Saturday, April 30, 2016

The Axe and the Throne by Ireman. Barely remember it now.... been awhile. Has lumbering large viking types. Uncompleted series I shouldn't have started. Wasn't impressed enough to reread the first book which I've already mostly forgotten.

Pierce Brown space trilogy Red Rising, Golden Son, Morning Star. Has a leftist revolution. That got me interested. Society divided along very sharp lines. The Reds are the lowest. The workers. There are pinks, etc. All ruled by the Golds who act vaguely like the ancient Romans. But I stopped 75% into the final book. It got so boring. Space warfare is so boring.

Dave Duncan-Speak to Devils and When the Saints. Not his best stuff. Magic starts as a voice that you pray to. Did like the era (15th century).

Going to have open heart surgery to replace my ascending aortic artery in a few weeks. This has been looming over my head since I was less than ten. I'll get to be off work for a month and it can't hurt as bad as kidney stones. And until then I'm expected to be sedentary so really looking forward to getting this over with and getting back to tennis.

Hope I don't die because that would mean my one year old son would grow up without a father I guess. Joanna claims she wouldn't remarry. I certainly wouldn't want her to not remarry. Anyway though I would like to be there for him and make sure things don't repeat. But really he could grow up in an orphanage and he'd still get taken care of enough that things wouldn't repeat.

Was thinking I know the real reason I wanted to write so much but wasn't successful. I have some intense feelings but I can't multitask well enough. I can't hold on to those intense feelings while also thinking about typing, grammar, etc. I can type etc pretty well but it's enough that the intense feeling is deadened. So they say to write like it's a grind, 500 words everyday. Every time I've done that all the intense feeling that was the real reason I wanted to is quickly lost. To successfully write I would have to somehow hold onto those intense feelings while putting down words. Perhaps if I could hold onto those feelings for say 2% of the words...

“When will it ever end? Why won’t they stop? Why won’t they see? When will this horror end?” She says as if she’s pleading to someone, but not me. Because I can’t stop them.
 
In the afterlife we are all hunted by those we have wronged.
When they catch us, what then? What happens to us? They are stuck there forever. Ghosts forever living their terrible end. All who have had terrible ends are ghosts forever caught, unable to forget. Forever seeking a revenge that can never be quenched.