Hey, everyone.
Book 1 has ended. Yay, a whole book was drafted in a month!
Now, Robert has reached the peak of his first star. He's ready to ascend but is holding back.
What do you think will be Robert's ascended talent? How would 1% Life's Real evolve?
Leave your guess in the comments below.
Thank you for reading.
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Is this 500 characters already? I have no idea.
Let's paste one of my favorite poems ever.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
BEAT! BEAT! DRUMS!
BY WALT WHITMAN, 1861
> Beat! beat! drums! Blow! bugles! blow!
>
> Through the windows, through the doors—burst like a force — of armed men,
>
> Into the solemn church, and scatter the congregation
>
> Into the school where the scholar is studying
>
> Leave not the bridegroom quiet—no happiness must he — have now with his bride
>
> Nor the peaceful farmer any peace plowing his field or — gathering his grain
>
> So fierce you whirr and pound, you drums—so shrill you — bugles blow.
>
> Beat! beat! drums! Blow! bugles! blow!
>
> Over the traffic of cities—over the rumble of wheels in — the streets
>
> Are beds prepared for sleepers at night in the houses? — No sleepers must sleep in those beds
>
> No bargainers' bargains by day—no brokers or speculators. — Would they continue?
>
> Would the talkers be talking? would the singer attempt — to sing?
>
> Would the lawyer rise in the court to state his case before — the judge?
>
> Then rattle quicker, heavier drums—and bugles wilder — blow.
> Beat! beat! drums! Blow! bugles! blow!
>
> Make no parley—stop for no expostulation
>
> Mind not the timid—mind not the weeper or prayer
>
> Mind not the old man beseeching the young man
>
> Let not the child's voice be heard, nor the mother's en- — treaties. Recruit! recruit!
>
> Make the very trestles shake under the dead, where they — lie in their shrouds awaiting the hearses.
>
> So strong you thump, O terrible drums—so loud you bugles blow.