I have made peace with a simple truth: I am not a gifted Hollow Knight: Silksong player. The original Hollow Knight already reduced me to a frustrated pile of broken focus, particularly during my dozens of failed attempts against the Traitor Lord. Now that I am deep into Silksong in 2026, the story repeats itself. I have collected a truly embarrassing number of silly deaths, lost more rosary beads than I can count, and accepted that I will never earn every achievement or master its demanding Soulslike combat. Instead of becoming competent, I have developed a set of chaotic habits that carry me through Pharloom in the messiest possible way.

🪙 Scrambling For Rosary Beads Out Of Sheer Desperation

Pharloom is secretly a capitalistic nightmare, and rosary beads are the currency that rules everything. I have never felt so perpetually broke in a video game. Every useful item, map fragment, charm, and fast travel unlock seems absurdly expensive, while the rosary beads scattered around the world feel painfully scarce. Maybe Team Cherry is making a pointed comment about survival under relentless economic pressure, but that does not help me afford a basic map.

So I scramble constantly. I poke into dangerous corners, challenge enemies I know will flatten me, and retread areas hoping to squeeze out one more glimmering bead. Please, Pharloom, I just want to know where I am.

🌱 Mistaking Cute Enemies For Harmless Little Friends

Team Cherry excels at creature design, which is a problem for someone like me. Whenever I step into a fresh biome and spot an unfamiliar bug, my brain says adorable instead of dangerous. I pause to admire its little silhouette, then it launches itself at Hornet and teaches me a very fast lesson.

These critters prove that cute and devastating are not mutually exclusive. If so cute, why so spicy? My health bar knows the answer.

🕳️ Falling All The Way Back Down To Moss Grotto, Again

Whoever designed the early hub area with a giant, gaping pit deserves a very serious conversation. The opening region above Bone Bottom contains a monstrous vertical shaft, and if I miss a single jump while exploring nearby ledges, I plummet what feels like several miles straight back to the very beginning of the game.

This is not a rare accident. This is a tradition. Each time I tumble down that hole, I lose progress, poise, and another sliver of self-respect. The only word is: why?

🗺️ Checking The Map I Still Do Not Have

I am fully aware that I lack rosary beads and have not purchased maps for most areas. Will I stop opening my map anyway? Absolutely not. Every time the blank interface appears with that little symbol indicating no map, it feels like a paper receipt for my failures.

I have even opened the map by accident during boss encounters. As if a flimsy scrap of unmapped parchment would help against a massive armored predator. My subconscious apparently wants to attempt a map-only run.

⚔️ Brute Forcing Every Boss Until Something Breaks

My partner and I play Silksong together, and we have opposite philosophies. She is the wise one: attempt a boss twice, retreat, explore, locate hidden mask shards, gather upgrades, and return stronger. I am the stubborn one: slam into the same wall of health bars over and over because backing away feels like surrender.

Beating Lace or any other boss after leaving to upgrade does not feel like the same victory once I have already died ten times at one health segment. I will keep throwing myself into the arena until either the boss breaks or my patience does.

🔔 Wanting To Pet The Bell Beast

The Bell Beast is one of the cutest things in Pharloom. After an early encounter, this odd creature becomes my primary method of fast travel. Despite being a giant bug, it behaves in a distinctly dog-like manner: excitable, affectionate, and full of energy.

Why can we not pet the Bell Beast? Why can we not offer it a treat? This should be the top priority for the first update. I want to scratch behind whatever passes for its ears before riding off to my next disaster.

🧱 Hitting Every Single Wall Hoping For A Secret Room

Hollow Knight taught me that Team Cherry loves hiding secret rooms inside crumbling corners. So in Silksong, I attack nearly every suspicious wall, floor, and ceiling. Most of the time there is nothing, and Hornet looks like a lunatic swinging at empty air.

But when that wall finally cracks open to reveal a glowing secret, I feel completely vindicated. I will continue slapping every surface in Pharloom forever.

📉 Learning Everything The Hard Way

I prefer to play blind. I only consult guides when I am hopelessly lost or stuck, which means Silksong serves me regular portions of humble pie. I flail through tough platforming gauntlets and boss patterns, repeating the same mistake until the lesson finally sinks in through sheer repetition.

I cannot explain why I make myself suffer like this. Maybe part of the fun is surviving my own incompetence. What I can say is that I will not be finished with Silksong for a very long, very stubborn time.

Maybe one day I will practice, plan, and play Silksong like a sensible explorer. Until then, I will remain broke, stubborn, and loudly asking Team Cherry for a Bell Beast petting feature.

With my track record of impulsive purchases and stubborn blind runs, you would think I had learned to budget my gaming spending. I have not. Between buying every indie Metroidvania that looks even remotely like Hollow Knight and grabbing DLC I never finish, my wallet is as battered as Hornet after a boss fight.

These days I try to be smarter about where I look for my next obsession, and that means keeping an eye on DealNest game deals before I commit to another adventure. A good discount does not cure my recklessness, but at least it makes the sting of dying to the same enemy forty times much easier to accept.