Recant: Formally reject or disavow a formerly held belief
Has he come yet? Who? The one who will save us from this interminable damnation. He who is foretold in all of the prophecies young and old who will shine holy fire to those who so go against his word. Have you no word of him? He is told to come, I know it, I believe it, everyone so believes it, and so, it must be true. He will save us from this painful existence, and he will bring us to salvation, if not him, then who? I will wait for all that is good in this world until he who is destined to save us descend upon this mortal realm. When is he coming? I have waited all my life for him, and yet, he has not come. We have waited patiently for his arrival. Will he not come answer our prayers? Where is he? It can’t be, he will come. We will wait, until the day we die. Has he come yet? Is that so? We will wait, until the very last breath we take, to see him save our souls from this place of rot. It is so that he will never come. I can see that now. No matter how long we wait, he will not save us from this existence. We will die in peace.
Recalcitrant: Stubbornly resistant to authority or control
I’m a run-on sentence, which means that if I don’t create new words, I’ll eventually stop, but, grammatically, I’m the worst enemy of every high school teacher and the demise of every university student, and by all means, despite how tiring it might be to have a person read me with all of the haughtily placed punctuations to continue my existence, I am grateful that I can exist as an entity, after all, run-on sentences aren’t always the enemy to all literary mankind, no, there are many instances where a run-on sentence can be quite useful, for example, if one were to need to indicate a stream of consciousness then of course a run-on sentence would be used since a stream of consciousness is just that a stream of consciousness and nothing more nothing less it’s a collection of words and things that come together to try and string a cohesive thought and nothing less raw and more stringent can perfectly encapsulate what it is to be a human than the chaos and rush of a run-on sentence so much so that if I were to ever find myself in the bounds of a period I would hate it to the point or rebelling against the one who created me.
Paucity: An insufficient quantity or number
There is a shortage of. A dearth of. A minuscule amount. Too little. Not enough. We need more. That’s only a fraction of what we need. That’s a minute amount. Half empty. Half full. Requiring more. That stock is too tiny. What we need is lowering. Gather more. Our shares are plummeting. The world’s water supply is growing short. Our stocks are short. That’s it? That’s barely a pint. Error, please input a value greater than zero. You can’t pay? The mortgage is killing you? The taxes aren’t high enough? Oh, no, it is. We don’t have enough funding? The fundraiser won’t go through? Not enough people registered? There isn’t enough land? There isn’t enough crops? What do you mean not everyone will have a home? We won’t make it to mars? How much heads do they want? We won’t be able to make it anyway, we’re not killers. We won’t make the play offs? They don’t have enough starters? At first, there weren’t enough examples for the point to be made, and as thus, I guess you could say, that when I first began this thing, there was a paucity of examples.
Palliative: Moderating pain or sorrow by making it easier to bear
What are you doing? Cutting away half your heart. Why would you do that? So that I can share half a heart with you. Why would that be necessary? So that the tears you cry, and the screams that erupt no longer feel as full. You’re going to cut away half my heart to do that? Is it too much? No. No, it’s fine, but, that means you’ll feel half of the urges. The urges? Along with my dismay, you’ll have to experience with me everything that I experience. That means, whenever I’m sad, or angry, or want to shove a knife down my throat, you’ll have to suffer through the same emotions. It won’t be that bad. It’ll only be half. You’ll have to live every single day in complete agony as your mind will tell you things that you’ll never want to hear. Is that how it is with you? Yes. It is. I’ve always been alone like this, feeling like the world has its shoulders on me, crushing my bones. Now, it’ll crush both of us. Exactly, so you– But, that’s how science works. You spread force across a larger surface and the damage is lessened. You’re the first person to ever help me. I won’t be the last. How can you be so sure? Because half of a half, isn’t so bad.
Obloquy: State of disgrace resulting from public abuse
I trudged my way through the streets with marks of red lining my entire body. With every step I took I felt like my feet were melting into the pavement. My entire body yearned to have it be melded into the very Earth it stood upon for it no longer wanted to be known. I began to lose myself in a world that only existed within me and was only brought out by the sounds of cars and rushing civilians. With every pair of eyes that found its way onto my body I began to sink deeper and deeper within my own mind, trying to find a place of sanctum. My breathing began fluctuating, and my body threatened to break out of its mold and find itself as a shell of indetermination shaped only by the thralls of everyone around me. I reached over to the red marks that lined my body. They stung in the warm embrace of my fingers, and yet, when I focused long enough, the marks disappeared. They disappeared in the whispers and stares of those around me, and they disappeared in the air of humanity that flew from point a to b. I sighed and began fingering a hole in my jacket, scoffed at the dusty smell that lingered on my person, and began to walk towards the nearest restaurant.
Obfuscate: Make obscure or unclear
What did he say? You don’t know? Why don’t you know? You can’t say? Is it good? Or is it bad? You don’t know? Well, is it good in terms of the situation? Good? Then that’s good. But it still isn’t that good, right? I guess not. It’s pretty bad then, if he can’t stand up. His legs? Oh yeah…And his arms too right? I don’t know, it was pretty dark out. Lights? Out. Twenty, twenty five, yeah, something like that. Drunk? Not really, it was a hour on the dot, I watched the hand. Yeah, the other man bit the dust. He was going fifty-five, drunk as all hell. To the left, we dodged a bullet but ate a rock. It’s fine, no need, you said it’s good right? Yeah, I mean, we probably don’t need to worry about that. I contacted them, they’re more worried about this than the war. I know, thank god. Do you know when he’ll be able to move? I guess not.