60. Purple prose, Bridge-style~
Sep. 7th, 2009 10:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
handy_psychicIt amazes me how my brain, so complex and full of nooks and crannies and gray matter and various thoughts all merging together into one complicated stream running throughout my consciousness, can be tuned to one simple idea upon waking.
Oh, sure, I awoke with much on my mind, as I so often do, because it is filled with thoughts of my loved ones, thoughts of my situation in life, thoughts of the Sphere we live in and all of its randomness, and the causes and logic behind it- not that there CAN be much logic behind a place called Edensphere, I mean, really, considering how much weird stuff happens here, our clothes chaging and our houses turning into Legos and the Wilderness changing into at least two completely different places per 30 days, and of course there's the whole being born naked from a cocoon with no memories thing, well I wouldn't say no memories because we have our dreams except our dreams aren't necessarily memories, are they? I guess for some of us they are but for some of us they aren't...
... where was I? I began with talking about my brain and now I'm on Edensphere and the complete illogicalness of it even though I try to find logic where there is none.
Ah, yes. That single thought I became fixated on this morining. Upon waking, I took a look at myself, clad in pyjamas of soft blue fabric imprinted with pieces of brown toast, and was taken with an incessant craving for that wonderful yet simple meal consisting of toasted bread. Thereafter, I threw off my sheets of purest azure and foresty green, pushed myself out of my comfortable futon, slipped my feet into slippers of emerald green, and proceeded to walk into the kitchen of the apartment I share with Sky and myself. Sky, faithful Guard that he is, was of course already long gone. It does not help that I slept until such a late hour, of course, but he exemplifies "early to bed, early to rise". Logan Sparky McRuffles the Second, that fine but ever-glitchy robotic dog of my own creation, was playing ball with himself by tossing it against the wall, catching it, then repeating that method and causing quite a clatter in the process, making me wonder how on Earth I managed to stay asleep and dreaming during such a racket.
I then proceeded to find the bag of bread we keep stored as a part of our food supply, open it, and take a few pieces of bread in my hands, both clad in pieces of stitched-together black leather. I then inserted those soft pieces of baked dough into the toaster, pressed the button, and went on to find the butter, cinnamon and sugar. My preference for toppings on my tasty toast tends to vary by the day; sometimes I want chicken toast, that wonderful invention of toast covered with seasoning that is flavored like a certain type of poulty; sometimes my desires are more tuned toward the simple and classic butter; but today my taste buds were inclined to crave the bit of sweetness and tastiness that only the combination of cinnamon and sugar can provide.
I waited eagerly, my stomach beginning to make gurgly and groany noises from hunger, tapping my begloved hands on the sturdy countertop, before the process of heating the bread and causing it to turn brown and crispy was finally complete and the toast popped up out of the device. Swiftly, before the heat left it and the toast was too cool to melt butter, I took a knife and applied butter from the small container and then proceeded to coat all of the pieces of toasted bread with a fine dusting of the cinnamon and sugar.
Preparation of my meal complete, I went over to the table in our small living/dining area, pulled back a chair, seated myself, and scooted back in, pondering what to do with the rest of my day. After being focused on one simple thought, that of the preparation of breakfast, that most important first meal of the day which gives me a lot of energy (at least until lunch comes around), my thoughts immediately became complex and nuanced again.
There are ways in which my life and my well-being can yet be improved, in spite of the efforts I have already been making to do so, and I have spent much time pondering these ways over the past week or so. There is a decision I am close to making, but it still requires more thinking, which I shall now do, once I change from my toast-printed pyjamas into something more acceptable for going out into the public.
[[TL;DR translation: I had cinnamonsugar toast for breakfast and now I have a lot of thinking to do.]]
Oh, sure, I awoke with much on my mind, as I so often do, because it is filled with thoughts of my loved ones, thoughts of my situation in life, thoughts of the Sphere we live in and all of its randomness, and the causes and logic behind it- not that there CAN be much logic behind a place called Edensphere, I mean, really, considering how much weird stuff happens here, our clothes chaging and our houses turning into Legos and the Wilderness changing into at least two completely different places per 30 days, and of course there's the whole being born naked from a cocoon with no memories thing, well I wouldn't say no memories because we have our dreams except our dreams aren't necessarily memories, are they? I guess for some of us they are but for some of us they aren't...
... where was I? I began with talking about my brain and now I'm on Edensphere and the complete illogicalness of it even though I try to find logic where there is none.
Ah, yes. That single thought I became fixated on this morining. Upon waking, I took a look at myself, clad in pyjamas of soft blue fabric imprinted with pieces of brown toast, and was taken with an incessant craving for that wonderful yet simple meal consisting of toasted bread. Thereafter, I threw off my sheets of purest azure and foresty green, pushed myself out of my comfortable futon, slipped my feet into slippers of emerald green, and proceeded to walk into the kitchen of the apartment I share with Sky and myself. Sky, faithful Guard that he is, was of course already long gone. It does not help that I slept until such a late hour, of course, but he exemplifies "early to bed, early to rise". Logan Sparky McRuffles the Second, that fine but ever-glitchy robotic dog of my own creation, was playing ball with himself by tossing it against the wall, catching it, then repeating that method and causing quite a clatter in the process, making me wonder how on Earth I managed to stay asleep and dreaming during such a racket.
I then proceeded to find the bag of bread we keep stored as a part of our food supply, open it, and take a few pieces of bread in my hands, both clad in pieces of stitched-together black leather. I then inserted those soft pieces of baked dough into the toaster, pressed the button, and went on to find the butter, cinnamon and sugar. My preference for toppings on my tasty toast tends to vary by the day; sometimes I want chicken toast, that wonderful invention of toast covered with seasoning that is flavored like a certain type of poulty; sometimes my desires are more tuned toward the simple and classic butter; but today my taste buds were inclined to crave the bit of sweetness and tastiness that only the combination of cinnamon and sugar can provide.
I waited eagerly, my stomach beginning to make gurgly and groany noises from hunger, tapping my begloved hands on the sturdy countertop, before the process of heating the bread and causing it to turn brown and crispy was finally complete and the toast popped up out of the device. Swiftly, before the heat left it and the toast was too cool to melt butter, I took a knife and applied butter from the small container and then proceeded to coat all of the pieces of toasted bread with a fine dusting of the cinnamon and sugar.
Preparation of my meal complete, I went over to the table in our small living/dining area, pulled back a chair, seated myself, and scooted back in, pondering what to do with the rest of my day. After being focused on one simple thought, that of the preparation of breakfast, that most important first meal of the day which gives me a lot of energy (at least until lunch comes around), my thoughts immediately became complex and nuanced again.
There are ways in which my life and my well-being can yet be improved, in spite of the efforts I have already been making to do so, and I have spent much time pondering these ways over the past week or so. There is a decision I am close to making, but it still requires more thinking, which I shall now do, once I change from my toast-printed pyjamas into something more acceptable for going out into the public.
[[TL;DR translation: I had cinnamonsugar toast for breakfast and now I have a lot of thinking to do.]]
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
WOOO
Date: 2009-09-07 04:22 pm (UTC)I myself was fortunate enough to find Logan broken up into various pieces in the Scavengers' Yard whilst going about the daily duties required by my profession as a Scavenger. I slowly gathered these pieces, keeping them in my house, cleaning them and putting them together where I could, and along the way, much to my surprise, I received a Memory Crystal whilst out foraging for sustenance one day that showed me the process by which I could re-assemble him! Activating him was one of the proudest moments of my entire extistence in Edensphere, even if he does stubbornly refuse my attempts to make him act as a proper dog!
TL;DR time ahoy!
Date: 2009-09-07 04:29 pm (UTC)But I digress. Throughout all this, there is one thing to which I am certain. The robot dog that I knew did not have a name as unique, flamboyant, and remarkable as 'Logan Sparky McRuffles the Second'. I believe the dog that I was familiar with had a shorter, much more apropo name-that, once again, I cannot call forth from the depths of my memory.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-07 04:40 pm (UTC)I am very pleased to hear that I have unintentionally assisted in helping you find another piece of the puzzle that is your past, even if it may not be much help right now. Perhaps if you are lucky, you will be like me and find your robotic friend in the Scavengers' Yard sometime soon?
no subject
Date: 2009-09-07 09:12 pm (UTC)I sincerely hope that I do find my robotic friend. It would be marvelous if I found something of a little bit of use in the Scavengers' Yard instead of my usual, droll finds of such things as broken appliances and unworkable creations. Only a few of these things are able to be fixed and thus can be taken home by me.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-07 09:52 pm (UTC)Indeed, the Scavengers' Yard is full of broken things, but I manage to find useful things in there all the time. It helps, of course, that I am capable of repairing things, so I actually do quite a good business and enjoy going diving for new things.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-07 10:03 pm (UTC)I am capable of repairing things too. It took myself getting used to the technology offered here, but I am happy to say that I quickly found out how to work it and what not to do. However, that does not change the fact that my luck in finding workable items is decidedly rotten.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-07 11:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-08 03:26 am (UTC)