the Benji Karmis website experience

              It’s funny how attached us humans get to things. People closest to us make sense. But what about people further away? Take strangers we never knew, animals even though we eat them, and the oddest to me, things. Why do we get so attached to our favourite cup, or a seat in class, or a building in the skyscape that you’ve grown fond of? It’s just stuff, right?               But for whatever reason, stuff makes us happy. Take my beloved Corvette – a black ’85 C4, automatic, targa top with louvres. It’s just some vehicle I bought for $8500 a few years ago. Yet, selling it today via a phone call with my dad back at home, it brought me into a sombre, yet sentimental mood.               It’s not that the car itself was the greatest. Sure, it was always pretty reliable for a 30+ year old car. Insurance at Hagerty ...

              As invigorating as my pilgrimage to Tsushima has been, alas, it is time for me to set sail for other seas. Rather, just one sea, as I am currently venturing back to Fukuoka via ferry. I wouldn't say a tear formed in my eye - that'd be far too dramatic. But a warm sincerity put its cloak around my shoulders, and a small part of me felt like I was leaving home. I stood on the deck as long as I could upon our departure, absorbing every last bit of Izuhara until its bright red lighthouse merged with the vast greenery behind it, until I could no longer see the northeast tip of the island where I stood on the rocks, facing the gods on the edge of where reality fades into a dream.               I've been meaning to write more about that last one, as my trip to Shinagi Island was one of the most ethereal places I've ever visited. On the surface, it could rather easily be mista...

              Instead of streaming this morning (which I, admittedly, don’t like), I opted to go for a bike ride right when I woke up today at around 8 AM, like some sort of insane person. But it’s my first day in Hitakatsu, which means it’s a day ripe for exploration. My hotel has free servo-assisted bikes for rental, so I picked one of those and headed out, too eager to even get breakfast or water bottles for my journey. I wouldn’t need them for the short trip I had in mind, anyway.               My original plan was simple - just go around this loop that’s at the northeastern most part of the island and head back. I’ll be in Hitakatsu for a few more days, so there’s no need to go too off the beaten path right away. The whole journey should take less than an hour on the bike, even going up and down the mountains.            ...

               Wrote a journal. A good one. 1000+ words and counting. Left to go to the bathroom, but then Windows did some fucky shit and it’s completely gone now. Bummer, bc I really liked how it was worded, too. Very similar to Uncle Joe’s writing. Ugh. Well, I have to record what I happened, so here’s some bulletpoints from my past day or so, with much less gusto than before:                 -Walked into a random knife shop and befriended a local, who gave me the rec to go to a park up on a mountain where we live for the view of the ships out on the water at night. Went there, it was sick, got great photos. She also literally called the bike shop for me for a bike rental and gave me recs for places to eat. As big a pain in the ass it’d be to transport, I should really go back and buy one of those knives.           ...

Our Eyes Are With Your God   Finished on 21 June 2025                 As the rising sun peeked above the horizon, its golden rays eagerly stretched across the flat stones of the veranda. The light advanced slowly, casting a warm glow until it reached two bruised kneecaps resting in stillness. It caressed a pair of crossed, powerful legs, marked with scars and sparsely covered in fine hair. Hands, poised in a gentle clap, contrasted strikingly with the battered, sun-kissed skin around them. The sun continued its gradual ascent, illuminating the forearms and thighs, then moving to the midsection and biceps, and finally resting upon the stout chest of a man seated in quiet meditation. Just then, the rhythmic sound of footsteps disrupted the serene moment.               "Optio?" came a voice, not yet tempered by rank or time. A boy - young,...