Chapatrap,
Timemaster
Especially having read three of the books so far, I feel like it made the game even more rewarding.
Everything has blurred together into this boring, grey pile of horseshit.
Food is unpleasant. I'm in constant physical pain, due to how my bones have grown. I can't look at anything without instantly pointing out its errors. It's difficult to become involved with other people, and to find positive qualities in them. Sleep is just a temporary pause from the insufferable stretch of wakefulness, and the dreams I remember only remind me of that. My mind stains entertainment by obsessively pointing out all of its gaping plot holes. Everything I want to do to help the world is either being done by people that are more capable and successful than me, or won't be possible until humanity is at a point where my efforts won't even matter. When I try to give advice that will help others with their problems, they tend to ignore it, mock it, or make weak excuses. The only person I have romantic feelings for has grown distant, and it's increasingly obvious they don't give a shit about me anymore.
So yeah, fuck my life.
