This is “Hope”. She is Danni’s version of “Drive”. She will play into some the upcoming story lines. Till then…

I got lost in words today. The pretty patter of a pernicious Pollyanna paints the space behind my eyes and between my ears, and in places deeper than dwarves dare to delve. Careful now there is fire and shadow down there, don’t let it consume you. Sometimes I feel like a burning bush, ever aflame and never consumed. Does this make me a God? Heaven forbid, I haven’t the staying power for immortality and only half the ego to allow worship. My mind wanders ever as it always has as I take in the black and white pouring out of another soul, so succinct and poetic, so sweetly psychotic, so frustratingly impotent. It’s too bad they don’t make a version of Viagra for your emotions; I would be the first inline to overdose, what a way to go. How does that even work? How can I despise my inner workings so completely and yet find them so endearing in another? How do you love in someone what you hate in yourself? I laugh aloud to myself at the thought of it. I’m adrift in this miracle of imperfection, the tantalizing taste of my own piss and vinegar, the acrid stench of my own perfectly torrid bullshit. Everyone likes their own brand. Not my most pretty metaphor but it comes out ugly sometimes, so ugly and ill-formed, so full of insecurities and an insatiable desire to destroy myself and everything I hold dear. Like good Benvolio I am ever the hypocrite, clapping my sword upon the table saying “God send me no need of thee!” and by the second Seven and Seven drawing it upon the soul nearest to be cut down. But oh how these quips and phrases ring in my mind, yours is a pretty and rusted razor of well placed words, the clean cut you don’t feel until it’s infected, and you’re lost in fevered dreams. I got lost in words today.

I stand astride this gap I’ve already passed what seems like an eternity ago. I watch as so many of you stand at the edge and turn away, and still once in a great while one of you jumps, one of you embraces the unknown and makes that leap of faith, that heroes trial that lies between the mundane and the extraordinary. Nobody is ever as free as when they are falling to their death, the exhilaration of knowing that your not going to make it and all you have is this fleeting fall to live a lifetime before the ground rises to meet you in a cold granite embrace. Yes dear ones, ground beats face every time. And I think of those who have leapt before me, and after me, into the unknown, I went head first and it made all the difference, because it is a kind of death, and a rising from the ashes of what once was and what you once planned and what now lies before you, because what lies before you is anything you want it to be, and you wonder why you were so scared of the fall in the first place. I think of my little sister bear, so long in the suffering, as sad as it seemed like all that sweetness was beaten from her with meaty mental hands. Nobody is happier for you than I am little bear, you deserve all the happiness you can find, I’m glad you awoke from your hibernation, I was afraid you were lost forever. But you jumped from the ledge finally, you found your courage, you found your pot of honey, and now you know that this is what makes the difference in people, this is what separates the haves and the have-nots of the happiness game. Brother wind your time is coming as well, I anticipate great things ahead. I consider the prophecies I’ve kept long hidden, and I hope you are all there when the end comes; we shall face Armageddon together and beat it down with olive branches and open arms. But these words I keep silent, spoken only in the knowing look and the half hearted sigh. I got lost in words today.

My old wounds ache today, and the bones of the broken days behind me creep into my shoulders and throb in the numbness in my fingers. That is the trick of empathy. I see myself in you, in both of you, in all three of you, and it reminds me of those days, and I remember the lash of the venomous tongue, the pressure of the thumb I was kept under, the feeling of worthlessness and the surrender to the idea that “This is all I’m worth”. What a fool I was, a naïve and noble madman living among the normies, trying so hard to be the thing I hated above all things. Am I wiser now? Or is this taint of madness just another shade of grey, another clue to another clue to another clue. Perhaps the greatest compliment of my life was when a sweet tempered and raven haired beauty of a Buddhist told me that I was “enlightened”. She was misguided of course, but I knew what it meant to her to say it, and it has stuck with me for so many years now. She bought into the illusion that is me; she was one of the first but never the last. Behind the eyes I am more demon than angel, eventually you will all learn this. Maybe not, I don’t know anymore, I don’t know if I’m truly the person you all think I am, or the image in the black mirror inside of me that I’ve held aloft for so many years. Or am I something in the in-between, what is the answer? To know ones self is to know everything. There is no person on earth that we lie to more than ourselves. It’s no wonder I can’t trust my own judgment, no wonder I jump at the shadows in the mirror. But I got lost in words today.

And the wind blows, and the water floods, and the fire is warm. I am the earth again today, I am the rock that holds you aloft, the stone basin that forms you into shape as the fire heats and the wind cools. Who counsels the counselor of the counselor? Where does the buck stop? Are we all equals in this, riding each others coattails? Where do we begin and where do we end, who is the greatest and who is the least? I don’t know, but somehow it managed to work out, somehow these entire lost puzzle pieces manage to fit. Who knew who could have seen it coming? And can we really make it stick, can we burn the horses hooves into glue and paste this together. Can we place the shard into the crystal before the Great Conjunction passes and all the world plunges into darkness? I hope against hope. I keep the things that are true close to me, and I take refuge in the passing of storms and the illumination of dawn. Who knows what the days brings, it doesn’t really matter anyway, no matter how it pans out I face it as a free man, with no chains around my ankles, and in the end that is what truly matters. In the end it is not what happens that matters, but how we face it, in bondage or free, in dark or light, in faith or atheism, in fire or ice, in love or hatred, we are only as free as we can let ourselves be. Yeah… I got lost in words today.

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