I was kind of knocked down by the news about the sir Terry Pratchett's death. Deep inside I kind of believed that despite all he would live, I don't know, longer than me and write 50 more books for the world to enjoy.
That man dramatically changed my view of literature and life in general, I can't express how grateful I am, I--
Well, I even cried a little when I found that out, and I am totally not ashamed.
And well, just as the saying goes, instead of being sad 'cause it's over I am happy it happened.
Or not. Or both. I don't know. Both, I guess.