When I look up, I'm not exactly
Sure of what I see.
But all the time I know that
There's a shadow over me.
It's not remotely pleasant,
Sure it's a common occurence.
Can't think about the present.
Just craving more endurance...
So here I am. 18 years old and trying to figure out what to do with nodeshells I run into. This pastime is like an incredible form of self torture, or maybe a serious intellectual challenge. But, and I promise in the future, that I will indeed begin to write nodeshells I run into on a scrap of paper. Yes. I may even make a few nodeshells myself, so as to see if they ever become filled. Earlier today, I accidentally created SILICA! SILICA! SILICA! silica makes you strong! strength crushes enemies! SILICA! when I bumped into the link and then clicked on the thing. A little while later, I found out about how barbarous nodeshells can be, so I went back to correct the problem. In an admirable fashion too.
Anyway, referring to my nodeshell scrap that I plan on creating, I shall put it in a box and name it Steve. It will go wherever I go. Sit where I sit, lean when I lean, move when I move, and drink when I drink (you get the picture). I hope to be able to make a dent in the rampant nodeshellization of the everything community, and as far as finding topics when you don't have anything to write about, this is as good an idea as any.
So this Steve, this... list of Nodeshells. I ask myself, will it be good? Or will it be evil?
If it is good, it will save me from the drudgeries of writing about pants all the time. It will help me to avoid numerous video game posts and possibly the death of my precious nodes. It shall enlighten me and help me to enlighten those around me. It will be a glowing source of the light of knowledge where I may merely gaze upon it to recieve inspiration outclassed only by divinity. This scrap of paper could be my own personal savior.
On the other hand... if the list is evil, it could constrain me, through vast amounts of drab nodeshell dross, to posting about mind-numbing topics like hats and hatboxes and hatatooie. It would chain me to the meaning and interpretation of The Big Book of Chemical Studies... and while all this occurred to me, I would become more and more enthralled with it. I would lovingly sit and become a mindless, post-happy, everything drone. If this were to happen... I hope, that with my last scruple, my only desperate iota of humanity, my clinging sense of self worth, the idea that I should be free to do what I love would help me to burn that scrap of paper.