every human dreams
every human sins
who is to say that
___ ____ __ ____
every intention is born clear as glass
and still, we misread each other’s
260516 0700
Lila runs the world! Well, at least, the morning greetings today.
She was dreaming about something.
Lila: Hmm… Air quotes… *alarm tune* Wait, if you stack them like so, one must be a single quote!!!
0825
Question: Mr. Emmett Me Not, can you enlighten us on the exact wording of the entrance requirements for the Teen Choir?
Answer:
E: *strikes FMN impatient pose* Of course. *brushes hair aside* Strictly for teens and only teens. No children allowed.
Mary at the press conference, sighing: Hah… born too late for the bicycle. Too early for the Teen Choir.
Rikko: *wink* You can dress up as me!
M: Really?? Yayyyyyy!
E: I can hear you!!
Meanwhile, in the kitchen…
F: Sigh… just as I can mock people, they can mock me back…
C: Hmm… also, you won the bet. It wasn’t a misnomer. Do you want to receive your three kisses?
F: Save it for when we’re private! I mean, write me a check.
Luckily, there was nobody around.
C: *kiss* One.
F: I said save it!
C: That was the check.
1356
He wants to tear up, but he doesn’t. Only his facial muscles respond.
F: *sniff* Man, I love Yuyuko! She’s gotta be my favorite character of all time. I can’t believe we don’t have a favorite Touhou character sheet yet…
K: Would you do a cover of this 零れ桜?
F: Ah! I can’t sing EVERY Yuyuko song in the world!!!
He does try.
F: I haven’t tried once! I haven’t recorded anything! Nor practiced my voice and durability, let alone expressions!
K: You don’t need to be so perfectionist. Just be you!
F: What if… it just… comes out as a deep, female voice…?
K: *eyebrow* That’s the point?
F: …Hmm!
K: We could formant it. Suckerzzz!
F: Hahahaha!
Man, he even laughs like an eastern princess. His hand is slightly curled over the mouth, but not pressed, partly masking his joy. And his hair, let loose, naturally drapes over the left quarter of his face.
1620
I think I cracked the code on how we say it.
K: Oh my [ungod]!
C: [Ungod.]
L: Holy fish.
K: *stuttering* I think you meant another word, no?
L: No? *four-footed*
K: No?
L: No, I meant it.
F: Goodness!!
E: Hell yeah!!
K: Sunny, we are discussing how you replace “god”.
E: Like, oh my god?
K: You are blasphemous! You’re not censoring!!!
Lila: what the fuck…
E: Yeah what the fuck…
K: Oh okay. *scribbles* Apparently replacing “god” with “fuck” is a sector…
1955
K: Wondering what all of those tools are? Just replace them with ****** and call it a day.
F: *laughing so hard soul leaves his body*
Saturnelle: Don’t tell him but I think [The Magician] is just reenacting fatality. […] This man and his elaborate toys.
F: *wheezing* Fuck!
C: *still trying to connect all of this information with reality* …Fuck this is cringe. *tips hat*
K: Yeah, I didn’t write you– sorry, him as a “fuckass moron” for no reason.
C: Don’t you think it’s a bit too harsh?
His voice is calm, but his knees are shivering.
K: Sorry! It’s just… too good to miss out on. You know, when you dissect a specimen and it turns out to be way too interesting and pathetically so?
C, still in The Magician’s attire: *sigh* I get it. But that doesn’t mean the specimen can’t get one last cry.
K: Sorry. I’ll… *smiles for 0.5 secs* I’ll try to separate you from him better.
C: You should.
K: But you both are eyecandies, man! Such awesome designs.
C: Who’s the better one, me or him?
K: Well you do look great in your cosplay.
C: Thank you. *tips hat*
K: As long as you don’t go around killing people and announcing transcendentality!
C: [The Magician] has never said that.
K: [The Magician] never discovered that. Not in dead bodies, no. What was he hoping for, to witness samsara?
C: I… He was, indeed, probably looking for some kind of karma.
K: Man! Us and our religious talk! Why isn’t this going away? I’ve been swatting it like flies!
C: Sorry. It’ll probably exist a while longer.
K: Thereee you go! Did I take your minds off it?
C: …Yes. Off what? *a gentle smile*
K: That’s my boy!! *hugs* That’s something [Enne] will never have!
C: Something he’d never return to… unfortunately.
K: Do you think he has ever smiled so kindly in his former life?
C: I… It’s best not to assume. After all, I am THIS distant from him. Consider us relatives, just so.
K: Got it.
2011
*pủm*
K: *squeaks*
Upon hearing the thud, Lav and Cantor ran over to assess the situation.
L: Welp. I never thought I’d live to see this day.
C: “KyonKyon farts and dies.”
L: Damn right. All ’cause of that hamster death compendium.
2251
Frederick did some practice recording today.
F: Man, that was good… That little bit was so manly… Can I, keep it? *shyly*
K: It’s always there.
F: Ah. Right. Right…… Imma use use it as my ringtone.
K: Your ringtone? To whom?!
F: You know what I mean! An alarm shall suffice!
That pitch-shifting compressor, though…
K: At this rate, Fred’s gonna have to sing in microtones.
F: NAWWWWWWW!!!
2323
Yeah how should I say this…
Cantor loves people who write, and he himself writes too, but he’s never read an academic book in his short life.
No, really.
He’s never quoted a book from memory. The only thing he keeps in his heart are the vague memories, impressions and trivia of the literary figures and social advocates he loves.
K: Will you read a book someday, Cantor?
C: I think you yourself may have had a wrong impression of me. I have read a book, though not fully, but enjoyably, as part of my work. It was “The Remembered Village,” and Srinivas was a man of deep thought.
K: Don’t you think he’s too tame compared to fundamental philosophers like Kant or Marx?
Cantor chuckles and shakes his head.
C: What use is there to do so? When you die, will people remember you as someone of that calibre, if you had never published your work?
K: You’re saying as if you don’t intend to.
C: I probably am.
K: Why not give it a try?
Cantor sighs.
C: Look at our philosophy. Hasn’t it been absolutely deranged?
K: It is a philosophy of chaos.
C: No one is going to publish it.
K: We can self-publish!
C: …Try to do something else, first.
K: …You know what, Cantor? You are incredibly pessimistic for a literature teacher.
C: Because I have… Well, you have a point. Maybe we haven’t tried hard enough. Maybe we’re still soundly sleeping in our chrysalis. And what will become of us? Will our work in the next 10 years be any more profound?
K: I don’t know, but we could test the waters with this game.
C: Ah!
He slaps his knees. At this point, he has clearly relayed the convo to Irving.
I: Self-promo!
K: In your own work? What? Of course!!
He waves his white bloodstained flag made of gauze.
I: Work hard and test your bugs!!
260517 1514
The dream was paralyzing, yet again. The world twisted and crackled, the same rowdy laughter resounding, and we covered our faces until the end.
Cantor steps onto the island of consciousness first, buried deep in the astronomical dusk.
The seawater, rather than playfully tapping, pushes us onto the shore.
Next is Frederick, his hand led by Cantor. He turns back to find the last passenger.
KyonKyon was still pressed into the sand clay. Fred digs the drenched Kyon out and carries them along.
Cantor looked at his own hands, even though he doesn’t have to. Slowly and carefully, more than usual.
C: Just to be sure.
They are untainted by caustic burns. He also stretches his fingers to see his mobility.
C: Good.
Kyon is blank.
K: Dad…
Cantor pulls my head close, gently of course, and gave me some head pats.
C: Birdie.
K: I’m sorry for having let you see something so embarrassing…
C: That’s okay. No one will see that again. The only way they would know is by talking to us, and to a lesser extent, by reading our work.
He kisses my forehead.
C: And no one would know. See? Even I forgot.