What if, in fact, we are all but NPCs in a massive game being run by a bunch of nerdy gods and all the major world players in history have only the player characters and their rerolls when one dies and when the game is over there is nothing... just a void

Now I know fighting and action/adventure games aren't usually the deepest of stories out there. Devil May Cry is no exception, but people still miss out the core ideas at the heart of the title. This covers the original story only and excludes the reboot for reasons I will explain later. I will be running through some points in chronological order of the games.

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Recently, I published a new story: The Glimmer Dilemma. It’s been in development hell for over a year now, but I finally got the story where I wanted it!

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I'm having a debate with someone on this. Anyone who's been following my most recent story knows it deals with some very dark themes (suicide and child murder namely). If you saw the most recent chapter, you know that the real intention is for My OCs' son to fight the murderer in hoof-to-hoof combat. I know it's uncomfortable, and that's the whole point. Think about some of your favorite superheroes like batman, superman, Goku, etc. Batman saw his parents murdered in front of him. Superman and

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So I've been gone for a while, huh? Seems par for the course that I should be completely radio silent and then come back all at once. Well, I tell you that you shouldn't expect that for much longer. That stick bug story was the start of a few stories I want to post weekly, that I've made a backlog of to post weekly. This is to be more regular, of course. Though, before you get up in arms, they will not be porn. None of them will, in fact. There's a romance, but that's as close as it

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Oh shit, how do I work these things again? I think I just type in them and people read that, hopefully.

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Most of my recent creative output has been on Fimfiction. This site shares some characteristics with the larger world of fiction, but other characteristics are unique. This makes it difficult to develop the right mindset for evaluating my art.

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TLDR: TC is set to begin releasing on October 31st, in just under two weeks, to coincide with the release of the final chapter of The Advocate.

Greetings, everyone!

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The Cutier Mark Crusaders are on spiritual or philosophical quest to discover the self. Some philosophers like Descartes, refer to the self as an individual entity expressed by the conduct and discourse of said individual. In the case of Descartes he came up with "Cogito ergo sum," or I think therefore I am. Lao Tzu philosophized that, "Knowing others is wisdom. Knowing the self is enlightenment. Mastering others requires force. Mastering the self requires strength." Plato argued that

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I spent this week on a residential course on Popular Science Writing, which has left me bubbling with enthusiasm for putting together my own book proposal. I cycled into town this morning to visit the science section of my local bookstore and get some reference material. While there, I also decided to stop off at my college just to see if I had any mail—only to find the entire street had been closed off and was swarming with security trying to hold back a dense crowd, holding their phones high

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Long nights, starry skies, finding amazement in but a minute detail of the complexity that makes up our lives. Even the most common building blocks of our worlds house great mysteries. Every grain on the highway of live has its story, a mimicry of those that thread it. Highways, towards the infinite, towards the origin of light, we realize even illumination is a mystery. Our knowledge still outside the reach of its nature, what it is, why it behaves as it does.

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Will I spiral into nothingness, were I to find the depths of the mind? Beyond the drain of thought and sanity, a veil immeasurable and insignificant. There are those who claim to have seen before it, some for a cause, some without. But how much does one have to believe, to claim the unknowable for no purpose other than an unachievable self satisfaction?

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Should I listen to the voices today? Would I heed the call set out for me? Shall I strive ever onwards on what missions have been put a-front? What is, the purpose, really? For someone of my niche, to strive feels purposeless, for what is achieved can again soon be forgotten, locked away within a glass closet, whose doors lay cloaked in dust.
But should I not to strive, then what would call shall I heed?

Happy Filthy Friday~.

There is a certain tranquillity that comes with nature, this grand,, magnanimous state of existancewe share. It is faulty to call it nature. There is a great disservice done in denoting it by but a simple word, with six frail letters. for it cannot be contained in 6, 12, or 18 symbols. Were we to take all literature relating to nature, and compile it to one single tome, would reading it, still even give a spectre of the magnitude of nature? Even if we did. It would escape. It always does. It

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My perspective of time ran out.
It didn't tell me when it was going, perhaps it wanted to pick up some ice cream. A time sensitive dish, as they all are, though this one more than most readily available alternatives. Perhaps it needed to cool down? You usually do not rush out in a hurry, without saying where you are going, when you are calm and collected. I ponder if I should go out and find it. But, perhaps I'll just let it be.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

I still wish to see more, to know more, to understand, more. This more keeps me going, has my senses peaked, has my interest captured. And I barely understand what I already have, what is important to me is n disappears in a haze of striving towards new goals, towards new horizons, towards new... more.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

The times move with us, though we already knew that. It is in fact our perception of it which makes it tangible to us. Tangible, though not tactile. In that line of thought, time only exists when we care to let it. when we bother to give it a glance, or obsess over it with zealous vigor.
Then, taking a break to relax, holds a temporal duality:
It is the single largest waste of time.
And a moment where no time passes.

Happy Filthy Friday~.

Memory lingers, memory is fleeting, through memory we perceive the world. Clouds condensed of thought, serving as the canoes for sailing the seas of perception. In this context, it is sound that we fear death; the loss of our ability to remember. And, perhaps more so, we fear being forgotten.
But then, how come we experience tranquility,
in those moments bereft of memory?
When life slows,
to a stand...
still.

Happy Filthy Friday~.