Everyone has demons. Big, small, fanged or riddled with tentacles, we all have those inner twitchings that make us more, and less, than who we are. They define us, push us, hold us back, bully us forward. Mine have the surprising and frustrating ability to do all of the above simultaneously. It makes for the most silent and bitter struggles, self against created self, to keep control over my life and not let them have their way with me. I don't alway win. And it's entirely my own damn fault. The balance of power tips over to my inner demons when I allow others to let their demons play in my backyard, breaking my toys and leaving giant piles of dung in their wake.
I need to quit watching the news.
It's not healthy.
Why do we insist on knowing so much of other people's demons? Does it make it easier to ignore our own, pretend ours don't have claws just as sharp? Or does it quiet them, knowing that there are other, larger things that would eat them whole for a snack?
No, I'm not talking of tsunamis, or earthquakes, or any other disaster--natural or man made.
I speak of those who should be silent, yet squawk loudest of all. Those that have nothing but doom, gloom, and dire predictions. Or who broadcast vices and problems like it's something to be proud of and quickly forgiven and forgotten. The politicians. The 'celebrities'. The psudo-news agencies.
You know who you are.
I have a small collection of really interesting knives that I've collected over the years. But none of them have a specific purpose. They are blades, and blades in my mind can be used for ever so many things. But I think I need a new, exquisitely honed blade that I can dedicate to just one single, specific usage. One so sharp that it can slice deeply before the pain registers, and so dexterously thin that it can carve its way around even the most delicate vein.
I'm cutting out the rotten and damaged bruises that other people's demons have left me with. And keeping them at bay with a glitter in my eye, and protective fierceness in my heart. My demons are dragon enough for me to handle. I don't need to welcome them into my heart, house, or home. No more newscasts for me. No more self-indulgent Facebook friends. I'm not reading another Tweet that has links to yet another late breaking story of doom and gloom. Keep your demons.
And get off my lawn.
I need to quit watching the news.
It's not healthy.
Why do we insist on knowing so much of other people's demons? Does it make it easier to ignore our own, pretend ours don't have claws just as sharp? Or does it quiet them, knowing that there are other, larger things that would eat them whole for a snack?
No, I'm not talking of tsunamis, or earthquakes, or any other disaster--natural or man made.
I speak of those who should be silent, yet squawk loudest of all. Those that have nothing but doom, gloom, and dire predictions. Or who broadcast vices and problems like it's something to be proud of and quickly forgiven and forgotten. The politicians. The 'celebrities'. The psudo-news agencies.
You know who you are.
I have a small collection of really interesting knives that I've collected over the years. But none of them have a specific purpose. They are blades, and blades in my mind can be used for ever so many things. But I think I need a new, exquisitely honed blade that I can dedicate to just one single, specific usage. One so sharp that it can slice deeply before the pain registers, and so dexterously thin that it can carve its way around even the most delicate vein.
I'm cutting out the rotten and damaged bruises that other people's demons have left me with. And keeping them at bay with a glitter in my eye, and protective fierceness in my heart. My demons are dragon enough for me to handle. I don't need to welcome them into my heart, house, or home. No more newscasts for me. No more self-indulgent Facebook friends. I'm not reading another Tweet that has links to yet another late breaking story of doom and gloom. Keep your demons.
And get off my lawn.
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