I wonder how to do it. I wonder how to banish the demons lurking in my soul. They reside in my mind, silently awaiting a moment’s inattention, lying quietly, camouflaged as memories or benign associations until I begin to roam too near where they dwell. They attack swiftly, with no hesitation. They kidnap my thoughts, commandeer my consciousness, drag my mind as it helplessly kicks and screams for release through the bloody battlefield of my past, through the muddy gore of the half buried graveyard of broken promises and abject lies. I valiantly attempt to fight against them, ill prepared for another battle with such an overwhelming foe. I fight tooth and nail against their claws and fangs and fall helplessly short without the necessary arsenal it would take to defeat them, nay to even hold them at bay for but a moment or two of sweet surcease. I cannot begin an offensive, their fortress impenetrable against my laughably puny resources.
I endure. I silently rail against my demons, begrudging them each inch of victory, vowing to obtain the magick that will banish them from my mind, from my soul. I wonder what lack have I that I cannot vanquish these monsters as others appear to have done. My eyes see you all, sitting in the quiet comfort of yourselves, content and secure, unbothered by inner turmoil, blissfully and radiantly untroubled. I believe, intellectually, that you have each been torn asunder by your own mental anguish and your own personal demons. It appears that you have emerged victorious, untroubled now as a newborn babe safe and secure in loving arms.
What magicks have you found? What parlour tricks or incantations have you employed to relieve yourselves of the misery in your minds and allow the radiant light of goodness to conquer all?
I would pay dearly, my darlings, to become one of the fortunate insiders to share in this glorious secret. I would hand over my soul to the devil Himself for all eternity just to end the distress of my mind. I would sacrifice my ofttimes questionable mental faculties to banish these demons, to not only persevere in my quest for an end to their torments but to arise triumphant from the ashes of their abuse, resplendent and luminous with my own inner light.
Share with me, friends. Give to me your secrets of victory. Do not make me beg. Do not turn your backs on me and leave me floundering in the dark abyss. I wish not to sacrifice hearth and home, kith and kin. Shine your lights on me. Rescue me from my kidnappers, save me from myself.
I am insanely interested to see what you all might have to say about this post, what answers you may give. Please. Please respond as if you are not currently reading what I am about to type.
Have you ever had an idea for an article, or a blog, or some sort of writing piece and as you sat down to write, it runs away from you? Did it develope a life of its own and run away like an errant child trying to avoid the dreaded bath and subsequent bedtime?
This piece went beyond that child and developed a personality that refused to be silent. It insisted on being heard and having the story told in its own wild way. It wanted to bring to mind a Renaissance era, a time of demons and magick and potions and wards. It wanted to bring the idea of warring factions to mind … in mind. It insisted on kidnapping my wholesome ending, my idea to turn the demons away and emerge as a hero.
Who am I but the author, the arm with the pen, the fingers on the keyboard? I am but the medium for the words that wanted to flow and I give you this … this monstrosity, this tunnel of darkness, this world in which evil wins.
Dare you ask if this is the truth? Stick around for awhile on this blog and visit my page and see for yourself. Only you should be the judge of what is truth.