A piece I will not write...yet.

I no longer need to return to this cave

Someone, somewhere had given me an idea. It is a great idea. It could just be the headspace I am in but I do not think I will be exploring this at this time. I have spent the last two years excruciatingly eliminating things that excited my grief demons like fresh chum in shark infested waters. Each lecherous, knuckle-dragging, eldritch abomination would descend upon my psyche at even the gauziest of scents of my sorrow. No matter the multitude of impediments I attempted to erect to fend off their assault, upon every revolution around the fiery orb in the sky, the abominations would rend them asunder like a matchstick mansion.

One might ponder that this would be an easier conundrum to circumvent. I could see this being the case, under any other circumstance, except there was a veritable plethora of occasions which came to pass that fed, clothed, housed and assisted in the reproduction of these nightmares of perception, sentiment, sensitivity and sympathy.

I was the steam whistle calling them to duty year after year. Beginning at midnight, as if in some sort of sadomasochistic ritual, I would take down the key, a key crafted out of the frozen tears ripped from my ducts and molded with the clay of my sadness, penetrate the lock and open the vats. The inmates immediately took control of the asylum upon stepping foot out of their cage leaving nothing but chaos and carnage in their wake. Lecherous, knuckle-dragging, eldritch abominations sure do love their fucking overtime. The self-inflicted torment lasted twenty plus years.

A mentor asked “why do you retraumatize yourself?” and gave me a course of corrective action that would allow me to starve those beasts till they were…no more? I will not try to pull the wool over my own eyes and say that it is over. It is just done…for now.

A close confidant asked me “For what purpose did you do that?” and after a moments reflection I arrived at… “Self-aggrandizing pity.” Instead of processing my pain and sorrow, I had weaponized it. Not so much from the standpoint of superiority but from the perspective of hostility towards other’s happiness and believing my perpetual grief mad me uniquely afflicted.

Some caves are better left sealed after we have done the work to dismantle the entryway for good.

Be easy with yourselves,

Sorin Malcontent