#thoug

Anyone else write down all their dreams and study them?

As much as I believe they really were lazy with female aliens and that's why they hid her face, I really find the clothes she's wearing absolutely gorgeous. @bronzeagelove​ have you ever analyzed it? What do you think of it?

and I'm VERY interested about krogan shamans. I wonder how their religion might evolve. Bakara believes wisdom comes from pain and everything we know about shamans has to do with their resilience.

She gave the crystal she found during her rite to Shepard. "Take it as a reminder, Commander. In the darkest hour, there is always a way out."

This is such a great and touching moment because she recognizes pain in Mordin, but she must recognize it in Shepard as well. And I don't feel like the gift is a thank you, I think it's more of a "go on and don't be scared" gift, and that's something utterly selfless. 

It's also very interesting because I’m not sure Bakara identifies with one specific clan like other krogan do. When Shepard asks her about helping a rival clan, she says (and I'm quite amused) "Rivalries are the invention of the males." To me, it means she considers herself the shaman of everyone, meaning by giving the gift to Shepard, she acted as shaman. Shepard became a part of her clan. It's also likely that she acted as shaman during the experiments and helped the other female krogan - probably to the point of ignoring her own pain. More than that, as they all started to die, Bakara as shaman was the one to eulogize them and make sure they would be ready to enter the Void. It was her role, on top of being sick and almost dying. She's remarkable.

I am 

Zilch keen 

To see things 

I haven't seen 

  I don't       

Wish to read 

 Words 

That incite or plead 

 I have little 

 Regard 

For the crimes

In my backyard 

 Where leaves 

Sieve light 

As blood flows 

In sight 

 So I don't meddle 

Or reason 

With fake patriots 

And treason 

For my grave 

Is a shard 

In my own 

Backyard 

And my eulogy 

Weeps hard 

On my own 

Birthday card 

 Screaming Secrets 

Of the deep 

That society loves to keep 

In a dark Deep cellar 

Where Secrets live forever 

 While Nibs scribe truths 

In lines 

Revealingly clever 

 Which society 

 Won't read 

So it won't 

 Be freed 

 And joys 

 Big or small 

Shall elude 

Us all 

With each 

Building the wall 

And none 

 To break our fall 

 We'll glide gently 

Into oblivion's lap 

Without thunder 

Or a clap.

© Prashant 

Here goes nothing once again. The kind of again that makes me think, "Is this what they mean by never give up?" I start. I stop. Inconsistency. Yet the desire is persistent.