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Welcome to the Cave. Step carefully— —your eyes will adjust soon. The walls here hum softly with echoes of half-remembered thoughts, and the air smells faintly of moss, dust, and something ancient. This cave isn’t carved by nature—it’s shaped by stories, by quiet hours, by the strange rhythm of late-night ideas.
hail, friend.
i’m bat 
the dweller of this cavern. my days are spent working or hunched over my desk—watching sad tales, listening to music, or pestering my partner when the silence grows too heavy..
I like warm socks, bugs 
, and the comfort of being left to my thoughts. I’m bald, a little awkward, and learning to lean into the softer parts of myself.
Follow the lanterns deeper and you’ll find fragments of me scattered along the walls—some polished, some rough like raw stone.
Take your time.
Listen to the drip of water, the shuffle of shadows.
Every click you make is another step deeper into this little digital cavern I call home.
Welcome, wanderer.
You’ve found the Cave—and the quiet within it!
| Feeling | Fevered |
| Listening to | India Rubber, Radiohead |
| Reading | The Road, Cormac Mccarthy |
| Watching | Dexter, S5 |
| Favours of the Soul | |
|---|---|
| EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH |
|---|
| Tim Robinson |
| Sir Tim of House Robinson, jester supreme of the modern age, doth weave chaos and cringe into pure mirth. My own humor, forged in his absurd fires, compels me to shout nonsense ‘neath moonlight and declare, “I think you should leave!” to all who take life too serious. As Sir Tim himself proclaimeth, “We’re all trying to find the guy who did this!” |
| dweller thinks... |
|---|
Cutting is a fence you build upon your own body to keep people out but then you cry to be touched. But the fence is barbed. What then?"
— Kathleen Glasgow, Girl in Pieces
i wish i could express how much this book means to me. it was given to me at 16 and totally changed my life. this book kind of started my love for reading. i had never felt so seen. Charlie spoke to me so much, her struggles, her growth, even her experiences with men. This book kind of showed me that healing is something we should always try. i remember being in a psych unit and not thinking that i was worth healing, that i could be healed and loved.
| WHAT HAVE I GOT IN MY POCKETS? |
|---|
| Item | Description |
|
Loose change for emergency bus tickets, chocalatines, and wishing wells. |
|
Candy to bribe witches with, and also to eat. |
|
House keys so that I might go home and rest. |
|
Earphones, to listen to podcasts and music with. They also block my ears so that I can't hear the screams coming from the dog park, which the City Council doesn't like us to see. |
|
A stick of 'Burt's Bees' to keep me feeling minty-fresh and unchapped. |
|
Scrap paper so that I can scribble down stories, poems, song lyrics, and divine missives. |
|
Various pens to do the scribbling with. They double as weapons against ghouls and vampires in a pinch. |
|
A book so that I am never alone no matter where I go. |
|
I never leave home without my beloved Pinecone Pig! |
I NEED YOU. YOU CAN KEEP ME ON THIS EARTH. BE VIGILANT. I LOVE YOU.
