thinking about the gods of the silt verses and how you never really get a sense of benevolence, malice, or even recognisable intent from them. they straddle this liminal space between bestial and sentient, and simultaneously exist outside it completely. their relationship with humanity feels like this sort of mutual parasitism (if such a thing can even be said to be possible); "a god must feed" seems an immutable truth, but the answering insistence that "a god must be fed" is an extrapolation, a justification. an excuse. the gods are hungry because we keep shoveling more fuel into their gaping maws. they've grown swollen on sacrifices, habituated to easy meals. they reflect the sickness at the heart of society inasmuch as they embody it. the snake has begun to choke on its own tail, but it still keeps greedily swallowing. we keep excavating deeper even as the walls begin to collapse inwards upon our heads. the water recedes a little further with each tidal wave that crashes upon the shore. we plunge our hands further into the beast's maw and pull up less each time, but the risks of it closing those jaws around us remain the same. what a fantastic fucking metaphorical device.
Silt verses politicians will be like ya we're going to create a living sentient weapon and yes maybe she's angry at us for all the trauma and pain we put her through to make her but can we control her? Well. Can you control anything in this world?
every time you SIN you gain ONE SINPOINT. i SIN frequently and gain SINPOINTS often because i am not gentle or kind. i buy perfume that smells like wolves
distraction save me distraction save me distraction save me distraction save me distraction save me distraction save me distraction save me distraction save me distraction save me distraction save me distraction save me distraction save m