World of Warcraft

IRL bag today:

• 2 energy drink cans  
• 1 broken zipper pouch
• 1 chicken nugget (???)  
• 3 unread texts from my mom  
• 1 sticky note that says “hydration is a spell”

In-game bag:

• 47 ancient runecloths  
• 5 heirlooms I refuse to delete  
• 2 murloc costumes  
• 121 quest items I “might need later”  
• 1 blackened defias mask I wear when feeling spicy

I’m not okay in either realm.   But at least my boots have +15 agility in Azeroth.

If you know, you know.   If you don’t… roll a toon and find out.

Just something I needed to write down. Maybe it’s silly, but… I don’t think so. Last night, while gliding through Ashenvale in owlform, I stopped moving.   Not because I lagged. Just... stopped.

I hovered above the trees, thinking about Teldrassil.   About how something can be alive and vibrant one day, then smoke the next.   In-game, yes. Just code and pixels.   But grief leaks through — from fiction into skin.

The world lost our home. And Blizzard moved on.

My guild makes jokes. We dance in Darnassus’ ruins sometimes, like ghosts.   We cast healing spells on burned ground.   It doesn’t fix anything. But it feels like something.

I main a druid. I am a druid.   I wear leaves and claws and healing dots like armor.

Sometimes I think that’s what all druids do — try to heal what can’t be healed.

Anyway. I should log off and do my real-life homework.   But this matters too.

May Elune guide you, even if you don’t believe in her.