A Gift That Cannot Be Returned

In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king.

But is he? Can he really see? Can he really understand? What is colour without words to express it?

Would he not simply just pretend he is also blind? Would he not be confused, depressed, alone?

Would he not be a freak, reviled by those who envy him, decreed as mad, as bad, as disturbed?

Gifts from our creator are complex. A man I knew once told me that what God gave him was a gift that he must take whole heartedly, without either fear or regret. He said I must do the same with my gifts, as must we all.

He died of that tumor. But I think he may have been right.

Plaster Caster.

And so it was that I discovered that I must change, or I must die. I also knew that I had gone so far, and changed so much.

And if I were to still live, I would become a thing I would find unrecognizable from the glassy pane of my morning cast of light. A thing that while not necessarily worse, certainly alien and disheartening.

This is why death exists. It comes for us when change is no longer possible. For the world will change without us, and we adore and loathe it for such cruel wonder.

Die, And Please Stay Dead.

"I could say that I will not be fooled,
(not by you, not again) but all the world knows that is a lie"

- Bartholomew Dutch.

I paid good money to watch you die,

I paid my full, fair share. 

I sold my watch so I could see you die,

But you just didn't care. 

You lived anyway, you insult me with life.

You dwelt where I knew you would, 

You sung and played your bamboo fife, 

Because you knew you could. 

I hated you, I staked you alive,

Over and over again. 

On your face, such a look of surprise,

Over and over to spend. 

I stood in the crowd, or at your side, 

I looked on from above, beneath,

But each and every time you died,

You crawled back with your nails and teeth. 

Have we not fought long enough? 

Have we not seen and felt so much? 

Die now, die now, state my final thirst.

It is either you or I, and I will not go first.

John Trollinski Is My Hero

How To Become A Werewolf.

The idea that a human being could transform into an animal is a myth that has resisted extinction for thousands of years.  Even today there persists in some cultures the belief that werewolves and other such supernatural creatures could exist. Although, it is the writer's humble opinion they are nutters.

The Frog Princess, A typical and well known example of non-voluntary animal transmogrification in folk tales. 

While there are many different types of shape shifters, werewolves and other such things, they are generally divided into two types, Voluntary and Forced (or Non-voluntary). 

The forced transformation can be induced by being cursed with evil magic, drinking water from a werewolf's paw mark in the earth, or being bitten by a werewolf. After this happens, depending on the tale, you will transform into a werewolf every full moon for the rest of eternity until your curse is broken. You will have no power to control yourself while in animal form, and you will seek the blood of innocents (Children, maidens and men of God) to devour and kill. Seemingly sluts and jerks get off scott free. Awesome! 

However while there is forced animal transformation, there is also voluntary transformation. In some stories the werewolves or shape changers are given cloaks or 'Girdles' of animal skin from their masters in hell, when they clothe themselves in these garments they will transform into a wolf or other animal. At other times, there are families of people that can elect to change into animals, and many mythical users of magic have been able to transmogrify, at will, into various animals, a common theme being that they each have a particular personality trait(s) that corresponds to the animal they morph into. 

The forced animal transformation, particularly under the light of a full moon, is a metaphor for the wild, deranged animal we keep buried within us, and when the luna rise occurs, the lunatic is free. This curse is an imprisonment, and was a reaction to people being confused that a kind, good individual could become a madman or a animal in other circumstances.  It is representative of the bestial traits we hate and abborre: Ferocity, stupidity, lust, hunger for violence and weakness of body and mind. 

Conversely, the voluntary animal transformation is one of freedom and letting go of stuffy human limitation. The practice is enjoyed by the practitioners, it is representative of the bestial traits we admire: Strength, nobility, sexual prowess and above all, freedom. 

Animals have always transfixed humans, they have revolted and awed us with their abilities, it is not surprising that we have both longed to become like them and shuddered at the thought of losing our humanity to the ways of the beast. 

Being A Person

People are complex, there is no one thing we are. And people are simple, we are all the same.

Many people struggle with their multi-nature. How can a kind man hit his wife? How can a malevolent dictator be a vegetarian? How can a smiling school-girl be a closet slut? How can a drug abusing athlete be a caring mother? How can charismatic leader of peace be a terrible father?

Being a 'man' is something that is generally considered to be important. Particularly 'your own man'.

I am not my own man, and I never will be. Or perhaps, I am my own man and I always have been. It is my opinion that I am both. But quite honestly, it doesn't even matter, not to me, not to anyone.

The only people it matters to are the people who ask, 'Am I what I should be? Why am I these other things?'.

We have many sides as people. Sometimes we are mature, sometimes we aren't. Sometimes we are good, (whatever that means) sometimes otherwise.

All we need to do, is try, and if you are the kind to do so, hope, that you be whatever you need to be, when you need to be.

There Isn't Really A Reason For It.

It's just easy. And I like the colour. And it makes me feel cool.