Spare Time > Recent Status Updates

I always have an interest in old scifi logic of creation of monsters without the knowledge of dna. Despite it not being discovered yet the fictional Doctor explained how grafting and alterating of bones and muscles can change the being even in the chemical aspect. Such a time piece of science history about the public’s perception of the ‘evil’ of science

Reminder to myself to never use Everand for subscription. Despite having the same model as Audible where you pay credits to access an audiobook or ebook it will take away those licenses once you end your subscription. Pissed me off

Its throwing me off how well produced this audiobook is

Im already irritated because they wont let her have the car she helped pay for

HE SOLD IT

Its a promise I have with the departed

See? This is all you were missing. Im crying literally rn

There is nothing in the world more difficult to refuse than self-righteous goodwill

THIS

Devastated

What was the definition of friendship, anyhow? I had long lost sight of the answer —- SCREAMING AND CRYING

Light the Light In by Lana del Ray played while reading the following scene it never felt more fitting for this relationship

Watching Aoyama fumble these interactions with Chizuru because she her status as a Mainlander is both fascinating and makes me want to yell at her. Her pacifism will be the determent of their relationship because Chizuru clearly wants someone who can choose a side. My heart breaks with Chizuru this woman with so much potential to understand her also is above her status and cannot understand her dilemma

"The demarcation between the Islanders' lóo-bah and the Mainlanders' sashimi is the distinction between the dirty and the pure," Chi-chan said, her voice low. "The same applies to the Islanders' chosan and the Mainlanders' kimono."

YES YES DONT HOLD BACK GO ALL IN ON THE LUDICROUSY OF THE SCENARIO DO NOT HOLD BACK

Knew this book existed but when the developers of Scarlet Hollow said it was similar to the VN I finally paid attention. Chasing the Scarlet Hollow horror/comedic vibe

The irony of dnfing The Shining to read this book only for this book to make nonstop Shining references the first few chapters 😭

he was sobbing freely as he ran back up the riverbank in bounding leaps, with Margaret in his arms, and even though as it turns out he had fractured both of his ankles instead of spraining them, he ran like a man unburdened, because God had just given him the chance to make up for the day of the schoolyard flood. Step by step he was freeing himself from the guilty burden of his old sin.

He looked at the other girl and thought: This girl is spotlessly clean. She's an ordinary, forgettable, very mediocre sort of girl who will never take a single risk in life. When she grows up she will work in the mill. She will never leave town. She will die alone in her bed, in the house where she was born. This first girl, though? The one with the mud in her hair? This girl is going places —
^they are 4 mind you

She guessed that if she were to go through each of her actions one by one, she'd find the spectre of Eriko rising up before her, staring her down.

How ridiculous she'd been, she thought, for loathing Eriko that intensely, and distancing herself.

She would become one with the dust and rubbish, be consumed by the house and disappear entirely. Such was her destiny - it had been written for her from her birth. She had struggled against it, but now, eventually, she had given herself over to its grasp. Its power was irresistible.

It appeared as though Eriko's assessment of TV programmes wasn't based on whether or not something was entertaining. No, Eriko imposed her own yardsticks even in the world of fiction, diligently measuring everything as though it were a professional assignment and finding it impossible to enjoy anything that didn't meet her standards.

She wanted to sleep with Shoko’s husband, to make him a shared possession of theirs

What I want is to be able to bring up my kids without having to worry about money all the time. So long as I've got my girlfriends, I don't need anything else. I've never held out high hopes for men. If I've got a man who's healthy and who doesn't get in my way, that's good for me.'

Dealings with the world, yes, at any time they are entirely ours. But the words—the written form in which we enclose them, attentive to the red margins of our note-books—are not. We have to accept the fact that no word is truly ours. We have to give up the idea that writing miraculously releases a voice of our own, a tonality of our own: in my view that is a lazy way of talking about writing.

The "genuine ' real life," as Dostoyevsky called it, is an obsession, a torment for the writer. With greater or less ability we fabricate fictions not so that the false will seem true but to tell the most unspeakable truth with absolute faithfulness through the fiction.

Thus the novel of love begins to satisfy me when it becomes the novel of being out of love. The mystery begins to absorb me when I know that no one will find out who the murderer is. The bildungsroman seems to me on the right track when it's clear that no one will be built.

Over time, writing has come to mean giving shape to a permanent balancing and unbalancing of myself, arranging fragments in a frame and waiting to mix them up.