Waiting for Sherlock Series 3

I effing hate Moffat.

We’ve waited for so long. Waited for Sherlock to show that he’s not dead and to kick some more ass with his beloved Watson. GODAMNIT!

Waiting for series 3 is like waiting for the ‘apocalypse’. Do you know when it will finally arrive? No. Do you know if your life is ever going to be the same again after it? No. I’m sure Tumblr has done a much better job of articulating this, and I know I’m not the only one in the fandom. But filming has finished. Can we finally get Benedict Cumberbatch back in a long coat and blue scarf? Oh, and of course, John’s moustache. I think everyone wants an explanation, as to why his way of dealing with the grief of losing his best friend is growing facial hair, that borders on flattering and disturbing.

Sometimes, I love the people who manage to turn something intended for the last century, Victorian era, and make it an obsession for the youths of the 21st century. But do you know what?! It’s damn hard waiting for something that doesn’t have an end. It’s like running around a Mobius strip. We wait months and what do we get? A trailer. A seconds long trailer that gives us nothing more than a glimpse of only the beginning of many viewings.

Of course, let’s not forget my Benaddiction!

If this was a thing like Jedi is a religion in the Census. I’d select it. No questions asked.

If every day we spent waiting for the next season to arrive was equated to tears we’ve shed for the fandom, we’d have enough liquid to drown Moffat. Painfully.

And you know what?

Give us Sherlock and no one (else) will get hurt.

~ Persephone