Sometimes, there are no good choices. Sometimes you must do what is necessary no matter the personal cost. It is in these instances where the true value of your character is revealed. Do you have what it takes to take the correct step, even if it costs everything?
An unbusy street side by side with a busy one forgotten. Its way sits unused; lined with shops that look out onto it but never use it.
Abandoned by its makers it sees the brother he was seperated from, wild and free. They zoom along his siblings wide lanes, raucous laughter and people spilling out onto his sidewalks.
His life whirs on stagnant day by day. Unnoticed and uncared for he waits. Waits to be useful, to be loved.
The girl skips down the hidden street in the rain. It’s not as fast or as well traveled as its brethren but it is quiet and she can see into the secret backs of the shops. The people in the secret shops down the hidden street watch over and wave to the girl. She loves this hidden street, so short but so full of life. It is the friend she never looked for. The love she’ll always cherish.
Cacophony gives voice to silence. Gives it wings to fill the empty spaces, it whirls and eddies, sliding into place unbidden, nightmare and night walking hand in hand, simple in the silences. My darling silence in the silver river of dreams. Woken to the rattle, rolling of bones. Dripping from tongue and fingertips pressed deep into flesh, holding on lest the whirl pull you away, my silence. Unbidden I am free, though I cling to you my tempest. Sugar honeyed silence, taste and tasting. Illusions are the most tempting vices.
I am the slaughtered remnants of life’s diminishing. I sing deep and greyscale, shifting sands playing melodies in graveyards. Ash precipitates from a pink sky, made beautiful in chaos’ light . Wracked sobs breaking the too still day.
The pain of remembering a good life made beautiful by the haze of times passage. Furys sound like anguish in unbroken night. Only the hollow future beckons me forward
I just woke up and am about to get ready for PAX. I’m going to the keynote where I’ll get to be one of the oldest people there. Further, I am feeling social anxiety on a few fronts.
I’m here in Seattle with some friends and I truly enjoy their company but they have a kid now. So, obviously, their lives will revolve around this. I don’t particularly like kids, I tolerate them would be a good assessment.
Plus there are going to be tons of people in town. 100k plus attendees. That sea of humanity does nothing for me. At least nothing good. I also damaged my hip, simple inflammation but Pax is a walking convention. You can easily do 10 miles in a day. So that’s super fun.
I am also questioning my place here. Am I so interested in gaming culture that it necessitates a convention? Perhaps if I had someone to go with, a companion, that would bring back relevancy. But, alas, relationships in those areas fell through.
So, here I’ll be. Alone in a sea of humanity.
If you see me, feel free to say hi or have a conversation. I’m open even if I don’t look it. I’ll be the tall, long haired guy with the falcon northwest backpack dressed like I’m going to a funeral. All in black.
I have been known to say that I embraced my darkness and in doing so came out the other side. This is not to say that I emerged into light. Far from it. I merely emerged in a cloak of my own darkness. By accepting All that I am, I am able to be honest. I am not the hero of the story. I am. There need be no other statement.
I am attending Pax prime this year. That is in Seattle this weekend. I’ll be the tall guy, dressed in all black, dress shirt and slacks. Send me a message via social and I’ll say hi
There are many days where I want nothing more than to be in a starkly beautiful place, watching the sunrise, as I quietly fade and die.
I dance a paen to life’s dawns turning.
To storm and wind
To rain and night
I dance a paen to the ever changing wheel
To stillness and cacophony
To roil and smoke
I dance a paen to the flashing blade
To blood and bone
To razor and gasp
In stillness, in pain, in fury, in hopelessness
I dance at the turning of the world
The weight of a smile, full force come round again
cheeks burning with disused muscles, forgotten feeling, cold ignites shivers, skin tight against jaw worked down to bone
Fair heart nestled in memory
Sleeps tendrils grasp
Trembling with the weight of a smile.