%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |   All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know. |
From the time I first learned to tie a blanket around my neck I believed I could be like my idols, a hero; but it would be for no one but myself, as I had to defend my own faith. Faith started out as courtesy to mother and father, to their ethic, tradition -- values instilled and projected on family, friends, neighbors and community that one by one abolished a crusader in tethered linen running through yards and streets majestic. I wasn't fit. I couldn't serve, limited by the values, ethos and traditions of others -- not mine. I contemplated every nudge, get off my block -- each glare or indifferent demeanor -- studied body language, hands on hips or if thrust skyward sending me up, up and away and off to my room, my corner of a world so cold, punitive. It was hard to believe my faith with what they imprinted on me. Green with anger, identifying with powerful monsters, I grew stronger in my fortress, in my resolve that I can be your hero and eat your bullets. I can walk in humid night, dark path leading to four walls -- an anti-hero caged in quiet solitude sought, within knowing, out there someone needs me. And if I knuckle under, I will die a little more, become mortal. I serve darkness and instead yearn light. I'm as public as ever and alone as hell. 11.8.19 4.11.23 edited Monsters don't know their limitations. How am I still alive, thwarting pure evil? |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
