get to choose how you perceive them, how you eat them.
You don’t get to choose who sits with you in the sushi bar; but you do get to choose to persuade them to stay, or to convince them to leave.
You don’t get to choose.
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“I could tell you my adventures – beginning from this morning,” said Alice timidly: “but it’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”