My personal prompt today is “Haunted”. Because—I’m haunted.
I’m haunted by memories, good and bad. I’m haunted by dreams. I’m haunted by success and failure. I’m haunted by the possibility that sometimes I say too much and that I am too much me. Or the opposite thought which whispers that maybe I didn’t say enough, or I might have filtered too much of myself out of whatever setting I was in. Most of time, a graceful wave of apathy breaks over me, and I am ready to abandon myself to the grip the profound craft…thinking.
But, I have admit the haunting is there. To dismiss it would be disingenuous. But, what is the core? An internal melody…Drenched in uncried tears? Blanketed by an intrepid loneliness? A starving beggar? A satiated royalty? A greedy entrepreneur? The voices appear varied and the intent blithely scattered. It manifests as a picture of absurdity, an intentional invitation asking love and fear to mingle together at the same cognitive dance.
And the stentorian voice of the nuanced guide offers only a decaying salvation to assuage my heart’s restless longings to create. A purposed glop of fear diluted with a small portion of love seems a vile mixture with which to toast the mysteries of existence. And yet, I wonder whether that is not me.
I reach out most trepidly into a universe full of creatures which, at times, seem both to loathe and to treasure my appearance on the stage. Perspective? Probably. Hauntings? Yes.
But love haunts me as well.
The chore of winter is warmth, and the warmth of my heart is love. Love is the song which stirs my soul to dance. I know…I know…”could my writing be any more banal?” Ha. By love, I mean the one voice amongst the choir that I will follow. Not the political or cultural appendages of conformity that call for my attention, not the task of diminishing others so as to pose a faux-value, not the pursuit of a mass-produced and ready-to-wear persona…NO! I mean Love of Life.
Love of Life….Haunt me. Scare me. Scar me.
But please—-don’t abandon me.
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