His Dark Story

A young boy, drawn to the occult was warned that he should stay in the light.

So he heeded, with a smile that glinted like a straight razor. Yet his heart had already felt the magnificence of things that go bump in the midnight hour.

In the silence of his own being, he resolved that he would continue to believe in dark things.
He grew, his body extending, yet he remained sickly thin. His interactions with his alcoholic father increasingly volatile, but in the depths of his soul he knew that there existed shadows in the nighttime.

As a young man he witnessed violence and felt the frosty breath of fear. With obsessive compulsion he willed himself to become strong and fast, and in doing so was able to triumph over his fear of physical domination. He forged his body and surrendered himself to his life’s purpose. But the gnawing presence of something deep within plagued him.

Eventually, in adulthood he realized that despite becoming athletic, he had failed to confront the darker aspects of himself that had lain dormant since childhood.

Upon directing his minds eye inwards, he discovered, curled within the caverns of his psyche, an obsidian faced gentleman with a smile that glinted like a straight razor.

Finally,
he
felt
complete.

Shadow Self

Have you ever lied?  Manipulated someone?  Thought dark things?  Death?

As humans in this society, it is conformance to shun these thoughts and feelings away.  To not acknowledge that which is present.

Not unlike a panic attack, which should be given its time to manifest, these thoughts of hate and hurt should be allowed to percolate.  The key is to use these powers for a reason.

As Vader put it so eloquently, do not deny your hatred.  Your darkness.

Embrace the night like it blankets the universe.

Growl.

I Believe

“I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge-

That myth is more potent than history.

I believe that dreams are more powerful than facts-

That hope always triumphs over experience-

That laughter is the only cure for grief.

And I believe that love is stronger than death.”

Robert Fulghum

Damn.

I thought there was more time.

Day Six

Day six – mildly hopeful.  Today is the first day in what seems forever that is not yielding fever and chills.

Lower back is in agony.  Bags under my eyes and my infamous birthmark is a deep purple indicating ‘E’ on the fuel gauge.

When I’m sick I cannot do anything.  I am at the mercy of the illness and at the care of whomever is around me.

Even though it sometimes felt as if Death himself was knocking on my door with anxiety of not wanting to go to sleep, something ethereal happened: I saw my family.

My wonderful wife taking care of all the things that happen in a house.  My children making me get-well cards, keeping the noise level down, my son bursting into my room (just as I’m about to drift off asleep) to ask me if I’m any better.

I had to go to work yesterday.  No go = no dough.  One of those extremely rare moments when I wished I had a salary job.  My son told me, “Dad, when you get to work, just smile.  Smile really big and they won’t know you’re sick.”  My daughter chimed in, “And skip.  Skip around the office.”

Yes.  And long after I’m done with this illness I think I will.  Smile.  Skip.

CTK

Why I Write

for me

for you

as a release, like Kung-Fu

for some unforseen reason that I die – for my children to look upon as a sign post of sorts and so they could get to know their father through my words.  So they can know what it is to live a life of pain and struggle, yet emerge through drive and passion for life.

CTK

Death, Insomnia, Gung Fu and Coffee

I spend an inordinate amount of time sipping black coffee at varying Starbucks locations. I once sat down with a warm cup and wrote about my visit to the death scene of a young man who slit his own throat. Perhaps some subconscious neural association attracts me to the coffee shops. Perhaps it my obsessive compulsion to contemplate death. For instance, even today I found myself reading some dark quotes by the late clothes designer Alexander McQueen. Or conversely, perhaps it just speaks to the more mundane aspects of my life. Whatever it is, the elevated levels of coffee in my body are at least a contributory factor for my insomnia.

I need to cut back on the coffee, focus on the fact that I am alive and practice more Gung Fu.

***click on the highlighted links above for further readings

O, Death

“By the ancient Chinese way of thinking, Autumn is the Metal season, the season of Dryness, the season when that which lives withers, fades, falls, and disappears from sight. The green trees briefly are arrayed in the splendor of gold and red, the cool crisp winds causing the leaves to rustle like the robes of the Heavenly Emperor as He passes by. Yang is retreating, its presence in the world decreasing, the liveliness of the Ten Thousand Things changing to a final gathering and preparation for the Winter. The long sleep comes, when (as the Greeks saw it) Persephone will reside in the Underworld and Demeter in her grief will turn her face from the Earth, leaving all that lives buried in frost and snow to survive as best it can.

Autumn is the season of the final ripening, the great and final maturation, the Harvest. What was begun in Spring is now complete. Yang ascends in the Spring, Yang kills in the Autumn. Autumn is the final act of the living, Autumn is the killing season, in Autumn comes Death. Death comes and all that live are under the Harrow.”

From: http://deepesthealth.com/2010/o-death

Best, CTK

Killing Time

“Who has never killed an hour? Not casually or without thought, but carefully: a premeditated murder of minutes. The violence comes from a combination of giving up, not caring, and a resignation that getting past it is all you can hope to accomplish. So you kill the hour. You do not work, you do not read, you do not dayream. If you sleep it is not because you need to sleep. And when at last it is over, there is no evidence: no weapon, no blood, and no body. The only clue might be the shadows beneath your eyes or a terribly thin line near the corner of your mouth indicating something has been suffered, that in the privacy of your life you have lost something and the loss is too empty to share.”

Danielewski

End Of Days

I’ve decided – when I die I only want two things:

1. For my parents to know that they did the best job raising me (they left a legacy behind)

2. To leave my own family legacy behind

Death

The tarot cards have it. A literal interpretation of the card representing death would be erroneous. As a member of the Major Arcana of the Tarot, death is usually depicted as the Grim Reaper. The card actually represents the end of a situation, the coming of age of an event and a new beginning often associated with a psychological awakening.

The tarot cards have it.