Notes #25 - Some Days Are Full of Blah

Typewriter

Notes From an Amateur Writer #25
SOME DAYS ARE FULL ARE BLAH

This Blog series is an exercise in creative writing. Sometimes expressed in short story forms, sometimes as a journal, or just my thoughts written down. This is my attempt to help coalesce my writing ideas and knowledge into usable form. It is a nursery of sorts for the stories that are on their way, or yet to be written.

Wipeout

Sometimes I wonder if life is like trying to catch a wave. Some days you nail it, and ride it into the shore looking for all intents and purposes like a master of all things. And other days the wave looks at you, laughs mockingly, and rips you into a million little pieces.

This past month has been a great wave catching month for me. Most of them have paid off. Even the ones I missed did little harm. Today however just felt like blackness personified. It happens, I know. But sometimes I think that past shit just returns (psychologically, through memories and feelings) and reminds me of things that once were. Dark things. Things I would rather forget. But I'm not sure if we can forget.

I have been riding these waves, the ones that have smoothly lead me to the shore over this past month or so. Utilised it to its fullest. Writing, reading. All of that continues. But I went to ride another wave today, and got smacked hard by the crashing waters. Spun around, tossed to and fro. Lost sense of direction. I remember these days well. Good thing is they pass. They always do. This one will also.

Return To the Past

I have written previously about past health issues, and even my current health situation. This isn't the cause of any black feelings. They go way back. And sometimes they revisit. I finished reading a book today. A novel I thoroughly appreciated, and am working on a book review post to share more details and thoughts. For me it was even quite life changing. At the end of the book the author talks about how the story developed. Now I'm not one to worry at all about 'trigger warnings' as I believe if something 'triggers' us it's because we have a shadow where we have hidden these issues and their emotional ill effects. It wants to come out. It wants to be healed. This is my theory anyway, based on my rudimentary study of Carl Jung, amongst many other psychologists and philosophers.

But it did bring up things for my attention. I hesitate to say buried memories, as they weren't buried, just packed and hidden for later consideration. Later had arrived.

In the Author's Notes section at the end of the novel Crooked God Machine, the author Autumn Christian talks about someone she met who grew up in a strict Christian environment, but had evolved into an Atheist. His experience of God had lead to him experiencing Schizophrenia. He says of his upbringing:

"God stole my life. He stole my family, and I feel so alone," he said

This is my experience. I allude to it, but haven't openly discussed it. There are a lot of people who believe in God, and I don't wish to cause offence. So I censor myself. I will probably still do that. But my experience of God isn't the 'God is Love' variety. It is the one expressed in the Crooked God Machine. Dark, frightening, demanding, and never ever satisfied. I have a theory that is where my Cancer originated from. Like I have something in me that shouldn't be there. Someone else's dark belief system. It became tumorous. As a theory it won't win me the Nobel Prize. But it will probably help me write better stories. That's a prize of sorts.

Facing My Demons

I saw a post here at Steemit yesterday that mentioned an Australian megachurch called Hillsong. About them utilising a new video blockchain idea. People seem to like Hillsong. They are happy, smiley people. What's not to like? Except their founder was a paedophile, and they have been known to harbour others with that bent. And there have been rumours for almost 30 years of dark paedophalistic goings on behind the scenes, including missing children LINK LINK. I grew up in a very similar environment to this church. It's tentacles stretched into my childhood and my upbringing. I will say no more, but connections would probably be easy to make from what I have said. I did not know a happy smiley God. I knew a vengeful God, worshipped by adults that overflowed with self loathing and self hatred. (The public saw the smiles, like they do on the Hillsong videos – but those smiles disappear when the public, and the cameras, are no longer there). The children bore the brunt of that. God never intervened. I often wonder how I did not also end up Schizophrenic. There but for the grace of God go I (I haven't lost my appreciation of the ironic).

Psychopathy is, to me, the ensnaring of good people to utilise their energies. Sounds vampiric because it is. I talked briefly about that when mentioning groups, and how I respect the individual, but distrust the group immensely. The group is psychopathic. I seem to have an emotional clause which means as soon as I get too close to a group I turn and walk. I sabotage, I disappear. Humans are a strange, and at times wonderful bundle of contradictions and oddities. I like this about us. It's when it bleeds over into outright criminality, particularly towards children that I shut down, physically, emotionally. That's when the black days descend. But they go away, they always do.

God is Dead. God Remains Dead. And We Have Killed him.
Nietzsche

Sometimes I wonder if there is yet another God, a higher one, watching over me. Watching over us all. This one wouldn't demand worship or sacrifices. This one wouldn't even have a standard pronoun.

"But what if God exists?" people ask me, "what if you're wrong, and God exists?"
My answer was the Crooked God Machine.
Autumn Christian, Author's Notes, Crooked God Machine.

And sometimes I wonder if there is no God at all. Nothing. Those are the blackest days of all.

My answer, to me more so than anyone else – I try to be the best version of me I can be. I'm not really sure what else I can do.

Gratitude

If you read this far then you are a Saint. I hope I didn't taint your day. Your attention is valuable to me, and appreciated.

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All images used with permission, and sourced from Unsplash.com.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you liked it then please like, comment, and follow

@naquoya

Short Fiction:

Bang Bang You're Dead
I Have No Name and I Must Scream
The Last Book Store
The Judge
The Man In The Mirror
The End of the World [Part 1] [Part 2]
The Locked Room
The Gods of Love and War [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Notes From an Amateur Writer blog series: