To be a fan of dimension 20 is to be locked in a full theatre of a mind experience even after you finish watching episodes.
Because you see edits with characters interaction and truly believe in romance and drama but for an outsider it's just one irish man flirting with his friends and shouting at them constantly.
Translation: Sometimes, you need a friend to talk to when you're at work, especially about some recent tender feelings that were neither expected nor prepared for. It has been a bad time, and everyone who says it will get better is lying. I cannot sleep. It has taken me forty-five minutes to write the past four sentences.
SORRY sorry. i need a minute. i just remembered hob was never really written originally to fall in love, and that at the same time that in-fiction hob was taken off guard by what he began to feel for rue, at-table brennan himself had been blindsided by what was unfolding. hob was meant to be a plothound. a benevolent busybody. a sleuth. for hob's writer, his creator and god, love was never considered as a part of his story, and yet it came to him anyway. and yet it slipped in through the space between the periods in his name. and yet it found him in the dark cold of his tent and held him in warm arms. k.p. hob is a character who, pulled gently by the hand of another, stumbles, falls, and then runs away from the future that had been imagined for him. what a thing a story can be when it's cracked open by love.
Why Tumblr? Why do you, an actual celebrity, a famous writer, use Tumblr of all websites?
(The actual celebrity and famous writer sits back in his rocking chair, surveys the world of Tumblr, from his porch. He chews meditatively on a straw, and then he says:)
TACAFW: Y'see, I've been here for nigh on twelve years now, which in new-fangled internet years is about four hundred years... yup, I remember when all this wuz just folks trading photos of cats, and I remember when over there, where it's now just waste land, that whole part of town was whut we used to call 'Not safe for work" -- hooey, I don't know where those folks went, when they got driv out of town -- but me, through those twelve years, I've just been in this old rockin' chair on this old porch, and I've seen 'em come and I've seen 'em go... I guess I mus' just' like it here...
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