When the Warlock Wakes

I knew a genius once. He was my mentor, actually. Taught me, first in high school. Then, once again, when I entered college. And then, again, when I went for my master’s degree. And my doctorate. And again, afterward.

When I became his assistant.

He taught me a lot. A whole awful lot. About tons of things. Theories and science and things you could see.

And things you couldn’t see.

The man I knew was a genius. An absolute genius. It wasn’t his mind that made him that way, or his IQ. No.

It was his determination. His willingness to explore. To find. Discover. He always saw himself as a pioneer. An explorer. Someone who wasn’t afraid of the turning seas. Of never reaching land again.

Because to him, it didn’t matter.

If he could find the unknown, delve into lands unseen…

If he got his answers, then it didn’t matter.

Nothing did.

I’ve only just recently come to that conclusion. That understanding. The man I knew was a genius, yes.

But at what cost? Continue reading “When the Warlock Wakes”

Questions Breathed

“What in the hell was that?

The question is shouted after two breaths. Precisely two. One breath to remind him of where he now is, and one breath to remind him of where he once was. To remind him that he had just been shot out of a wormhole, or vacuum, or whatever else you’d like to call it. To remind him that this place is far from the last, and the last is far from the first. And all things considered above are far from the finish.

What I mean to say is that two breaths was all it took for him to realize:

He has no idea what is going on.

And, to me, someone who was born to guide, it seems inconceivable. Inconceivable, not because I, myself, always know things or always know where I am or what is going on and why.

But inconceivable in how extremely, profoundly, earth-shatteringly relatable the question was.

What a good question.

So, as response, I did what any of us would do.

I laughed. Continue reading “Questions Breathed”

Bile Talk

There are a thousand realities. Of possibilities. Of things that are.

Sidestep into the reality next to yours, and things are just a smidge different. Continue on that path, however…

…and you’ll find yourself in a realm of questions.

In a realm of mysteries.

In a world you could never recognize on your own.

And yet, you have to know:

It is still your world?

No matter how different you look. No matter how different it feels. No matter how different you act.

There is a “you” here.

At least, that’s true for most.

For most. Continue reading “Bile Talk”

Resistance and Right–The Unfairness of Soulmates

Everybody has something in their life that they’re looking forward to. A point that they desperately, truly, sincerely want to reach. Sometimes, it’s a particular age, or it can be a specific place, or for some it’s a specific status they achieve.

But there’s one thing in this world that a vast majority of people look forward to, and that thing is:

Meeting your soulmate.

When you meet your soulmate, they say your heart lights up. It turns into a vibrant color. So bright, in fact, that it can be seen even through the thickest of clothes. Your soulmate’s heart will light up the same color, at the same time, right when you cross paths for the first time. And that’s how you’ll know you’ve found The One.

Then you can ride off into the sunset or whatever. Get brunch or go straight to the courthouse or a chapel and make things official.

Personally, I think it’s stupid.

Well, no.

Not stupid.

I say that as a coverup. A way to sidestep the real issue.

Personally, I think meeting your soulmate is kind of…

…well.

Terrifying.

Continue reading “Resistance and Right–The Unfairness of Soulmates”

Consumed and Fading

Do you know what hatred is?

Real, true, hatred?

The pure kind. The kind that is undiluted by human compassion, or by strong belief, or unavoidable morals.

That’s the kind of hatred I’m talking about.

It isn’t some fire in your veins at the mention of their name. That’s anger. You can be disgusted by a person and not hate them. Hatred, the kind that I’m talking about, is something different. It isn’t a fire. It isn’t an emotion. It isn’t a state of mind.

It’s a state of being.

When your hatred is pure, it consumes you. Crams itself into your mind, during your waking hours as well as your sleeping ones. It brings this sense of dread, of hunger. And it’s as unavoidable as thirst.

You long for something.

You just don’t know exactly what it is.

But it’s very directed.

Hatred isn’t the emotion of disliking something or someone.

It’s the need to eradicate.

Have you ever experienced that? Have you ever been consumed by the destruction of something, or someone, else? Have you ever looked at the idea of something and, every time you do, you find yourself wishing that it never existed in the first place?

That’s hatred.

Because even if something exists in a state of suffering, at least it still exists.

But, after I’m done…

She won’t.

Not anymore. Continue reading “Consumed and Fading”