It always comes to me in the early hours of the morning. I find that it is only when I am at the
edge of sobriety and deep in the bitter forest that my words hold best to the
page. It is only by the force of
my melancholy monsters that I am able to express.
It was Chris Robinson who said it best when he penned,
“There’s a passion in being alone; a grace in a loveless time.”
--
We forge ourselves so that we may forge relationships. I temper my spirit on the hot coals,
reshaping who I am from who I once was.
I started folding my steel in hopes that someone long forgotten would love me more (again?), but what I found was a love for myself. I love my found passion.
--
I have spoken the prior words as a new mantra. I have thrown myself into what I
create. I work ungodly hours for
less than holy pay. I stalk into
the worlds I create by the glowing light of my Mac Book Pro. I dive into projects that drain my
energy, my emotions, and my will like a succubic mistress. I do it under the pretense that I will
make a better me, and therefore make better relationships.
In truth, I do it all to keep some of my monsters at bay.
