In case you just groaned "oh no," out of the conviction that I will never finish this fuckin' thing, well, first, thanks for your solidarity. I worry about that all the time. Second, I'm pretty sure that this will haunt me to the grave if I don't complete it, so at some point punctuality will have to triumph over perfectionism... you know, when it's ready.
And while I can't give you an exact time frame, I can give the perseverant among you a completely idiotic sampling of information that might hold clues to when this will happen, like a trail of crumbs leading to the local dump. For starters, I just spent the last six months realizing three things: 1.) For having been alive for 23 years, I know an incredible amount of absolutely nothing; 2.) "Finding yourself" is a really versatile term. Apparently, I was at the bottom of a glass of vodka and in a pile of smoldering roaches this entire time. Glamorous! 3.) God really probably doesn't exist.
On top of that, I have accumulated a truly stunning number of things to drive me into a deep, dark hole of cynicism -- my reward for living in a third world country and finally taking an interest in American politics and the DSM IV, I guess -- including the realization that, my God, I spent a lot of time with incredibly misguided "New Age" ideals. (In retrospect, I guess it isn't too surprising that dolphins and people who really like "The Secret" don't hold the key to solving the world's problems.)
Ultimately, what I'm saying is that, if possible, I'd like to channel this dark, heavy malaise into finishing Fallout, so hopefully the end result will be worth the wait for you, and the immense, existential pain for me.
Cheers!
Andrew Macauley
