Around midday. That’s when it started.

With a great flash the sky opened up and from the rift massive tentacles slithered
forth, translucent streams that wrapped around everything.

And amidst the showers of glass and concrete, something about the whole thing feels
strangely comforting, as if this was the inevitable ending.

The last of the world comes a part now all of it just tumbling down, tumbling down.


Random thing. Also I should watch Evangelion again.

What I listened to as I wrote this:

I’ll figure it out.


It has been some time since the last big feed. His constant reminders make me
aware of that.

I reassure him that it will not be long. That he must practice patience. When the
moon rises, then it will be time. I think he listens.

Something stirs in the streets. Lamentations, and netherworld growls. And there,
high in the night, a pale blood moon.

The night will be long, and beasts are plentiful. We can take our time here. We can
make it last.

So here we are, trudging home, the morning light glistening on the mess of blood and
sinew. The great sword has fed, and heartily so.


All Bloodborne. All the time.

What I listened to as I wrote this:

More Japanese podcasts.


And from the ocean they shamble forth, salt crusted hulks of sinew and spines
carrying great axes of leviathan bone and hammers of deep ocean rock. Having
advanced upon the many castles of the kingdom they rend them asunder, the dust
scattering in the wind. And with their violence and fury not sated, they move
further inland.

Then the rain dripped through the roof, rousing me from sleep. And so I move to
a dry corner and seek sleep once more so they may finish their work and the
kingdom can be rebuilt a new.

In dream of course. For everything is in dream.


What I listened to as I wrote this:

Trying to make engaging with the Japanese language consistent. That should help.


I had to go back out there. I couldn’t leave that thing out there. A moment to
regain my composure. Another to put locate my helmet. Catching sight of myself on
my blood marked sword, there’s a mix of anxiety, fear and yet, something below all
that, simmers with hope, and brightness. I’d need that, before stepping out into the

I stumbled out of the castle, practically broken, clutching my side. Groups had
gathered with swords drawn, eyes filled with rage. They closed in, but they didn’t
matter. I held the bloody cape aloft. All of them knew of its significance, my
achievement. Falling to their knees, swords hit the ground. I made my way through
the throng, and then out of here.


A result of playing Salt and Sanctuary.

What I listened to as I wrote this:

Maybe I’ll keep learning Japanese. It would be nice to know.


There’s lot’s to ruminate on.

When the thing broke my leg. When it snapped my arm in half. The many wounds
and scars it has inflicted. When it sent me flying from the bridge, leaving both
body and soul crippled. And the indignity of being carried to safety, robbed of my
own power. That burned for the longest.

All of these moments suddenly come together in a thick haze, halting me for a
moment. The beast lay there, howling, cradling the blood splattered fracture
that once passed for a rib cage. Brushing the memories aside, I raise the axe
on high, and finish the arc deep in its skull, sending blood everywhere.

And there I stand, plastered in crimson, filled with the joy catharsis brings.
But it won’t last for long. There’s always more beasts to slaughter.


I’ve been playing Bloodborne. Lot’s of Bloodborne. Unhealthy amounts even. But it’s so good, so very, very, very good.

What I listened to as I wrote this:

I keep trying to learn Japanese. I try to listen something everyday, just to keep the language in my mind. I do struggle with motivation right now.