Pg. 37 You wonder if this day will ever end. It's dragged on since the moment you woke up, WAY longer than needed to be. Despite the sky getting darker and darker, it chooses to linger. Heavy and stagnant, like air too wet to breathe. Your sister, of course, has found a meaning of sorts within it. Insisting on playing caretaker, dolling out indulgence to the absolute hellspawn she calls her patrons. And GAIA. Who made you wait. Who, frankly, always makes you wait! You told yourself you wouldn't mind, and you try to keep things respectful between those you hold dear, but the hours have caused your feelings to ferment. Something bitter festers inside you. She doesn't even have it! The thing she swore to fetch! SBURB!!! You curse whatever god's in charge of stuff like this. It was Chronus, right? "God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him." - Friedrich Nietzsche. Just saying, you probably could've said that quote yourself. Born in the wrong place, wrong time, you fear...
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