"All I can hear is my blood flow / Why I'm still here, I really don't know
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions / But nothing here can come to my salvation
In the dark, there's an answer / Fade to black, and now remember
If I should fall from grace with God / It wouldn't mean a fuck at all
I traveled down that road before
[It]... All... Dies."
- Skold, All Dies.
I had a dream two days ago that I swear was 'sent' to me. It invovled a very 'Ceremonial' process of embodying the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse as the 'four guardians' of the corners, etc. Upon waking up I was chilled to the bone. I've determined not to record it except this mention, because if there's one ritual I've ever had pop into my head certain to drive people insane - something I told whatever was explaining it to me in the dream - it's that one.
I am afraid I have to post-pone or simply call off the article I was writing with Joshua Carfax for the first issue of Bluebird. Which doesn't mean I'm withdrawing my support for their project; I just can't write right now. It's a daily struggle with depression and more importantly for me, a lot of anger that's been eating away at me. My significant other has gotten the worst of it, and unfortunately watched my wild mood swings. Some days are fine and I feel like writing. Other days all I have to say is nasty comments and reactionary anger towards both life and other people (not her, of course, nor anyone close to me beyond a very specific few).
I'm writing, during the bouts of insomnia and then just... endless sleep... more of the "Unsent Letters" and preparing to make an altar to my dead. Maybe, I think, it'll give me 'peace' inside my headspace. Beyond that it's just randomly written scribblings and a lot of meditation so I don't rip out throats or scream at people without a reason.
Let's hope JC forgives me, 'eh?