Call me Acetone

i wish i could call this "a tale from my youth" but i don't think i ever really stopped doing it, i think churches just tend to have particularly interesting ceilings/rafters. it was usually this or the hookshot/clawshots from zelda.

Bored out of my mind. It’s a European classical church design with a steep snow roof, 35c and I’m sweating an ocean. The old irish men next to me reek of whiskey and I already got in trouble for saying they smelt like cleaning chemicals. The only thing to do to not think about how hot it was is to imagine Spyro flying around the rafters.

However, I would hesitate in calling it a good finale.

I get the whole idea of catharsis being something only in stories and why what happened is in support of a catharsis but also like… it felt cynical in a way.