I have nothing to write anymore...
And why do you say that?
Don't know, my mind feels empty.
All the time.
Is it true, or you just fill you head with so many things,
But you don't know how to draw them out anymore?
Possibly. I always conk out before I could finish my last sentence.
Just like right now?
Yes. See, I don't even know how to end this.
May I ask, why do you write again?
I don't know, maybe to express a thought? To mark a memory?
To weave words so they would become music to one's ears?
Too pompous don't you think?
No it isn't. *sighs*
Just admit that this is your way of confession:
To put some distance between your dreams and frustrations.
You can think of it that way, but I won't agree.
Because this is a much better life?
Lull...
Anyway, let me shake this blues a bit.
Anyway, let me shake this blues a bit.
Why did I return here in the first place?
Ummm because this is your home?
Ahh, the planetship?
Yes.
But can't you see, I'm already a satellite.
Let me clarify, a planetship that orbits a world.
Yes.
Well then, Mister Satellite. How do you wish to resolve this?
Do you still want to write?
Let's see. I'm doing this to fill the space.
And?
Let this serve as a temporal bridge before I finally decide
To disappear or not..
Okay.
I'm glad you're seeing it that way.
I say let's end this monologue now before he returns to the subconscious.
Agree
And let him drift to his destination.
Agree.
We will write without reasons
And pretend that nobody's reading
Okay
If time comes we don't find this exercise helpful anymore.
Uh huh.
We will disappear, without saying a word.
Okay.
So that when we finally decide to weave words again.
This beacon remains, floating among the stars.
Self-dialogue borrowed
from the Spiralprince.