Someone wise might understand this intuitively. I speak more in the sense of someone clawing desperately at the bathroom mirror in the too-early hours of morning, hair and forehead caked in grease and sweat,

It's okay if it's inconsistent. It's okay if it's messy, it's okay if it's sketch. The rough edges make it yours. Keep trying to make it perfect and you'll be trying forever.

It's like he's getting older, in proportion – how you've textured his fluff lately, and the darker colors, makes him appear more rugged.

There's something to the way you style the fur around his legs that calls Zeraora to mind.

Doing everything you can for the man you want but can never have, because at least he'll have been happy, at least you'll have been happy, at least there will be you to thank for it. What you had in the months that remained was bright and beautiful and real. Do you understand?

It's working the tram while around you the world falls to sickness, because you've worked it for 20-odd years and hell if you're going to let something like "the end" stop you from doing what you love.

Getting a fancy car, tuning it up, racing in the Australian Grand Prix because you *wanted* to...

—It's lamenting the rabbits who will outlive you and ruin your crops after you go in September. Do you understand? Do you understand?

This all I said before, but I wanted to repeat. Do you understand?

Rambley....

I'd discussed with a friend – BG3's photo mode was devastating, especially modded to add more lighting and poses. It was all I spent time doing. It was very fun, but there came a point playing the game felt *wrong.* Are you certain I'm not supposed to be playing dolls?

An end is coming for reasons outside of your control, science will not defy the odds, no military man will survive and make everything okay, but life will keep going, and when the time comes, everyone goes exactly how they want to. Nobody leaves unfulfilled. It's an optimistic view of the end.

Only a little bit,