the stylus swipes ever on and on…

At another time I might like to explore the question of whose final scenes hurt more: Tidus or Solas. (Yes, this may be sacrilege to some of you, but come on. I was 15 at the time, and FFX’s release schedule meant most of us likely finished it in the paranoid, anthrax-ridden, armchair general-dominated months just after 9/11, meaning we could use it as a conduit for other, less contained, hurts. Allow us one-time DC kids that.)

At the moment, however, my activity tracker informs me that I have had all of 4 hours 22 minutes of sleep. So I’m just going to rest–snore, even–on the laurels of this new highest score in Theatrhythm, and in the immortal words of Samuel L. Jackson, go the fuck to sleep.

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