I’ll keep this brief: This is as much a personal account as it is a case study and a consistently upheld commitment to confess to all deeds from here on out performed; dastardly, heroic, in-between. In reading, you have agreed to meet the standard. The most recent of those deeds: the title that caught your eye and took you all this way. You can see it's meant to dishonestly give the impression that what you’re holding in your potentially metaphorical hands is a piece of entertainment. This iteration of The Work went through many titles but as it stands the list includes at least as many as those who lent The Work their minds had; likely more. I have run the gamut of honesty versus appeal. I settled on an appealing lie in the end, and on the matter of my moral fiber you may now draw conclusions. You are owners, now, of The Work, and you will run the same gamut when you need to, sequentially, by turns. For admitting what has happened and predicting what will happen, you will be granted power quite neatly nested within description. But once you have discarded a name, it cannot be recovered.
I basically turned this bit of writing into an RPG without meaning to. it’s mostly an exercise in purple-ish prose and lacking in many details I had to prune for the word count, which would’ve made it easier to see the mechanics implied. I don’t expect to win, rather I expect to easily be dismissed by any judge worth their salt as a pretentious hack with no skill.
I kinda feel like owning the title, at least till the next crossroads, when I’ll have to wheedle the person sitting to the right of me to change it to something cooler, like “Dankerest Souls: The Revlarening” or something equally silly. I wonder what kind of challenges the next title will inspire me to meet and overcome.