The Year Can Wait

New Year’s Day has a habit of arriving with expectations attached.

Start fresh. Make plans. Fix things. Become something new. The noise tends to show up early, whether you asked for it or not.

But today doesn’t need momentum.

I don’t have a clear picture of what this year will bring for me, and I’m okay with that. Not everything needs to be mapped out before it begins. Uncertainty doesn’t mean failure — it just means the story hasn’t unfolded yet.

There’s no rule that says the year has to begin at full speed. You don’t need goals, resolutions, or a clear direction before lunch. You don’t even need a plan yet.

It’s fine to let the day stay quiet. To rest. To do very little. To treat today as a soft landing rather than a starting line.

The year will still be there tomorrow. And the day after that. It doesn’t need to be rushed into.

If all you do today is exist, recover, or reset in small ways, that’s enough.

The year can wait.

Survivors Log: Year End

Status: Still standing
Theme: Survival over spectacle

The year ends the same way most of these runs do: not with a clean win, but with something still breathing.

Some worlds were conquered. Some were abandoned. A few are still waiting patiently, half-built, half-haunting, exactly where I left them.

That’s survival.

What Held

  • The rule sets worked. Fewer restarts. More stories.
  • Lower difficulty didn’t weaken the experience — it strengthened it.
  • Permadeath stayed meaningful without becoming punishment.
  • Writing stayed honest, even when progress slowed.

What Fell Apart (As Intended)

  • Runs that stopped being fun were ended.
  • Ideas that existed only on paper stayed there.
  • Perfection was ignored.

No apologies. Survival means knowing when to walk away.

The Ongoing Truth

This site isn’t about mastery.

It’s about learning a system, bending it slightly, and seeing how long you last.

This site began by pushing back against the idea that easier difficulties don’t count.

It’s evolved into something simpler: difficulty isn’t the point — survival is.

That hasn’t changed.

Looking Forward

  • Fewer series. Better focus.
  • More logs. Less noise.
  • The rules may change.
  • The chaos will stay.

Adaptation is part of survival. Refusal to adapt is how runs end early.

Log Conditions

Log recorded: Final days of the year.
Conditions: Cold outside. Quiet inside.

No deadline pressure. No content calendar panic. Just time enough to take stock before stepping back into whatever comes next.

No Roadmap

There’s no roadmap.

No checklist. No promise that every idea will make it to the end.

That uncertainty is deliberate. Survival doesn’t come with guarantees — just decisions made under pressure.

Rule Reminder

Reminder: These runs aren’t about winning.

They’re about lasting long enough to leave notes behind.

Marks on the map. Lessons learned the hard way. Evidence that someone was here, tried, and didn’t immediately disappear.

A Quiet Thanks

If you’ve stumbled onto this little corner of the internet — intentionally or by accident — thanks for sticking around.

No algorithms to beat. No hype cycle to chase. Just survival logs, written as they happen.

If you’re still reading at this point, you’re already part of the experiment.

End of year status: Alive. Scarred. Still playing.

Next log: When the cold, the dark, or something worse decides to test me again.

Surviving, Not Suffering.

Before the Year Turns Over

New Year’s Eve has a habit of asking a lot of questions.

Was the year good enough? Did you do enough? Should you have done more, or done things differently? It’s easy to start weighing everything up once the calendar starts getting ready to flip.

Tonight doesn’t need that.

The year doesn’t need a verdict. It doesn’t need to be ranked, scored, or justified. It happened. Some parts worked. Some didn’t. Most of it probably sat somewhere in the middle.

It’s okay to acknowledge what went well without turning it into a highlight reel. It’s also okay to recognise the harder parts without dragging them forward into the next chapter.

For me, tonight is just about stopping for a moment. Letting the noise settle. Letting the year end without rushing to explain it.

Whatever this year was for you — busy, quiet, heavy, light, or something in between — it’s allowed to finish as it is.

No pressure. No promises. Just a pause before the next page.

Quiet Wins: The Long Dark Map Hub

This isn’t a big announcement, and it’s not a victory lap. It’s just one of those small moments that make the work feel worth it.

While updating my The Long Dark map hub, I noticed it sitting comfortably on the first page of search results — consistently, across different browsers. Not first. Not flashy. Just… there.

What made me smile wasn’t the number. It was why it was there.

The page hasn’t been gamed or stuffed with keywords. It’s static maps, clear layouts, and information that actually works when you’re cold, lost, and trying to remember which rope goes where. I’ve been slowly improving the maps and adding proper coverage for harder difficulties like Interloper and Misery, one region at a time.

No rush. No rebuild. Just making something useful and letting it settle.

If nothing else, it’s a reminder that quiet progress still counts — even when nobody’s clapping.

Related:
The Long Dark – Complete Region & Transition Zone Map Guide

The Long Dark: Stalker Instinct – Announcement

The Long Dark: Stalker Instinct

Three Chances Before the Dark Wins

I didn’t plan this.

But plans rarely survive contact with Great Bear Island.

In the new year, I’ll be returning to The Long Dark on Stalker difficulty.
Not to prove anything. Not to play perfectly.
Just to see how long I can last when the world decides it’s done being forgiving.

This run will use the Cheat Death mechanic.
Not as an escape hatch, but as a countdown.

Three chances. That’s it.

Each death pushes the run closer to its end.
Each mistake lingers longer.
Each lesson may or may not be learned in time.

This isn’t about winning.
It’s about surviving long enough to leave notes behind.

More details soon.
For now, just know this:

The cold is waiting.


Stalker Instinct: A The Long Dark Stalker Survival Diary →

This also marks the start of a long-overdue update to The Long Dark map hub. Interloper and Misery are finally getting proper coverage, with maps split by difficulty to reflect real loot behaviour rather than false guarantees.

The Outlast Trials Hub Is Live

I’ve added a new hub page to the site for The Outlast Trials.

As the Survivor’s Dread side of the blog continues to grow, it made sense to give Outlast its own space — somewhere that keeps everything organised, easy to navigate, and separate from the calmer survival runs.

The hub brings together all Outlast Trials–related posts in one place, including logs, reflections, and anything else that emerges as the series develops. No hunting through categories. No guessing what order things came in.

You can find the hub here:

The Outlast Trials – Survivor’s Dread Hub

This doesn’t mark a change in tone — Outlast is still intense, uncomfortable, and deliberately unsettling — but it does give it a clearer structure on the site. A dedicated place for controlled panic, bad decisions, and learning the hard way.

As more entries are added, they’ll all live there. One page. One thread. No chaos in the navigation, at least.

If you’ve been following the Outlast content so far, that’s now the best place to keep track of it.

The Quiet After

Christmas has passed. The noise has faded. The build-up is over.

Today doesn’t need to be productive. It doesn’t need to be exciting. It doesn’t even need to be memorable.

There are sales everywhere. Notifications, emails, countdowns, reminders that you could be doing something. Buying something. Starting something.

But you don’t have to.

It’s okay to move slowly today. To sit in the quiet after the storm. To let things settle before deciding what comes next.

I’ve been making a few small, quiet changes around the site as well — nothing major, just adjusting how things look and feel so they better match where the blog is now. Sometimes a little tidying helps things breathe.

If you’re looking for something familiar and unhurried, the Survivor’s Logs are always there. No rush. No pressure. Just notes taken along the way.

Rest isn’t falling behind. Stepping back isn’t missing out. Sometimes the most sensible thing you can do is nothing at all.

If today is just a calm pause between moments, that’s enough.

We’ll pick things up again when the time feels right.

A Quiet Thank You, Before the Year Closes

With Christmas just around the corner, it felt like the right moment to pause and say thank you.

Not a big announcement. Not a recap post. Just a simple acknowledgement of everyone who has clicked a link, read a post, or stuck around longer than they had to.

This blog didn’t start with a plan, a schedule, or any expectations. It started as a place to put words somewhere instead of keeping them in my head. The fact that anyone else found their way here at all is something I don’t take lightly.

Whether you’ve been here since the early posts, discovered the blog through a game guide, or stumbled across it by accident and stayed for a bit — thank you. Every view, comment, and subscription is a quiet signal that the work landed somewhere.

I also want to thank the people who read without interacting. The quiet readers matter just as much. Not everything needs a comment to count.

The image above feels fitting: a warm drink, a handheld console, a notebook, and a sense of pause. That’s what this space has become for me — and knowing it might be that for someone else too means more than numbers ever could.

I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep sharing what I make. And I’ll keep doing it in a way that feels honest, calm, and human.

Wherever you are, I hope you have a peaceful Christmas — or at least a quiet moment to yourself.

Thank you for being here.

Prologue: Go Wayback – Joined the Playtest

“Because clearly I don’t already have enough survival games trying to freeze, starve, or otherwise humiliate me.”

I’ve just joined the Prologue: Go Wayback playtest on Steam. It drops you into a massive, freshly generated wilderness with nothing but your wits, a map, and the eternal hope you can light a fire before hypothermia claims you.

I’ll be playing this on my Steam Deck, so when the first impressions post goes live I’ll not only talk survival mechanics, but also how it runs in handheld mode. Portable chaos, as always.

Want In?

I’ve got three extra invites to hand out. If you’re a friend of mine on Steam (Survivor Incognito) and want to try Go Wayback for yourself, give me a shout. First come, first served.

More Info Coming Soon

Once I’ve had a proper session in the woods, I’ll be back with a full write-up — controls, survival systems, Steam Deck performance, and whether the fire-making is as fiddly (and satisfying) as advertised. Keep an eye on the blog if you want to see how gloriously wrong it goes.

Useful Links

My First Week with the Steam Deck: Expanding the Portable Chaos

My First Week with the Steam Deck: Expanding the Portable Chaos

“It’s not replacing my Switch — just giving the wolves more ways to find me.”

Back to PC… Sort Of

Once upon a time I had a PC. Then I didn’t. Then the Steam Deck came along, and suddenly all those forgotten Steam library games started whispering: “Play us again. This time you won’t rage-quit… probably.”

The first thing I did? Downloaded Viscera Cleanup Detail. Nothing says “welcome back to PC gaming” like mopping up alien goo while questioning your life choices.

Truck Sim Therapy

After that, I traded my mop for a lorry. Euro Truck Simulator 2 has been my chill-out spot — just me, the open road, and the occasional catastrophic parking attempt. It’s strangely peaceful knowing my cargo can’t eat me (unlike certain survival games).

Game-Hopping, Incognito Style

My first week has basically been a buffet of Steam games:

  • Alan Wake – because why not swap blizzards for shadows?
  • Dead by Daylight – handheld horror on the go, what could possibly go wrong.
  • Elite Dangerous – back to the black, this time from the sofa.
  • Team Fortress 2 – nostalgia and chaos, still alive and kicking.
  • 7 Days to Die – zombies don’t care that I’m handheld now.

I’ve been swapping between them like a survivor looting random cupboards: some junk, some gold, all of it entertaining.

Battery, Docks, and Prime Loot

Do I have a dock? No. Will I get one? Unsure. For now, handheld works fine — especially since the battery life is short, but honestly, I don’t mind. It’s like an enforced survival timer: finish your mission before the Deck keels over.

Also, shoutout to Prime Gaming for handing me freebies like it’s Christmas every week. It makes my library grow faster than I can play it.

A Companion, Not a Replacement

The Steam Deck isn’t stealing my Switch’s crown. My Switch is still home to The Long Dark, Skyrim, and the rest of my survival disasters. But the Deck? It’s a welcome companion — giving me the chance to replay old PC titles, test new survival challenges, and expand the chaos beyond Nintendo’s snowy borders.

Two handhelds. Twice the worlds to survive. Zero guarantees I’ll survive any of them.

Continue the Journey

Survivor’s Camp Hub |
Elite Dangerous Diary |
SnowRunner Permagear Diaries

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