Journal of Extended Exposure to Lounge
What is it about this place? The weeks I've spent here. They feel like mere seconds. Seconds, by extension, feel so short they might as well not exist.
It is the nature of this room, its essence. It calls to me, tugs at my soul, stirs in me a desire for something I've never known, never dared to. I want to put it into words, to share this feeling with others, but where would I even begin? It's less of a feeling and more of an understanding, a knowing, a believing. Truth, with a capital T.
Would I say the lounge has spoken to me? Yes, but in a cryptic tongue, created specifically for this very communication, sacred in its purpose, then discarded as soon as it's used, never to be spoken again. A single moment of clarity, of connection between man and room, then shut forever. A memory. Or perhaps not a memory, but an insight into the past. The past that never happened.
Also I'm hungry
I thought I'd transcribe this for anyone not interested in riddling out handwriting.
You're welcome.Koko wrote:Thanks ^^
Thank you, and so does Isyan.Koko wrote:Btw, Silvish is great as always
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