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Vespair

Anarchy.

I write for the ones without a voice.

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update, progress, today.
Noctis-throne
yoshiyuki_ly
Maybe it's the day. I had such a strange dream about someone I don't think about anymore, contacting me with an emotional, desperate message, asking for us to get back in contact with each other, and admitting that they are still madly in love with me. I woke up feeling like it was nice to have the validation, as I do tend to feel this person's vibes from time to time, but ultimately, I would never decide to speak to them again. "When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time" is the best, objective explanation I can give for this. I don't care anymore and I don't ever want to go back to caring.

An update on Anathema: word count-wise, I'm exactly where I expected I would be by now since starting the manuscript in May. HOWEVER, after letting the story grow on its own, it turns out that I'm only 65% done with this. So my original estimation of finishing the book by the end of the year won't end up coming true. Probably. Perhaps. I'll do my best and see where I end up.

Even just yesterday, listening to the soundtrack for Assassin's Creed Brotherhood gave me an idea for how to approach this last stretch. I really miss the experimental music and the intense atmosphere from the old AC games. I miss the philosophical blend of sci-fi and history and fiction. I miss when the games were their own, creative thing. It's why I can't bring myself to play the newer ones. They don't have what I'm looking for.

Beyond all of that, I understand why things are the way they are. Going at this pace, I know that I won't be done for five or six more years, publishing one book a year, with, possibly, a surprise one in between the volumes of Anathema that span across The Scorpion's Empress, Venus and Lysander, and Black Waltz, as these alternate perspectives from Vespair's point of view. I have to listen to the dictations. Because if I don't, it's like we're in an argument, and that skill of mine gets held away from me, held hostage.

Even when that can't happen anymore, there's going to be something else at the end of the road of these publications. In due time, I'll be ready to face that new challenge, whatever it may be. I enjoy holding on to that unknown as an ideal to strive toward. It's not supposed to make any sense. It doesn't. I know it doesn't. That's the whole point.


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