The Secrets of the Night

that crucial question that some frown whimsically at me for asking every day.

the same question that matters so much and yet so deceptively simple

So banal and yet so elusive

“will he/she wake up?”

when all is so serene on the surface the sheer contrast with the inner turmoil of an injured brain frantically firing to restore a fragile normality in some netherworld Armageddon whilst the icy stillness of sleep masks the brutal violence deep inside the sea.

so it was on listening to the account of one sailor’s inexpressible need to disarm herself to the mercy of the Pacific’s humbling expanse that amidst ¬†the many nights of relentless buffeting and capsizing a fear fatigued and weary soul no longer over awed at staring Death in His face finally grasped what the Night guards from our conscience through dulling us in our routines.

She determined to lay out on deck on a fleetingly ephemeral evening of calm and absorbed the night sky letting herself be swallowed fearlessly by the amphitheatre of stars from across the galaxy all shining down on her single mortal frame and she felt the wave of exhilaration that comes from the knowledge and recognition of just being alive and joined to the cosmos in way that she never experienced before or again.

The Misogynaryanist

“So you are the c**t?”
“i am He”
“But I am she, and s before m during S&M”
“you are too clinical,too steely,too precise …you shall never deliver your cause”
“My cause is only me and that is mine to cause because I am the cause”
“Precisely..too male for a female”
“And you are too brown to play the male”
“We are both singular in our portrayals…our identities being the crux of our identities”
“You can never be whole..because I have the hole and that makes me complete…
You on the other hand have a hole that can never be filled”
I will fill it with my identity…I will let it consume me…I will be greater than one…I will be many…and the portrayal of me will be the portrayal of the many,no longer burdened by my own image”

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