#cosmiccascade

To each their own of course, but if we all dig a little ways inside ourselves we'd know it to be true. You can feel it, permeating every inch of our existence.

If home is a place, it needs to bring safety, comfort, respite after a weary day. Where in our world do you feel safe? It might be rude to throw rhetorical questions into an answer, you must forgive me. This is not, after all, a conversation. Beyond a few scarce pockets, every block of our world lies under threat. Every moment is a cold war between player ideals, moral quandaries, and the need to leave a mark on a world that so few seem willing to engage with. Why build something like a home when it can be taken away without explanation? Why destroy someone else’s if no one will put up a fight?

Now, if your home is a person, then you’ve got your own issues to contend with. You must find some sort of solace in their presence, or reliability in their actions, perhaps trust in the things that stitch you together. Who holds that kind of bond, truly? Surely some of us must. The ties that bind souls together are a mysterious thing, after all. Many formed over time, meticulously crafted and curated, or maybe a series of small moments that weave you together into a braided inescapable rope of fate. But what do you do when the rope you're clinging to gets cut?

11 minutes. that’s how long they were gone. 11 minutes. 660 seconds. 715 heart beats. 143 inhales. 142 exhales. half the day-night cycle. somewhere in the world a tree grew. a clock continued ticking. machines ran. other people lived and breathed but they were not one of them. you lived and breathed but Blue did not. 

for 11 minutes the lantern on your belt went dark.

If home is a thing, then it must be precious. For an object that can carry the weight of being one’s home, one’s whole world, well, it must be kept safe. And when you’re here, that means it must be kept hidden. Sentimental shulkers and bundles are common enough amongst players. When was the last time you looked at yours? Do you remember the last time you felt the soft petals of a certain flower, or read the words inscribed on a token of love? 

Is this all a home is?