Unedited Requiem (Chapter 1)

"You comprise the story, filtering out perception from delivery and reregistering assumptions. Eyeing the display, you register the time stamp. It was attack. They had no chance, no choice and from the duration start to extinction the enemy was already close and unrelentingly capably"

Totally agree, bro. The way I see it (I'm a writer-sophont-being too), is that my work aims to superimpose electronically-melodic idioms with operatically-textural processes whilst denying certain passages or periodic leitmotifs. My choral collaborations have led me to explore the apparent potential of reactions and oppositions, and recreate the creation of situations in which the premiering of a transcription has the potential to sense all sorts of post-Webern echo-tetrachords. My latest composition explores the boundaries between clusters and reverberations, whilst utilising a highly contrasting attitude to a traditional, textual speaker. For performers, I find that a slightly sequential approach can often help to sense postmodern resonators - or in some cases, even abandon the reverberation in question. I was first introduced to the concept of 'similarly-stylistic experience-ensembles' last year, and it has allowed me a greater depth of vibrations, especially whilst studying the ultimate hemiola. It is of paramount importance that octatonic, thematic resonator-movements must never be allowed to become generative, or atonally complex.

This came so close to being something interesting. Perhaps if the author had just put a bit more effort into some kind of meaningful plot rather than stringing words from a thesaurus together until they nearly lose meaning. There's a time and a place for elaborate language, but as a rule you want to use it to enhance or clarify the ideas you're trying to communicate rather than obfuscate them.

Then there's the realization that the author doesn't understand the difference between your and you're, and its and it's, which I ran into immediately (see: the very first sentence and first paragraph of the story) and just has a way of making you lose confidence in much of what follows.

I am sorry but I don't understand anything. The words sound pretty and flow like in a surrealist poem. But It has no sense I can't understand. Probably, It is my fault for being not native, so I recommend your advice at the beginning that your game is only for advanced readers.

Where to start?

First, the good: In a few places, the rhythm of the language spills like free-form poetry. It's alliterative, evocative, provocative, and intriguing. I found it helped to imagine I was a poet at open mic night, as emphasizing the words as if reciting them aloud actually helped make sense of them.

The bad:

- Much of the work is unintelligible. Even the areas where there seems to be some natural sense of poetry and it reaches to describe the indescribable, bag grammar and clunky phrasing frequently obscure any sense of what is actually happening.

- This really needed a good proofreading, or five. Errors like it's instead of its, and where vs. were, were common. There were many sentence fragments. Overall, it read like something translated through several languages in a game of ultimate telephone, then finally translated back to English in a mangled, mutant form.

- Painful, painful dialogue. This sci-fi at least attempts something flighty and surreal, where the mundane is dreamlike. Yet anytime someone spoke, or thought, it was rough, casual, and full of swear words.

- Death is pretty random. There aren't pros and cons stated or implied in the text, so options end up pretty much being a coin toss as to whether you die/end game or move forward. The very first choice in the game is a prime example of this problem.

- It ends just as a semblance of a plot has started. You explore a spaceship (I think...) and meet someone and have some pretty psychedelic dreams. That's about it.

This was pretty close to being words strung together at random.