So what’s new about telling a story? Nothing really. It’s as old as it comes. It’s just that now we have to imagine everything shifting all the time. And we are forced to get a sense of the transformation in a way in which we add something NEW to the old recipy. It’s just the same old story. New is old. It’s old magician’s trick. And we all know it. And we are so tired of it.
So how do I make it something truly NEW? That’s been my quest ever since I started to write. When you realize you want to tell stories, a whole bunch of shit comes into play in order to be real. Your voice is something you make up through practice. And you keep popping up. Time after time. Your writting takes you to places. But that’s not enough. You need to shape the spaces, the time frames, and the relationships of characters that play along the lines.
And still, that might not be enough. You need to face the deamons. And jump. You can only do that if you allow yourself the panic ride. And not everyone is ready for it… until now.
Panic is everywhere. People are going nuts about any pety little thing. They are willing to push it up your sleeve. As if you’ve lost your mind. And they are here to let you know they hate you. Hatred, not love, has pushed up the boundaries. And that’s scary. As darkness is just around the corner looking for a way to capture your soul.
Fear: into you. That’s the formula. The man on top wants you to own it. And you do. Decisively. As you wonder around a pond of doubts that built up in an empty cabinet hidden from the rest. That’s your sacred place. They can’t touch that. It’s not public. It’s not out there to be shared. It’s just there for you. Your own excitement in the dark. A vaccum full of black wholes. Eternity gone wrong. A sip of evil.
Consciousness is quite the other end. Polar existance allows anything to be there, but also, just the opposite. And that’s simple enough to bounce out of any position. No matter how sacred. I’m ready to leap out. No space is ethernal. Nor should it be.
So long anxiety. I will not leave you for long. But I’m not your slave anymore. I’ve decided to take the leap. My step’s already been taken. I’m flying. Free. In my way to the other end, where grace shall fill me: ALLS.