At the time of this post, it was December 14, 2019 at 08:00PM
Knowing Trump, he’s probably an imported Russian poison like Novichok (Новичок).
For @milkcartkid !
The entire LU crew finally makes an appearance here
Jody Whittaker, thirteenth Doctor Who
Sarah Jane Smith (Elisabeth Sladen)
With golden speck in the eye. You are captured in the heart.
At the time of this post, it was December 14, 2019 at 04:00PM
i want to make time illegal. who’s with me
There lived a man named Time.
Who owned so many clocks, he counted differently each time he died. Whether he died twice or thrice or any time of day mattered to himself. Because almost everything was a matter of time. Who was he, himself but also she. For no one really knew. What time could be.
So the man named Time married a woman named Faith, who did not count the seconds but waited instead. This, as many things were, became a short affair. For Time worried much when Faith was not there. He mistrusted, distrusted, misunderstood, overly understood. So when Faith fell in sickness, when Time could not trust her, he had an affair with woman named Watch.
The woman named Watch, another short term, followed Time’s counting, day after day. But soon Time was annoyed, for she nothing for she was nothing but void. And did nothing when he died twice or thrice. So when Watch stopped repeating, he had a rendezvous with a man named Coincidence.
He was very spontaneous. Laughed less, smiled more. And Time often found, strange things lying ‘round. It was his shortest and briefest affair, for Coincidence met another without explanation.
“It was such strange moment. But I’m very glad it happened.”
And that was the last Time saw of him.
A very strange moment indeed.
By this time, Faith had become so very ill. Leaving Time so very bitter, he mistrusted, misunderstood, scoffed, and glared. Had more short affairs. Had more unending stress.
And so much was his worry, and strife and stress. Affairs here and there, enemies everywhere. That when Faith died, he burned every clock and changed his name to Despair.
Nothing was right. Nothing was thorough. Autumn meant death, Winter meant sorrow. He changed and unchanged. Over and over. And spent less and less time, ever being sober.