Privy Thoughts

Waking of Monday, April 22, 2019 ~ 2

Privy Thoughts

I looked around.

There was comfortable (albeit ruined) furniture, a bookshelf, a little dressing screen over on the other side—there was a chest behind it, but.... not yet—and.... the remains of what must have been a grandiose bed. But the upper canopy was collapsed down upon it. Wardrobe. More.... more furniture....

Was this.... Zelda’s room?

I read her diary.

The first entry:

After meeting with the Champions, I left

to research the ancient technology, but

nothing of note came of my research.

The return of Ganon looms—a dark force

taunting us from afar. I must learn all I

can about the relics so we can stop him.

If the fortune-teller’s prophecy is to be

believed, there isn’t much time left...

Fortune-teller?

Ah, but turning over these thoughts in

my head puts me ill at ease. I suppose

I should turn in for the night.

P.S. Tomorrow my father is assigning

HIM as my appointed knight...

Oh my gosh, she.... she hated me....

Next:

I set out for Goron City today to

make some adjustments to

Dvine Beast Vah Rudania.

I still recall feeling his eyes on me as I

walked ahead. The feeling stayed with

me so long, I grew anxious and weary.

I remembered that day! Walking along the little lake, what was its name?

It is the same feeling I’ve felt before in

his company... And still, not a word

passes his lips.

So I really am silent.

I never know what he’s thinking! [Oh, I must be infuriating!] It makes

my imagination run wild, guessing at

what he is thinking but will not say.

What does the boy chosen by the sword

that seals the darkness think of me?

Will I ever truly know?

She.... wanted to know what I thought of her?

Then, I suppose it’s simple. A daughter

of Hyrule’s royal family yet unable to

use sealing magic... He must despise me.

OHHHH NOOOOO no no no, Zelda, no!  D8  >__<  T__T Oh gosh I can’t—

Next:

I said something awful to him today...

Eh? What.... could that have been?

My research was going nowhere. I was

feeling depressed, and I had told him

repeatedly not to accompany me.

But he did anyway, as he always does,

and so I yelled at him without restraint.

Could that have been.... at the Ancient Pillars, in Tabantha?

He seemed confused by my anger. I feel

terribly guilty...and that guilt only makes

me more agitated than I was before.

Is she going to muse on all the memories I’ve recovered?

Next:

I am unsure how to put today’s events

into words. Words so often evade me

lately, and now more than ever.

He saved me. Without a thought for his

own life, he protected me from the

ruthless blades of the Yiga Clan.

I remember.

Though I’ve been cold to him all this

time...taking my selfish and childish

anger out on him at every turn...

No, but you were always so weighed down.... with something....

Still, he was there for me. I won’t ever

forget that. Tomorrow, I shall apologize

for all that has transpired between us.

And then...I will try talking to him.

To Link. It’s worth a shot.

She called me by my name!

Next:

Bit by bit, I’ve gotten Link to open up

to me. [Uh! What does she remember that I don’t?] It turns out he’s quite a glutton. [WHAT?]

He can’t resist a delicious meal!

When I finally got around to asking why

he’s so quiet all the time, I could tell it

was difficult for him to say. But he did.

What.... did I say?

What did I say?

With so much at stake, and so many eyes

upon him [hahh, truly], he feels it necessary to stay

strong and to silently bear any burden.

I can accept that.

A feeling I know all too well... For him,

it has caused him to stop outwardly

expressing his thoughts and feelings.

I wonder what I had been like before, then.

I always believed him to be simply a

gifted person who had never faced a

day of hardship. How wrong I was...

You’ll feed my ego with talk like that, Princess.

Everyone has struggles that go unseen

by the world... I was so absorbed with

my own problems, I failed to see his.

Well.... to be honest I didn’t think much of yours with all I’ve had on my plate lately. I only knew something had been weighing on you.... and I only wondered why....

I wish to talk with him more and to see

what lies beneath those calm waters [heh, calm?],

to hear him speak freely and openly...

And perhaps I, too, will be able to bare

my soul to him and share the demons

that have plagued me all these years.

I wished you had....

Next:

Father scolded me again today. He told

me I am to have nothing more to do with

researching ancient technology.

The basis of the plan? But I can’t judge a king....

He insisted that I focus instead on

training that will help me awaken

my sealing magic.

That’s hard.

I was so frustrated and ashamed I could

not even speak. I’ve been training since

I was a child, and yet...

Mother passed the year before my

training was to begin. In losing her,

I lost not just a mother, but a teacher.

Oh Zelda....

Mother used to smile and tell me,

“Zelda, my love, all will be well in

the end. You can do anything.”

But she was wrong. [No.] No matter how I try

or how much time passes...the sealing

power that is my birthright evades me.

What does it even mean to be born Hylian Royalty?

Tomorrow I journey with Link to the

Spring of Power to train. But this, too,

will end in failure. Such is my curse.

No, Zelda, you’re not cursed!

I wish I could reach back and tell her so....

Next:

I had a dream last night... In a place

consumed by darkness, a lone woman

gazed at me, haloed by blinding light.

Oh.... I do like hearing about dreams. Did you know that about me?

Go on.

I sensed she was...not of this world.

I don’t know if she was a fairy or a

goddess, but she was beautiful.

Tell me.

Her lips spoke urgently, but her voice

did not reach me. Would I have heard

her if my power was awoken?

Or was my dream simply a manifestation

of my fears? I am sure I will know the

answer soon, whether I wish to or not...

Don’t let it worry you. Only take what you can from it. But you should never let a dream worry you.

Next:

I turned 17 today. [I remember this too!] That means this is the

day I will finally be allowed to train at the

Spring of Wisdom.

I’m suddenly just so grateful and admiring that the Princess kept a journal.

When Link arrives, we will set out for

Mount Lanayru. The other Champions

will accompany us there.

Oh no.

Is it the memory I’m thinking of?

I have not seen my father since he last

scolded me. [Oh no.] Things are too strained

now... I will meet with him when I return.

Oh no, oh no.... no....

...

Actually...I’ve had a horrible feeling ever

since that weird dream. No one would

believe a failure of a princess, but...

What is it? What did you do?

Right now, for no particular reason, I am

filled with a strange and terrible certainty

that something awful is about to happen.

....That was the end.

She never said what she might have done about that feeling.

Did she see her father again?

I tried to remember King Rhoam, so far away and long ago on the Great Plateau.

Did they part well?

I don’t know.

And now I’m here in.... what may very well have been Zelda’s bedroom.

The sun was sinking in a fiery radiance, beautiful despite the Malice dripping through the air, it set the room with a golden light.

I’ve got to kill that Guardian up top.... the Flyer.

There is a memory up there....

Seven Prayers

Waking of Saturday, January 26, 2019

Seven Prayers

My last practice with Shelene and Jane went well.

We women are better singers.

jghjrlghrjlgjhrlea!!ASDFFGGHJKL;

It was time to pray.

After I awoke at Pepp’s, I warped to the Forgotten Temple, deep in the folded land at the head of Tanagar Canyon.

I first prayed before the Giant Goddess Statue, towering tall and smiling with her serene hands resting clasped over her belly. The powerful, imposing figure seemed to want and deserve being first.

And the Goddess granted me a Stamina Vessel.

From there I warped to.... but I felt no connection to Hateno Village.

I warped to Kakariko Village, placidly nestled in the mountains north of the Dueling Peaks, in the shadow of the Pillars of Levia.

I then prayed before the Little Koi Pond Goddess Statue, which was one of the smaller, more simplistic renditions, molded with the suggestion of praying hands. This one wore a little pinafore smock like an apron.

And the Goddess granted me another Stamina Vessel.

And, “Your being overflows with vigor. There is no need to further enhance your stamina,” the Goddess imparted to me. Or some such words.

That was three full wheels of stamina now.

That was what David had....

Following my old footsteps, from there I warped to Zora’s Domain, secluded in the fountains of the rugged blue mountains beyond the wetlands.

I then prayed before the Little Balcony Goddess Statue, which was unadorned, but held a prominent position before King Dorephan’s chamber.

Of course, as David had done, I asked for another Stamina Vessel just to see what would happen.... but the Goddess only reminded me once again that my being already overflowed with vigor, and there was no need.

So I asked aright, and She granted me a Heart Container instead.

From there I took a brief moment to put on my protective suit before warping to Goron City, high on the scorching western flanks of the mighty Death Mountain, crusted between claws of rock and lava flows, its air all flecked with embers.

I then prayed before the Little Crowned Goddess Statue, which was ensconced in a rough-cut shrine of rugged stone near Big Boss Bludo’s house. This one wore a bright yellow, three-pointed crown on its head! The make of it seemed to glow....

And the Goddess granted me another Heart Container.

From there I warped to Gerudo Town, the bustling oasis, jewel in the sands, and had to stop to put on some different clothing before entering town. I bought some arrows before finding my way back to the Forgotten Court and visiting with Muava.

I then prayed before the Little Court Goddess Statue, left alone in its quietude with only garbage and lost things for company, but no less faithful in its prayerful rendition, no less a conduit for worship.

And the Goddess granted me a Heart Container.

From there I warped to Rito Village, stacked in beautiful wooded seclusion in Tabantha’s piney wilderness, over breezy trails loved by the sun.

I then prayed before the Little Flowered Goddess Statue, set in its alcove in the Neck, adorned with comely cloths and wearing a circlet of flowers on its head and with flowers before its feet. Ahhh, this one is my favorite. :)

And the Goddess granted me a Heart Container.

And that was.... two statues of magnitude or personal importance.... plus the statues in the lands of the four peoples I had visited.... which made six....

Just one more.

And from there.... finally.... I warped to the Shrine of Resurrection, far away and back and long ago on the Great Plateau, back where it all began, hidden away in the cave so secluded, full of steps and barriers I had halted to climb when I was naked and weak as a kitten.

I rushed out into the sunlight quick as anything now in my rattling gear and thick clothing, and made my way to the Temple of Time, past the paltry Red Bokoblins around whom I used to be so cautious and calculated. One cut was all it took to bring them down now.

Past the crumbling walls and in the hallowed space inside, where the moss and the grass grew as soft as a prayer, and the air moved in glimmering haunts fit for fairies, I then prayed before the Temple Goddess Statue, standing in the midst of its attendant statuettes and smiling that same serene smile under a shaft of heavenly light.

And the Goddess granted me a Heart Container.

Seven Prayers. That would do.

I was stronger now.

Then....

Hateno Village.

I had unfinished business.

Snail's Race

Friday, July 6, 2018

Snail’s Race

Today I sent my letter to Eiji Aonuma.

The Letter Is Away.

It’d been such a long time coming....

I’ve been known to sabotage myself with meticulous perfectionism, apathetic depressive bouts, distractionary wanderings and outright laziness—that letter was delayed by no hand but my own.... but I still meant it with all my heart. And I hope that that comes through. English notwithstanding.

If nothing else, maybe the handwritten “ありがとう” I added beside the picture can be enough.

I actually sent it away and out of my hands. It’s gone.

I showed myself that I could keep moving forward.

Even a snail can finish a race if he just keeps crawling.

I might not have the mind to spare for anticipation, though.

Vacation is impending.

The Value of Not Being Seen

Waking of Wednesday, June 20, 2018 ~ 2

The Value of Not Being Seen

Clicking “Continue” from the Game Over screen respawned me back in the Hall of Heroines. I trekked back up the dark, narrow passageway to Barta’s cell....

There was still nothing I could do to help her. I did not rescue Barta.

But I did make it past the infamous pillar and on into the lower part of the passageway, where the next Yiga guard stood sentinel before the only doorway out.

He did not move.

When the circuitous patrolman’s back had been turned, I had paraglided down off the pillar, and landed behind a long pile of storage boxes in this lower part; there were a couple of them down here. But while they shielded me from the second guard’s gaze.... they did nothing to help me progress.

That guard wasn’t moving. He was just standing there so attentively.... How was I supposed to get past him?

It was a cruel joke that I could see a treasure chest across the way on the far side of the room. Yeah, right! This was too much. What could I—

....Bananas, Barta had said.

Hmph. There were bananas here and there throughout this terrible dungeon, but.... what could I do with those?

I looked to where the nearest bunch of them sat, on a shelf high off the floor, on the wall directly opposite the guard.

The single supporting strut beneath the shelf seemed very flimsily put together; it was almost as if it were made of two simple sticks, banded together to increase its length. The white wrapping in the middle of this shoddy construction looked as if.... it were secured by something extra.... like those little metal clasps used to tie off athletic bandaging....

Why it almost looked.... like an X.... Like a tiny.... little.... TARGET.

Well, that chamber back before had offered me a bow....

I shot the strut out from under the shelf. It collapsed, predictably enough, spilling the bananas to the floor.

And the Yiga—he gave the same human-sounding start I had heard the other give before, so low and mundane that it caught me off guard—and then he started tiptoeing his way toward the bananas on the floor—like as if he were afraid someone was gonna see him??—at each step emitting some stupid, careful little “houhp” that nearly threatened to make him sympathetic! Like as if he were being so SNEAKY or something???

He was distracted anyway. I ran for it.

I did not attempt to make the far treasure chest.

I just ran for it until I was safe around a corner.

There were strange rooms further in—some dead-ended stone corridor full of spikes—couldn’t go that way—and more furnished chambers full of Eastern architecture—er, Sheikah architecture—no, the Yiga version of it. Oh it was all rather similar anyway.

I once heard.... probably a cousin or something.... say the Japanese were rather fond of inserting themselves into their video games. I’ve seen it a few times, or what has looked like it.

....I enjoy it.

From there on in I reverted very tightly to my first and wonted way of letting Caution dictate all else. Big Yiga guards patrolled thickly about the constricted spaces. Everything was waiting, watching, crouching, hiding, hesitating, and timing. All my movements were supremely delicate and slow. Silent and threading half-calculatedly, half-madly through the holes left between their patrols. My arrows whizzed below shelves, knocking out supports and throwing out bait-bananas and luring in the great lumbering guardsmen who, for all the acrobatics and rapier-quick mystique suggested by their cohorts whom I had met in the field.... moved like land-bound seals and circus clowns. Always “hup-hup-hup”ing along until they reached the bananas I cast in their way, whereupon they would look around carefully, quickly pocket the fruit, and then sneak back to their original positions. Poor blackguards....

In a catwalk corridor above the largest chamber I was forcibly reminded of Donkey Kong when I caught sight of that pile of bananas at the far end. Sweet Hylia, that was a lotta bananas. Where did these guys get them all, anyway? Not in this desert....

And as I gazed down at the large chamber from all angles, thinking hard on how to proceed.... one of those ridiculous giant barrels—the kind you can hoist up over yourself and hide beneath—had the GALL to fall under my attention, sitting there so still and helpful and quiet and upright and perfect, offering itself as if I were insane enough to actually try to USE it! YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. THE NERVE!

No, I was quite content, content as any mouse in a fox-den could be, up here on my completely separate level....

A handful of breathless skywalks on rickety rafters later, just for the sake of some treasure chests that ultimately would not affect the fate of the universe—I was able to displace the guard who protected the last room.

And down I floated—and away I dashed and hid, until his back was turned again.

The final chamber seemed a little more closed off and private than the others. There was a bed, and another loose Duplex Bow. And it somehow felt quieter in here....

There were more treasure chests too, stuck in the ground. I was a little afraid to Magnese them out, for the noise they would make, but I unearthed them all right with no problems. I don’t even remember what they contained.

Ha, but I think I know now what their purpose must have been....

Using Magnesis for the chests, I could see the Magnesability of one of the walls. And when I had checked and searched every corner and looted everything that wasn’t nailed down.... I swiveled the Magnesable wall on its central hinge, and proceeded through one of the two openings....

Sometimes

Waking of Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Sometimes

D-amphetamine.

Venlafaxine.

Prazosin.

Mirtazapine.

Ketamine.

Theta burst.

Uhrmm the Iodine feels pretty good, actually. Better.

Better than I’ve been . . . in years.

Thanks, Alex.

Had it really been three months?

Three months?

That was so long....

And how long had it been since December? Nearly half a year?

What was wrong with me?

My name is Andrea and I suffer from depression.

Sometimes I used to joke to myself and to others: “I can’t kill myself—I haven’t played the next Zelda game!”

‘Cause, you know . . . . it feels like there’s always gonna be another one . . . . somewhere down the road.

What happened in December? Oh, I was just writing a letter. To the Big Guy. Aonuma. Regarding this log. Wanting to share. Just wanting to share my mad little fan-love catastrophe I seem to have created here.

I haven’t sent it yet—the lower corner of the back page just looked so empty, like it wanted to hold some fanart. So I set to drawing some.

I haven’t finished that either.

Maybe I just wanted it to be too perfect. And I set out to do it, and then I get daunted and discouraged; I used to draw ALL—THE FRIGGIN’—TIME, what the heck was the matter with me?

Sometimes you have bad breakdowns.

Dark times.

But sometimes you find a respite, or solace from a kindly hand.

Encouragement.

And this Tuesday . . . . well it was blessedly quiet and calm. Much needed after two hours’ sleep the night before and only a brief nap in between.

Not three months. I couldn’t go past three months. I turned on the game.

I was still in the Deku Tree’s Navel.

And there was that doppelganger song again. Like an older, slightly more mature brother to the SS Faron Woods music.

Ah but even now as I try to recall it.... all I can hear is the colorful Kikwi forest....

But it was . . . . nice.

I wished I could play the discovery of the Master Sword again, but.... my last manual save was all the way back in the Spring of Courage, and the next autosave after that was already in the Keo Ruug Shrine.

Mmmm too far removed and out of reach....

Hhhh, and I dared not trigger another autosave by moving from the place that I was in—that tight little hollow. I just.... stepped around. Stood.

But the music was still so nice.

Soothing.

It was the nighttime version of the song.

In the end I only paused the game, turned the volume up a bit, and moved to where my computer and tablet were in the other room. How long had Photoshop been open with that file?

I cleaned up Link’s hair quite a bit, and added some more definition to his face—poor guy’s got eyes finally....

I wonder how many bandoliers and accessories I want to bother with. Even the Slate....?

But.... the evening and the conditions were good: I could still draw. I could still draw if I tried and if it was quiet. Maybe things like the Slate won’t be as difficult as I fear they might.

I didn’t realize how much just hearing the music would . . . .

I don’t know, it just made me feel . . . . It made the world feel . . . . softer.

It made it feel okay.

I had just been hurting so much and been so impatient for weeks.

Impatient for everything to just be over with.

I wanted to die.

Sometimes I still do.

Sometimes, I used to joke to myself.

Sometimes, it’s not a joke.

Sometimes you’ve just got to hold on to something.

The Cyborg and the Madman

Morning of Thursday, February 1, 2018

The Cyborg and the Madman

The first thing I thought upon arriving at my desk this morning and finding something on my keyboard was that automatic triage I so often fall to:

Someone’s been here. Need to clean. What was touched? What has been altered? How clean are my hands? How clean are all objects and surfaces? In what order would it be best to touch or make contact? Need to wipe things down, but wiping down requires an immediate hand-washing afterward, best done unencumbered, and the sink is far away. Will want to put my things down beforehand, but can’t leave them unattended; need to lock them up first. But can I do it safely? Yes—they wouldn’t have touched the drawers very much if at all; I always leave them locked. Don’t sit in the chair yet.

I don’t fault anyone for thinking ill of this behavior.

It wasn’t always like this.

On my keyboard was a small generic Ziploc bag, rolled up on itself. I saw dull colors inside through the plastic. Candy? Sometimes people do hand out goodies to each other, and I am grateful for those times.... But why not just plopped on the desktop? Why on my keyboard? Woulda had to get in close for that.... Where would a body touch....?

But as I stuffed my backpack and purse away, I saw the bag closer, and the dim blue and white and brown and yellow came into focus through the plastic.

It’s okay to sit in the chair.

There was only one person that could be from.

I surreptitiously wiped the requisite surfaces down anyway, and the bag, before starting toward the breakroom; I used that sink every morning anyway.

But I stopped at Madman Joseph’s cubicle first, grinning all afluster . . . .

It was a Breath of the Wild Link figure, about five inches tall, nicely articulated all over, and packing a bow and arrow.

He was too generous! It was too much! I’m no figure connoisseur, but I know they’re worth more than just pocket-change!

But he insisted and I questioned and he insisted again—said he didn’t have a stand for that one anyway; couldn’t get it to stand up!

Joseph is a figure connoisseur—I catch him at it sometimes on his computer. Just how many species of Voltron ARE there anyway?

We laughed and talked.

“I may or may not like to just sit him on my shoulder, when I play the game.”

Shifty eyes above his incendiary grin. XD

I laughed and pictured the sight.... and then pictured the little Link on my shoulder....

Huh.... I wonder how he’d like me just spitting all this out into my log. Ah but he’s a pretty carefree guy. Only a little maniacal. Too bad Erika’s not here for him to startle from behind anymore. (Well, too bad for him, not for her.) I’ve heard him lightly blame it on PTSD from his time in Iraq.

Ah I remember when they took us all out to play lasertag that one time.... and SOMEHOW (???) I had come out the top-scorer on the winning team. (“Cyborg” was the codename I had taken upon myself with that particular gun-harness; felt pretty boss.)

But Joseph? Oh how he had kept popping up and around every corner, blasting my suit again and again, and dancing away with a wicked laugh! He positively harassed me!

He was my most worthy adversary.

And in the after-battle rush, as we all came pouring out from the cracks of the maze, running together and filing toward the exit—and I spotted him—“You! What is your PROBLEM?” I allowed myself to shriek in that wild vexation only a female can assume without losing grace. I don’t think I had ever actually allowed myself to indulge in it before, and that’s the truth.

He had been that infuriating.

I don’t even remember what he said in response. But we were both smiling, and we swapped names.

And that’s how I met Joseph.

He’s a kind soul. Beneath all the crazy.... he has a good heart. And he is generous.

Was I ever like that before?

Could I ever be like that?

I haven’t always been like I am now.

When did I become so touchy, so fearfully meticulous, so.... cold?

When did I become.... like a Cyborg?

The City Again

Waking of Friday, January 19, 2018 ~ 9

The City Again

Dang it, where had my sand seal gone? Hopefully back home....

No matter; I could just warp back to town.... And I did, Molduga guts in tow, before doing myself up like a girl once again and heading for the gate.

Before I got there, however, I bumped into Bozai.

I guessed this was the first time he’d seen me as a girl; he positively fell all over himself making an introduction.

“So yeah, hey, the name’s Bozai. I’m 35, single, and I LOVE jogging. Especially on sand.”

Oh yeah those Sand Boots! He said he might give them to a girl!

At once I started trying to weasel them out of him, and I heard him mumble something to himself about a golden chance to woo.... But he seemed quite attached and he kept playing coy, and in the end he said he’d only give them to me if I could first do him the favor of finding the legendary Eighth Heroine, somewhere in the Gerudo Highlands.

And to help me out he lent me a pair of.... SNOW BOOTS?

Well HANDYSAUCE I guess! ‹8D

I checked my map—I’d heard tell of the Seven Heroines, and I was pretty sure I knew what those had to be. I found that circle of Desert Colossi I had seen, and counted—there were seven.

And if those Colossi were big enough to register on my topo.... my eyes swept over the Gerudo Highlands....

Ah! There it was. :) Way up round the north side where I hadn’t been able to reach before.

But with my new Snow Boots, and my Warm Doublet AND the cold-resistant circlet from that nice lady back in town....! 8D

But.... that was an excursion for another time; I had some business at present.

As the day became stronger I stepped into the city, and immediately got lost in the sprawling tangle. Where was Malena? I went looking here, looking there, looking for Malena—no, the area full of guards was the wrong place—I needed the front of the palace....

And even as I veered to correct my course, I bumped right into her as she walked up the street!

Malena! ^_^

And I gave her the Molduga guts.

And she was in disbelief, she was so grateful—“OH, SARQSO!” she cried! and promptly became all sniffly with emotion. “This will save him...”

She wished she could give me more in thanks, but I graciously accepted her proffered 300 rupees.

“I never asked your name, did I?”

I told her it was Link.

“Sounds like a sturdy voe name to me,” she said.

Ah, hehh.... ^_^;

“May I... possibly... name my vehvi after you? If I ever have one, that is!”

AwwwWWW! There was a Gerudo word for BABIES!  ^___^ <3

“Deepest Sarqso, Link. I’ll never forget about you.”

Dang that felt good.

As I moved further about the city I found yet more areas that I had never encountered. One odd corner of town brought me to an old woman named Muava, sitting alone on a rug, and further along the wall, on the other side of.... what looked like a pile of rubbish.... a Goddess Statue.

I spoke to Muava, and she recognized me for a voe! But she wasn’t going to tell anyone. Actually she liked the idea of chatting with a voe once again.

She said she was quite a trveler, and a beauty, when she was younger. She had looked all over for the Lover’s Pond, but she never found it—I knew where that was—and before she knew it she was old.

Now.... she was just lonely. Lonely and alone, and she appreciated the time I spent talking with her.

Hhhhhhh, makes me want to.... I don’t know. I don’t know any cut-off and detatched elderly people. Though I suppose if they were cut off, how would they inform anyone?

What a cruel joke.

....

I wonder if I’ll end up like that, since I’m not very outgoing.

....

At the very least we could Christmas carol to a nursing home again.

Oh, the way their eyes light up and their smiles come to life....

I prayed at the Goddess Statue, and received another stamina vessel, which made now for two complete wheels.

Back at the clothing shop—Armor Shop?—I attempted to explore a little deeper beyond the front stall—but the attendant told me that door was “for employees only”.

Huh.

So I combed the outside of the building until I found another door. But when I attempted entry here, a voice from within asked me for a password.

! So this was the password door!

I had a wild guess at it anyway. Not unexpectedly, I got it wrong.

The voice chided me and told me to go back to the tavern and order.... milk or something or some such words.

I turned and ran back to the square, passing Jules in the street—we momentarily reveled in our sharing the secret. Hee.

But I hurried on to the tavern—I wanted to learn the password!

As it turned out there was indeed a new option to order milk from the bartender—but when I tried it she told me off just the same!

I got the feeling both the bartender and that voice behind the door each thought the other were playing tricks on her....

The only other things the bartender talked about were one Pokki and some purported Ice House which aided in their business. Of neither of which I found any sign as I looked all over.

I spoke to another patron in the bar, Pritana, but she only said I didn’t look old enough to be in there. “How old are you really?” she asked.

“I’m over 100!” I answered, selecting the answer before I realized the dialogue had given me options.

Pritana laughed and told me what a funny vai I was. “When you’re older,” she said, “let’s have a drink together!”

Fed up and unable to squeeze anything further from the canteen, I threw the barrel at those lounge ladies once again before plunging back into the city.

I think inwardly.... I only wanted to put off my quest for a little longer. I wanted to play, and yet I also wanted to keep from doing the important things in the game.... because I was always behind on my log, and I wanted to catch up on my writing first before playing deeper into the main storyline....

Though I’m sure you can see the lot of good that has done me in my writing. Sometimes it doesn’t matter whether it’s important or inane, main storyline or not. The moment that strikes you has no preferred time or place or shape or color or taste. It manifests when it wants to, and you can only try your best to bottle it with your words.

Like that whole Molduga chapter.... How did two or three sentences of notes become three or four pages of log?

I guess because the moment was familiar.

Maybe I am the spider in the web, perservering motionless for endless hours.

I am Buck in the wilderness.

I’m Pangur Bán hunting mice.

I’m the scholar, hunting words.

Hunting mice is his delight,

Hunting words I sit all night.

Better far than praise of men

‘Tis to sit with book and pen...

Translated from the Irish by Robin Flower (1881 – 1946)

A walk around some very high walls with enormous planters and palm trees in the corners gave me a view of one more sand seal paddock, containing only one animal.

I floated down—this sand seal was different, and had a stronger color.

Padda, the single Gerudo standing by, informed me that this was the chief’s favorite sand seal, Patricia.

I regarded the creature.

She had a tiny red bow at the front of her scruffy mane, but I think.... it only accentuated what great hulking squash-faced beasts they are.

Padda further explained that Patricia was an oracle.

WAT.  ._.

“Offer her fruit, and she will give you words of wisdom,” says Padda.

So I gave her an apple.

She ate it, and then proceeded to bark and grunt and flap her big flippers with a great deal of show.

Padda translated for me: “‘The southern desert is...searing hot during the day! Bring gear made for it!’ I’ve spared you the painful seal pun,” she added.

OH GOSH. |-D

Thanks, Padda.

I think.... I’d had enough.

I got out of town, grabbed a seal, sealed back to the Bazaar, headed to the inn....

And went to bed.

Good night.