[FancyCyclops]

The writing is a bit jittery.
...Strange.

Epiphany of Sloth

I was never a writer. Always a reader. I never really wanted a big stake in the events, merely watch them unfold. At least, that's what I think. Because every now and then I realize I want to be involved. I want to be someone; I don't just want to sit out of the game! But, despite EVERYTHING, from prayer to Mercala, from help from one of Her devoted, from secular help to not-so-secular help, I'm still an observer. How much has changed over the years? Heck if I know. Sure, I get help. I always get help. I get so much help I never help myself. I don't even know if I need it at this point; I'm going senile and I haven't even hit 40. I suppose that's what I deserve for forcing Vera into a contract of making sure I don't come up with another use for my foot-warmer. Or my gauze.

I'm getting off track.

I don't know what to do. Probably retire into a quiet life of servitude and solitude. Maybe it isn't worth going back to Sigrogana for that small chance it'll get better. Sure, some big thing's gonna happen, there'll be a call to arms and there I'll be, but I think I ought to just give myself closure. Sort my life out; get everything in order, start a family, fade into obscurity.
That sounds nice.

I should also mention my friends. Probably burdened by my constant need to be helped. I wonder how many friendships involve a clergyman and a businessman; probably more than I think, but questioning everything I can is a good trait to have. A lot of them were 'strange' sorts. I wonder how she's doing. Did she finally score with the man of her dreams? Secure the marriage etc. etc. etc. An inventor's a good fit for a big business. Speaking of businessmen, I wonder how Yakin's doing. I hope he finally found happiness. Whether with or without the woman he was looking for. Maybe he could get a good night's sleep at last. Who else, who else... There's Walter. I hope I haven't made his life hell; with my constant flailing and crying and bawling an cries for help. Maybe he'll finally find peace. Or something greater than it; peace is all around us, anyone could pick it up like a pebble and collect it, or just throw it away.

Speaking of; I'm impressed at how long I've spent dying. Not literally, but I'm pretty sure at least one of my past selves would want it like that. And then I got shoved around and bullied and here I am. Every school should install a bully? Probably not, would likely leave a lot of damaged children and broken souls. There's enough trouble with education as-is and life in less-fortunate places (Not naming names, just look over the horizon) do the job enough.

...All these words, and I've yet to actually give myself closure. Talk to someone that really matters in my life and tie off the loose end.

I just hope I don't end up like Wilson.

Either way, I think I should close this off.
I was never good at writing endings.