“We are nothing but dust to them—our bodies, our actions, even our words.”
—Jori En, expedition leader, text on "Horribly Awry"

---

Jori En is a merfolk native to Zendikar, and she is one of the figures that fought against the Eldrazi, a threat that all Zendikari feared at that time.

‎Fear.
‎"Fear", huh?

‎The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines it as such:

‎- an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger, an instance of this emotion, or a state marked by this emotion
‎- anxious concern : solicitude
‎- profound reverence and awe, especially toward God
‎- reason for alarm : danger

‎Despite having positive connotations (i.e. reverence; the third definition), the word is generally associated with much dread and worry. The existence of the general question "What is your greatest fear?" confirms this while also telling us that fear is individual and universal in scope and experience. You see, the use of the second person pronoun "your" implies the asking of the question to a hypothetical infinite procession of others, which further cements its individuality and universality.

‎Here's a crappy illustration of what I wrote above: Person A fears spiders, Person B fears snakes, and Person C fears bears, but all three can share the fear of worrying too much to varying degrees.

‎As a human, I share in this individual and universal nature of fear. I have fears that other people have — to name a few, the fear of not having (enough) money (amirite?), the fear of failure, and the fear of uncertainty in relation to the future, but yes, I digress — and I have "individual" fears — fears that I believe are "unique" to me — and while one can claim that nothing is truly "unique", I see them as "individual" in the sense that they are personal and minute in experience and perspective.

‎I don't know about you, but I have the fear of fear, as associated with the fear of the absence of fear in certain situations. While some sources simplify this as "phobophobia", I don't think that such is the case for me — it's much more nuanced than that. I can feel my nerves creeping about, sending me distress signals on certain sensations — physical, mental, and/or otherwise — when I enter a state of sensitivity. And sadly, when things are going well, I cannot fully relish in resplendence because my nerves would say that "things are going too well, suspiciously well; this is too good to be true". I am quite aware that this (possibly) is a trauma response or is related to some sort of PTSD, but it is what it is, and I'd like to believe that I'm doing what I can to learn more about myself.

Another fear I have is the fear of control and/or lack thereof. (It's funny that I have this fear because I love to play control decks in card games. They're just so expensive to build, though!) While I know that nothing is fixed and that I can generally accept things as they happen in nature, not having agency over certain things in my life or (the possibility of) messing up my control over my life grinds my gears. This is most likely tied to my ADHD, as I can spiral down horribly if just one minor thing went wrong — my impulse is to see that everything has gone horribly awry (by the way, I love the art for the card "Horribly Awry" in "Battle For Zendikar"; I guess that's the title of the piece now. I've been thinking of what to title this piece, so yeah, screw it, let's send it). Another side to this is that I love precise directions, as they give me a sense of direction, no pun intended, but I fear being given (incomplete) directions that do not allow me to fully control things, at least from my perspective. One needs to be specific when one talks to me, because I will be fearful of what could frustrate you if I decide to execute a command in a certain way.

Lastly, to break away a bit from seriousness, I have this "irrational" fear of sitting on "unstacked" monobloc chairs. As much as possible, I see to it that I sit on at least two monobloc chairs that have been stacked together because I am fearful of the possibility that the chair that stands solo might break under (my) pressure. A lot of chairs have been broken on my account! And my gosh, being physically hurt and socially embarrassed from such? Oh, hell, no! Seriously, is this just me? Like wth, this scares me a lot. Unbearably so!!!

‎I never meant for this piece to be a "get-these-off-my-chest" write-up, but I guess it is now, lol. I wrote this as a reflection on me messing something up today, but I guess it developed to something quite more.

---

Dearest gentle reader, I hope you find solace in the fact that fear is something everyone experiences, and that it is okay to lay them bear to see them for what they are and for others to resonate with them.

Love lots, I guess?
D.M. Bridgerton

"What is life without a little gossip?"
- Queen Charlotte, "Bridgerton", Season 3

---

Dearest gentle reader, happy new year to you. You see, I had the opportunity to finish all three seasons of Bridgerton during the holiday break, and it is time for me to tell you about it. Yes, you read that right: all three. I even sacrificed my times of respite in the evenings just to get in one or two more episodes in a day.

I won't tell you much about the plot and characters of the story (yes, I'm encouraging you to watch the show), but I will tell you about — in my opinion —the primary cause of movement in the series. In all three seasons, this has caused the story to move from complication to complication — and eventually, from exposition to resolution.

The general flow of each season is this: the ladies and their callers are thrust into balls and other gatherings until the match of the season is made and the curtain closes. Such social functions are covered by none other than Lady Whistledown, a writer who "shares information about the various personalities who attend such events" as her way of life — or her way of feeling alive, especially in a society that does not offer much for women (of nobility) except to be married off to other men of status. Her quill gave her power and identity — so much so that she drew the attention — and ire(?) — of Queen Charlotte, the reigning regent, who decided to contend with her and find out who Whistledown truly was.  (Much in relation to feminism can be  immediately said from this premise, but we won't dwell so much on such.)  

Whistledown always blows her whistle on key persons in each matchmaking season and this helps spur the characters — and inevitably, the narrative — into action.  This is how the show makes use of gossip as a literary device to ensure movement — and it is this that I really want to talk about.

You see, I found this idea to be quite novel at first. I reveled at its genius. I held it up high like I would when I get a new toy when I was a child.

Thing is, gossip has always been a literary device.
It has always driven different narratives — including our own.

Whistledown lays it down easily for us to see:

"All of us talk. We gossip."

As we live our lives, we talk about people. We gossip, indeed. We talk about the lives they lead and the things they busy themselves with.

"Gossip is information."

And we use such "information" to make "informed decisions" — pun intended. Like, seriously, you probably tried or avoided something because a source told you so.

---

Is gossip — whether sourced by you or other people you know and/or care for — the very reason why you are who you are today?

Is gossip a source of information for the decisions you've made in life?

Is gossip the literary device in the story you lead?

Dearest gentle reader, give these a think.
Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening.

---

Yours truly,
D.E. Bridgerton

Photo credit: https://stocksnap.io/photo/street-alley-I5NUBCSVEP

I've been traveling a lot again lately, huh.

Interestingly enough, a lot of these trips are unplanned — without regard for time of day at all. I would just randomly get the urge to snatch my keys, my bag, and a change of clothes (or two) and just let my feet lead — and I would find myself in some random place — Metro Manila or otherwise — whether weekday or weekend. (I literally don't give a damn whether I have to do something the next day, get a horrible headache, or what; I just know I have to see the trip through.)

Thus began my #GetLost series. I would eat and drink at the most random places and just take everything in — the place, the people, the conversations, the culture. (I'd say that's very Elation-esque, but the HSR Paths are for another write-up.) I found this interesting, in a way. My body is doing its best to get used to this sporadic abuse — and well, it should — or my random whims will literally kill me.

---

The more I travel though, the more I see why I do so:
I want to get lost so (that) I can be found.
I'm trying to lose and find myself at the same time.

Photo credit: https://stocksnap.io/photo/graveyard-gravestones-0CBE35A83E

I have been quite estranged to All Souls' Day, you see. I know it's a
Filipino tradition of sorts at this point (this is why we have "Undas"), but in the past few years, I didn't really have to commemorate or grieve anyone or anything. Add that to my old attitude of just "honoring the dead" in my own way by keeping them in mind and continuing to live and you get my seeming "indifference" about this date.

In recent months though, I saw that I still need more time and space to grieve and commemorate those I have lost — literally and figuratively.

A lot of people remember the dead today.

The difference is that while most remember the souls who have departed this realm, I remember not only family and friends who died, but also "lost souls" — souls still desperately trying to find their way in this world.

"When will their wandering end?", I think to myself.

These souls — I still grieve for them.
And by extension, I still grieve for myself.

"When will my wandering end?"
It's tiring to wander around, you know.

I do get some respite every now and then, but yeah... I really just want to "rest", too.

The famed apologist Frank Turek once said that "people are on a happiness quest, not a truth quest".

How does this relate to "principles", you ask? Because people primarily seek happiness in a world of suffering, they can easily sacrifice their principles for a taste of said "happiness". (Sadly, principles have become more akin to "masks" or "accessories" that we humans conveniently wear and remove at any time than "precepts" to abide by.)

Don't get me wrong; life can be guided by principles, and one can indeed strive to live a "principled" life, but as people continue to live, they become more and more susceptible to two things: [1] the corruption of the self, and [2] the lifelong pursuit of happiness or pleasure.

Principles can easily be discarded in exchange for "happiness". It also does not help that [1] there seems to be no easily-perceived reward(s) for sticking to one's principles, and [2] no one ultimately cares about (abiding by) your own principles except yourself.

(Before you raise your pitchforks, I am aware of the possible "rewards" — especially those in philosophical and religious contexts — that one can receive through abiding by one's principles. I had this my whole life, hec. Thing is, such rewards, should they exist for you, are more "intangible" in nature, and such is hard to reconcile with a world that assigns immediate value to everything.)

In the end, it is what it is — for people who believe that happiness is within their grasp, principles are mutable — whether theirs — or yours.

I could not care less about such... hypocrisy.

Photo credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/happy-women-hugging-4584462/

Given my background and upbringing, I haven't struggled with forgiveness before, but in my now-olden days, life taught me that there is a need to be "unforgiving" and "unrelenting" — that there is no need to give someone or something forgiveness "out of turn".

One is not obligated to forgive immediately. (Heck, one can choose not to forgive at all. Whether this is a smart or dumb choice, however, that's for you to decide.)

I acknowledge that the value of forgiveness is reinforced by certain social, philosophical, and religious facets of the self and society, but that does not mean that you need to forgive someone or something immediately — or that you are forced to forgive instantly for the sake of "inner peace".

By all means, condone what you want to condone, but take time to condemn what you need to condemn — until condemnation runs its course in you — and is no more. Sit with your anger and rage. Let it simmer, let it flicker, let it grow to a roaring flame — until it reduces you to ashes.

You need to feel your wrath in its entirety until you have fully emptied your vats. You need to feel all those things distilled in you to finally say that rage has run its course. You need to embrace those unsightly emotions in order to truly reach a state of forgiveness. (If you just choose to "call it quits" immediately, I tell you, it's gonna be a problem in the long run.)

What if your anger renews itself the next morning? Feel it. Feel it again and again until it runs you truly dry — until your vats are truly empty. And from there, you can find the strength to truly forgive.

As for "speaking" forgiveness, that's for you to decide. Just know you are not obligated — nor should you feel obligated — to forgive someone or something verbally. If you don't feel like forgiving the person or event just yet, if at all, then don't. (But yes, this also signals that you have not undergone your "due process".)

It's good for others to undergo this process of exoneration towards true forgiveness. They should not expect verbalized forgiveness from others, but they should at least work on forgiveness for themselves. After all, you can't expect scarred people to verbalize forgiveness, so the least you can do is to affirm it for yourself.

Lastly, forgiving is not forgetting. You must never forget what made you embrace your unforgiving and unrelenting self.

Because I sure won't.

"Koy, wala na si Lolo", Dad said over the phone.
I spaced out a bit.
"Ano po 'yun? Hindi ko po narinig nang maayos."
"Wala na si Lolo mo."
...
"Sige po, uuwi po ako sa Laguna ngayon."

I immediately grabbed whatever clothes I could and stuffed them in my bag. I then set out.

And as I did, as if on cue, the sky cried, soaking half of my body in its tears. I let out a deep sigh and walked towards Petron North Fairview.

I opted to board an ordinary bus bound for GMA-Kamuning to spare myself from freezing to death. We don't want any more cold bodies now, do we?

My recent past and present have been plagued with the "deaths" of my loved ones. Literally speaking, three of my grandparents and a couple more friends and relatives died, and figuratively speaking, a lot more was lost, including visions of a future I never wanted to lose — all in a span of a little over two years. But I digress.

Yesterday, I also heard from a college friend that one of our mutuals died. It came as a shock, really. That guy was pretty young and... vivacious. Rest in peace, Jap.

I mostly act indifferent when someone dies. "Patay na siya", I would think to myself, and I would just continue living on in honor of that person's life — in my own way. This most recent death, however, showed me just how many "bodies" I have been "carrying" ever since.

Like good ol' Lelouch and Suzaku, I've lost too much — far too much. And with every loss, my psyche teeters ever more and more delicately between functionality and insanity.

As I process my losses, one thing would (eventually) pull me towards (a semblance of) sanity — that I must continue to advance toward my future — and my eventual end.

I must continue to live for my own sake. I can't stop now. I will do what I can to cling to life despite being oriented towards death.

And in doing so, maybe, just maybe — I'll also be able to honor those who came and went before me with the life I lead — as I continue to mourn for myself — and for them.

Goodbye, 'lo. You will be missed.

These past few months, I've been soul-searching — laboriously doing what I can to reconnect with old friends, forge new friendships, and go on adventures alone, as I always did way back in college. I would let my feet bring me to place — known and unknown — and just take everything in from there.

After shuffling up one day, one of my EDH mutuals approached me.

"Brad, parang nagbago ka yata."
"Papanong 'nagbago'?", I said, fully aware of the fact.
"Basta, iba ka na. Mas naging 'kanto' ka. Pati yung paraan mo ng pagsasalita at pagbibigay ng advice, nagbago. Pero parang tumanda ka rin. Basta, 'di ko mapaliwanag."
"Ah. Haha, 'it is what it is', brader. Pero ako pa rin naman 'to. Ibang bersyon nga lang. Still got your back, my guy."

Yes, one of the nerdy things I do is playing trading card games (TCGs) - and out of all of the TCGs I've played so far, I love Magic: the Gathering (MTG) the most. I have been playing for like, I dunno, about two-thirds of my life on Earth at this point. It's great. By the way, EDH or Commander is its most popular (social) format. When you get into it, I assure you, you won't have money for drugs. The downside is — well — you won't have money at all. I recently returned to the game after a long hiatus — a hiatus that I really didn't want to end — and slinging spells with other people once again proved "difficult" for such reasons, but hey, baby steps. But hey, I rebuilt my old EDH decks and built some new ones, too.

Anyway, a number of people in different circles I belong to told me that I changed... like... a lot. For them, I seem to be more indifferent now, like an old soul --- even having a more "devil-may-care" attitude, as compared to the warm and straight-laced guy they previously knew and interacted with. I think they're "concerned", to some degree, and well, I appreciate their concern, if that is indeed the case. I can't blame them; people naturally attach themselves to the familiar to apprehend, if not comprehend.

My response to their observations was humorous, even to me: I just confirmed their suspicions by saying "yes". They chuckled awkwardly, as if implying that the old me wouldn't have the gall to respond with such verve.

It's actually liberating, in a sense, to live with these changes without caring about appearances (and I'm still continuing to learn to do so), and it's interesting that I relish the person I am now — and the monstrosity I could become. There's something "delectable" about subverting expectations that draws me deeper even more than before — and that something is being genuine as compared to being a version of myself that other persons enjoy more at my expense. You could say that I became more "self-indulgent", and you'd be right.

———

Boothill says that people should take responsibility for their choices. He's right. A lot of people know this, even me. It's not rocket science.

Thing is, though, we must also take responsibility for the choices others made for us — and my response is what I am now.

I embrace this changed self with open arms — a free spirit that comes and goes whenever and wherever he pleases. And knowing the price I paid for "freedom" convinces me that I alone should continue to reach the end of my story in my own way.

Photo credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/man-standing-in-front-of-mirror-1674060/

See, here lies the problem.

We all understand that anger is a "negative" emotion. But not because it's negative doesn't mean it's "unwarranted" — it must be felt and processed like any other emotion.

You could even say that genuinely feeling and embracing anger allowed me to stay sane in an insane world with equally insane circumstances. And I am thankful for anger because it successfully "humanized" me; anger showed me that there are things I cannot (fully) accept or reason with, no matter how much I try to do so.

Anger is one's emotional resistance against injustice.

Embrace your emotions, people. They may change you (and well, they definitely changed me), but they will allow you to be more "authentic" with your own selves.

And knowing how to work with your own emotions leads to emotional maturity.

Photo credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/grayscale-photo-of-woman-covering-her-face-by-her-hand-1156546/

One underrated thing about emotional intelligence is the ability to allow oneself to be comfortable with negative emotions. Sometimes, we would have bouts of sadness or rage, and we would feel bad for feeling them.

No. Go feel them. Instead of denying yourself the feeling of such emotions, immerse yourself in them and be comfortable with them. Let them make you see things you would not be able to see (otherwise).

This is also where I disagree with certain religious stances made by certain people - you, of all people, should acknowledge your own emotions and not just surrender them out of discomfort or pain. If you surrender them "blindly" to a supposed higher power, are you truly surrendering them or are you just escaping what you should really feel (and by extension, foregoing what you should learn from them)?

Please. Feel your negative emotions. Be attuned with yourself. Do not make the same mistake I did. Do not deny the self the right to the self. Be yourself — fully be yourself.

Cooking is a simple and therapeutic pleasure I'm grateful for, especially lately. While I am quite methodical when I cook any dish — whether simple or complex — because of my personality (as opposed to a lot of people who just play things by ear), I truly enjoy cooking in my own way.

I get to choose what dish I want to make — may it be something from the past (something I already know or want to look back on), the present (something I am currently fancied with), or the future (something I want to explore someday) — and what ingredients I should use to make them.

I also get to choose who I should cook for and if I should cook or not. Cooking has given me much food for thought (pun intended), and now that I cook for myself, at least right now, I'll indulge in any dish I want to make — that is, I'll indulge in my selfishness, for once.

I guess it is more accurate to say that I learned that I can choose — that I have the agency of choice.

I am thankful for the people I shared dishes with — and for the people who shared their recipes with me. Like other things, I carry them with me towards the future. I cook the dishes you peeps taught me from time to time to indulge in a communion of flavor and reminiscence, but don't worry, I am fully in the present, and I am continuing my struggle to survive.

Lastly, I plan to cook Bicol Express for myself tomorrow, if not on Monday.

From my kitchen, with love. Until I write again.

Screen Grab: Wuthering Waves

As a lot of you have noticed, I have been playing a lot of gacha games lately. As I have been playing Honkai: Star Rail, a couple of good friends recommended that I try Wuthering Waves (WuWa). Gave it a shot and been enjoying it for weeks on end now. (If I don't have much time for gaming because of work, I, at least, do the dailies for both games.)

Changli is my first limited 5-star Resonator. She has a couple of parallels with Firefly, given that she is also a Fire character (in WuWa terms, Fusion). She was unable to control her fire at first, but gradually learned to do so for her own benefit and to avoid harming others. Now, she is an important figure in the world of Solaris-3 — she is the Wayfinder and the mentor of Magistrate Jinhsi, among other notable roles.

I can't help but notice that a number of Fire characters really align themselves with good-ol' "Sein-zum-tode" by Martin Heidegger, as I explained in my Firefly writeup. In Changli's case, however, there is a considerable tinge of stoicism — as manifested by her penchant to achieve things before "the end". (There's also her troubled childhood — and quite frankly, an extensive backstory as revealed by her companion quest in a Sonoro Sphere, but I won't go into much detail here.)

I am no stranger to the precepts of stoicism, as I have been quite the "stiff" and "straight-laced" character for a considerable time in my life — the extent of how stoic I am, however, is "unknown" even to me. (I won't explain stoicism in detail to keep this piece short though — and welp, I'm half-asleep as I write this, lol.) One thing I do know, though: the "stoicism" I knew before dismembered the emotions I should allow myself to feel.

This is a problem that I see not only in me (I confess, yes) but also in other people. I wish I learned much earlier (or that someone showed or taught me) that it's okay to take a step back, feel, and embrace emotions — that it's okay to be uncomfortable with them — and that being uncomfortable with emotions does not contradict stoicism, ergo, such does not make one weak. (This seeming correlation between "weakness" and "emotion" is a flawed idea stemming from existing societal constructs and must be actively "destroyed".)

I mean, I understand. We humans do not want to be uncomfortable. Our flight response activates if we find ourselves in trouble. We love pleasure and hate pain. Thing is though, should we really affirm one side of the coin and deny the other?

Hell, by embracing your emotions, you affirm a part of yourself that you have almost always denied, and by doing so, you embrace yourself fully — you become true to yourself.

———

Fyodor Dostoevsky warns us about not being true to ourselves, to wit:

"Above all, don't lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect, he ceases to love."

Do not lie to yourself by only affirming parts of yourself and denying the others.

Embrace yourself fully. You can be strong while being attuned to your emotional self. The "marriage" of your different selves will make you truly stoic — truly resilient as you live a life oriented towards your own end.

These realizations, coupled with experiences, introspective dives, and book-reading, help me continuously reform my "philosophy" of authenticity unto death.

This is the updated creed I follow, and seeing it evolve day by day as I struggle to survive is interesting, to say the least.

At this point of the Honkai: Star Rail 2.1 story, the composed head of the Oak Family expressed so much emotion.

“You wretched, despicable dog! Why did you kill her?”, Sunday said as he stared daggers at Gallagher.

“You know, in the thick of things, people are blind to the grit in their eyes, yet they could always feel its scratch”, Gallagher replied.

In context, “in the thick of things” refers to Penacony as a whole – its setting, events, and transpirations – in which everyone essentially shares an “Inception-esque” experience of dreams within dreams as they go through their different agendae to “go back to the waking world”, as Acheron puts it.

There are a lot of factions present in Penacony.

The Astral Express.
The Stellaron Hunters.
The Family.
The Interastral Peace Corporation (IPC).
The Masked Fools.
The Garden of Recollection.
The Galaxy Rangers.
The remnants of the Order.

And so much more.

With every group pursuing their own ends and interacting with others to do so, it is definitely easy to get lost “in the thick of things”, as Gallagher says. And this causes them to be blind to the grit in their eyes.

Grit. What is “grit”? I’ve been hearing the word since 2004, if memory serves correctly. I first encountered it in “Advance Wars” (AW), a Game Boy Advance turn-based game which pits at least two commanding officers (COs) and their troops against each other. (Quick side note: Advance Wars 2: Black Hole Rising is a certified hood classic. If you love playing Final Fantasy Tactics, you’ll love this.)

One of the characters is, in fact, named Grit, a Blue Moon CO who is an expert in indirect-combat units. Despite being laid-back (which ties into his playstyle of “chilling” with artillery and rockets), he is highly depended on by his fellow COs because he gets the job done. When Black Hole invaded Blue Moon, despite being the stereotypical slacker, Grit’s “grit” (pun intended) got him out of a lot of sticky situations.

Dictionaries define grit in relation to “firmness”, “indomitability”, and “fortitude”. This is the strength of AW Grit. He pulls through, especially when needed. He even refused Adder’s offer to join Black Hole. He knows where his loyalty lies – to Olaf, Colin, and the people who trust in him. Grit, therefore, can be noted as a “quality” that “something” or “someone” has which enables one to act (in line with oneself, that is).

However, when Gallagher spoke of grit, one can see that there is more to grit than meets the eye.

If grit is a quality, there must be a (traceable) reason why such exists in something or someone, and this is the “scratch” that we feel – the “stuff” that we cannot exactly put our fingers on – but is “there”, nonetheless. These may be principles, emotions, other intangibles, or much more (or less, depending on your perspective).

Unbeknownst to us, this collection of “things” has already embedded itself in our sense of “being”, and in our unending (and, in a sense, unforgiving) attempts to live in the present, we fail to acknowledge our grit not for “what it is” but for “what it is comprised of”. Because we tend to be too focused on the “now” – “in the thick of things”, that is – we allow our grit to spur us into action without fully understanding why and how we need to move, which brings us and others we hold dear pain and suffering.

Let’s circle back to Sunday. His misplaced “grit” comes from [1] being blessed by Ena the Order, [2] bearing responsibility as the Oak Family head, [3] seeing the different factions in Penacony follow through with their machinations, and [4] mistakenly thinking that Gallagher “killed” Robin, among others. These eventually prompt him to assimilate the 107,336 souls tuned to the Order into the Harmonious Choir at the cost of his eternal wakening. Because he is too focused on the present, his grit acts as a twisted reflection of itself, causing him to force his idea of salvation – putting everyone to sleep to “enjoy” the eternal sweet dream of the Order – onto everyone, which, ironically speaking, is directly opposed and destroyed by his sister, Robin, with the help of other individuals with “strong wills”.

“Why does life slumber?”, Sunday asks.
“Because… one day… we will wake (up) from our dreams”.

(Penacony was just peak. Absolute friggin’ cinema.)

———

All of us are blind to the grit in our eyes to some extent. Or to be more accurate, to (some of) the reasons why we have such grit. The attempt to apprehend, if not comprehend – without regard to the noise of the world, as much as possible – must happen in order to truly know and act as oneself.

———

From Aventurine to you, may you be kept.

"May the Mother Goddess thrice close her eyes for you, keeping your blood eternally pulsing. May your journey be forever peaceful and your schemes forever concealed."

May you never fall sway to the eternal sweet dream of the Order.

And most importantly, may your grit never be known to you as “just a scratch”.

Screen Grab: Honkai: Star Rail

“Like fyreflies to a flame, life begets death.”
- Firefly, Honkai: Star Rail

I have always been obsessed with death as a “concept” – as an unpredictable and inevitable force and the ultimate "end" of all things. Life will eventually end, and death will come for us all, right? In my wizened years, I mostly did not fear death. If you’d ask me if I fear death now, my answer is no. I, once again, lost my fear of it. But yes, it’s interesting that even though I don’t, it took playing a game for me to find meaning in it and its antithesis.

I decided to pick up Honkai: Star Rail a month ago. My initial reason to try it out was Kafka (yes, I’m a simp, do it for her, and God knows I’m still waiting for her banner to return for my DoT team) and how she as a character is inspired by Franz Kafka, the author of “The Metamorphosis”. Being the crazed gamer that I was back in my college days who played a lot of turn-based games and slept in Internet cafes after classes as I piloted League of Legends accounts, I quickly picked up the mechanics of the game and easily cleared the stories of Herta Space Station, Jarilo-VI, and the Xianzhou Luofu.

I arrived at Penacony after a week.

I met the character I’m currently obsessed with — the character that I quickly fell head over heels for — not just because of aesthetic design and gameplay (and well, she’s the first 5-Star character I pulled, so there we are), but also because I deeply resonated with what she represented.

Sam, the Stellaron Hunter.
Yes, Firefly.
Fyrefly Type-IV, Strategic Assault Mech (SAM).
Firefly, also known as “AR-26710, a remnant of Glamoth’s Iron Cavalry”, as Jade puts it in 2.3.

We get it. Firefly is a cutie and we must protecc her. That’s true. I actually want her to join the Astral Express family, but that’s not the topic of this write-up. The topic is death - or to be exact - authentic being unto death.

Firefly as a character heavily represents the Heideggerian “Sein-zum-tode” (being unto death). She was originally engineered as a weapon against the Swarm, and she has Entropy Loss Syndrome, an “incurable” disease. This is how she describes her condition in the story:

“It’s a strange condition. Those suffering from it will experience an irreversible chronic dissociation of their physical structure. This means they will slowly fade away, and the entire process is barely noticeable to others…

You can still run, jump, and talk as usual. Everything seems normal, but then you’ll start doing everything slightly slower than others…

And then even slower than that, until the lines between your body and the entire world become blurry. You won’t be able to tell reality from dreams because they have all been shattered.”

She is painfully aware of three things related to a Heideggerian death: [1] that her death is hers to face, [2] that no one else can take her place in her (experience of) death, and [3] that death will eventually come for her and she cannot outstrip it. (Point number three is even more highlighted by the fact that the “three deaths” Elio detailed in her “script” are “inescapable”.)

As such, she does her best to live her life “in anticipation of death”.

Before she “became” Firefly, she lived her life as a weapon exterminating agents of the Swarm in Glamoth. The last battle resulted in the destruction of the planet that she served, which of course, stripped her of her “purpose”. What’s the reason for living after being stripped of such, yeah? Kafka found her floating along space debris and welcomed her as a member of the Stellaron Hunters as SAM, the mecha suit she wears in battle.

Despite knowing she will experience three deaths, she went to Penacony to guide the Trailblazers to the "grand legacy". And as she did, she pushed her script to its limits despite its truth – she took agency over anything else not detailed by it. She clearly knows she will “die”, and in her anticipation of death, she did what she can to “reap the unforgettable rewards” Elio promised her and Caelus/Stelle, depending on who you play as.

Indeed, she does her best to live her life “in anticipation of death”.

(Honestly, I could go on and explain a lot more in relation to such. Her name being a mirror to that of a real firefly that has a short life, like her. Her disinterest in wasting time. Her desire to enjoy Penacony with the Trailblazer as Firefly, not Sam. Her absolute love for Oak Cake Rolls. But that's overkill, hec. Shaojie really cooked with this one.)

Now, to me. Like Firefly, I already experienced a couple of painful deaths in my years, and I am also painfully aware of the true death that is to come for me eventually. I cannot escape it. I cannot deny it. I cannot run from it. And as such, I bring myself to the philosophy I follow now: “I carry my own dead towards the future”. The deaths I experienced may not be welcome, but they will, like Firefly, allow me to become an authentic being unto death.

My life also begets death, but yes, it is what it is.

Firefly helped me see my own philosophy for what it is. And for that, she will forever be my favorite character in Honkai: Star Rail.

To death and its finality.

———

Congratulations, for reaching the end of this piece. Your prize is Finality and the certainty that this piece is “dead” – that it has met its end. I’m not sure about its effects being dead, though.

That’s it for now. Until I write again.