Not A Writer - Blog Posts
The same way you can’t force people to enter your life, you can’t force them to stay.
Let them go; let yourself heal. You’ll be okay, always have been, and always will be.
I think I accidentally tapped into some potential Jalala x Rinor angst for y'all's fanfics in my new cult of the Lamb save file (since I'm hyper-fixating on it still)
I was going through the Silk Cradle (third run through before the final run for the boss) when Shamura came up for the second follower fight event, and it just so happened to have one of the two followers chosen to fight me be Rinor. What makes this worse is that, in this specific save, my Jalala has the Terrified of death trait.
I don't really visit my grandparents. They live in an rural area of our city, only really accessible to those with cars, motorcycles, or other personal transportation vehicles. It's not really somewhere you can commute to, so i only ever got to visit them when my parents did, which, to be honest, wasn't a lot.
So, when i visited them recently, during the summer after high school graduation and after not visiting for almost 7 years, it was only safe to assume that a lot would have changed.
Though, i didn't really expect that that place, where i found the greatest comforts in, would change completely.
The old bamboo house, which once stood high on its stilts, its floor creaking with each person it housed, was now flush on the ground, built from concrete, and much, much smaller. What used to be able to house our 20 something extended family for a collective lunch, could now barely fit five people, and even that would be pushing it.
The concrete 'chair' next to their cacao tree where we used to sit and tell stories or fix our fishing poles, had vanished along with the star fruit tree me and my cousins used to climb despite the many warnings from our parents.
The fishpond where me and my brother first learned to fish and boat in, had become overgrown with weeds, the water and its fishes long gone, along with our discarded poles, tossed haphazardly in god knows where. Even the pigsty and the pigs i used to feed had disappeared.
They kept their chickens and their dogs, but aside from them, everything had changed.
I wanted to cry.
As i sat on the porch of their new house, i couldn't help but long for the comfort of what i had known all those years ago.
This place, although it was still property of my grandparents', had become almost foreign to me.