In my initial thoughts for this post I wanted to just share some current music. Like a memorial day musical round up, but then I realized that no one gives a shit about that anymore with recommended songs and computer generated suggestions. Then again, how much of that is actual bullshit? Slop in some stuff the rubes will enjoy but then put in those guerilla marketed songs and try and get you hooked? I have no idea, just like I said I basically have no notion of what I'm going to do here now that this music idea got bunked up. This is obviously going to stay meta, well more meta than usual because I need to do this from time to time.
I started writing words on paper a long time ago. It was before I even owned a computer to type anything so I had notebooks. I filled them up, passed them around, and lost them all. I enjoyed sharing words that made people laugh. It was similar to real life but more scripted even though my editing style has always been the same: none, just this weird self-referential parenthetical foot-note thing I do, circle back to stuff but only after I've kept going longer than I should. It's not "writing" so much as it's some type of free form, half speech, half editable words that I just leave. Like those last few sentences, what in the high holy fuck are they? Sometimes I use a comma because I pause to smoke.
If I want to call anything I've ever done "writing" then I need an actual editing phase. I did that once or twice, but it's a pain in the ass and this suffices as the therapeutic activity that I think it initially desired. That's what confession is supposed to do for us and that's what I've used this medium for, almost solely. I get out my darkness here so that it doesn't infect the other parts of my life. Maybe in those times of high quantity, it's an indication of an increase in darkness. Which would thereby imply a decrease in the light?
Someone asked me why I started again. On the right (if you're not on mobile) should be a link to historical posts. There's a lot of them. 210, to be precise. This is number 210 and by the time you're reading it, it'll be finished. Unedited well, but edited some. As I go, I fix typos and stuff so it doesn't seem like a mad man wrote this but I generally leave order as it is even though I know it should be changed. This is me, this is almost too much me. Just the darker me, though. So I thought, well it's a better question to ask why I stopped.
This last break, looking at the dates, was when I let actual darkness back into my life. Hopefully, for the last time so if you enjoy reading this, you're in luck. If you don't, fuck off because it's weird that you'd read this if you didn't enjoy it. It's crass and vulgar and raw. In my youth, I definitely looked far too long into the abyss and became a monster. Or, however the saying goes. I needed to look and now I never flinch because I looked for too long. I don't consider it as often as I should but these words and especially me, sometimes, are far too much for most folks to handle. My savage soul, unfettered, with lack of consideration, is a monster. But when I let the light in, when I laugh more than I scheme, I need to do good things. Valuable things. My time is worth so much and I decide to spend it here, typing on a keyboard that need replaced, to an audience I know is minuscule. Except, they're not because neither am I and neither is my time.
I've never been much of a teacher. I lack the patience and I'm far too insulting for that type of thing. Those who desire to learn find the way. Willpower is an amazing thing, it will take you to the ends of the earth if your quest needs. So someone, somewhere, maybe they'll see this darkness and learn to embrace the light.
I stopped writing because I didn't have the time. I chose to spend my time doing things that de-valued it. I didn't think it was worth much at the time and maybe I didn't have much to say. Now, I think this might be a waste of my time because there's so much else I feel like I should be doing. Making money, exercising, exploring and enjoying life are just a few things that come to mind. I'm beset upon on all sides by those that wish to take some of this valuable time. I share it more freely now that it is more valuable now because I feel it more worthy to share. When I'm in the dark, I want to be alone because it is so dark I wouldn't want to subject anyone else.
That's the same kind of thing trees do. When they have the energy coming in, they expand. Then they store it up during the winter to burst forth completely renewed in the spring. I don't have another winter in me, I know that. A metaphorical winter, of course, because this last winter made me feel like Lt. Dan shouting at the storm. I came alive, and that might be what caused the sun to shine once more. I'd had enough chances and my sunshine was gone, dead. Until it heard me screaming so loud and laughing so hard there was only one thing that could have happened. I came back from the underworld with Hades head in my hand. Yeah, you can appreciate the similarities to a hero's journey here. They're remarkably similar to the seasons and you don't need to have read any Joseph Campbell to see that metaphor.
I'll share some light here as soon as I can finish rubbing the sleep from my eyes on this new life of mine. It's just shadows now for me, wriggling at the corners of my vision. And it's still just the sunrise, wait till these demons get a taste of this life at midday. The only issue with this metaphor is my lack of appreciation for the moonlight in my life as well. So, there, I appreciate it all. Especially the starlight when the sun is down and the moon is hiding. It's perception, because even in the darkest night you can find some light. And if you can't, just remember to leave the porch light on.
Also, here's a good song for this post:
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