Night, And All Its Work

6/24/2016

I find myself trying to stave off the overwhelming monster that is called my past, creeping up on me, whispering loudly when I am alone, quietly when I am gathered. My mental resolve has strengthened in the last few years, having to completely rebuild yourself will do that, yet I still find cracks in the walls that I must fill, breach points for that darkness to swell in and drown me, overtake me, drive reality away and replace it with a mirrored one that is slightly fractured. So, I try to distract myself, pour my mind into another source where it cannot be stirred by the old ways. In doing so, I found a peculiar fact about my writing habits. Most of my save files are timed between 10pm and 12am sometime. Part of this is just due to my everday routine (work, gym, shower, eat, then play) however there are a few others that fall into a midday category, those unstoppable ideas that must be obeyed, demand to be written, manifest in our world. Still, it shows me that my prime creative time is within a window of time at night, after the pace of responsibilities and fun comes the time of fruition, erection, creation. Part of it is out of guilt form my muse while another bit is from within, that longing to bring something unique and exceptional into this world, or horrid and unforgettable, either is my style. Sometimes though, that wall shudders in my mind, ancient buried haunts moaning to break free and sour my life once more. I cleanse, accept, face, but its a slow burn, one I must endure if I want to be more than the shell I used to be. Its hard though, facing these long, dark nights alone is plagued by a time traveling phantom, phasing through immaterium and presenting horrors from yesterday, shaking my core to remind me that I was weak, stupid, all together pathetic. What I hate most, and fear as well, is that if I stop dancing with that demon my drive and focus will waver, I will become complacent, and then travel down that familiar path once more. So, I have to accept this torturous aspect, building from it instead of letting it tear me down, but I must be careful for it could turn the tides on me if I become careless. So becomes everything forward....night, and all its work.

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THE MAD BARRON

QUOTES I ADMIRE
"A wilderness, in contrast with those areas where man and his own works dominate the landscape, is an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain." - from the Wilderness Act, 1964

"I owe my solitude to other people." - ALAN WATTS

“I think I could turn and live with the animals, they are so placid and self contained;
I stand and look at them long and long.
They do not sweat and whine about their condition;
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins;
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God;
Not one is dissatisfied-not one is demented with the mania of owning things;
Not one kneels to another, nor his kind that lived thousands of years ago;
Not one is responsible or industrious over the whole earth.”
― Walt Whitman

"In the ancient world, people placed heavy stones on the graves of the dead so their souls would not wander and inflict the living. I always thought this was simply the practice of superstitious and primitive people. But I was about to learn that the dead can hover on the edge of our vision with the density and luminosity of mist, and their claim on the earth can be as legitimate and tenacious as our own."

- Dave Robicheaux (In The Electric Mist With Confederate Dead)