We Must Dare

I’m starting to think that Loki, the Norse god of mischief, has reincarnated in the shape of political news. Either that, or the air in my local pharmacy brings the raging crazy out of people. No fistfight, this time around, but only because the security guard on duty put an end to the lively discussion before the words of the pusher of buttons, the oozer of crappy-gold-plated rot, the orangey spite really got under every skin and caused a massive burst. I still can’t understand why they don’t change the channel to something less inflammable, like… The Short but Explosive Romance of Matchstick Girl and Dynamite Boy. Anyhoo, my pencil and I crafted the following blackout while waiting for my remedies:

All his illusions spread, plunder, dishearten… all.

 

The next blackout bit birthed rather interesting conversations. The ones that stuck with me (because I found them bemusing), were views that suggested that friendliness isn’t all that difficult if people really mean it. Nope, I’ve no idea what that means. Maybe the eyes of your brilliance are open wider than my own, and you’ll be able to tell me. I really wish to know how one can be friendly to all, without limitation, without thought, without knowing…

Unconditional friendliness is an art.

 

When I shared the bit below, I received a whole lot of agreement. This made me glad. I know, my Wicked Luvs, without clarification my gladness might seem a tad callous. But my delight was born out of knowing that every person who said “me too” to this blackout has loved. And we all know how the old saying goes, “It’s better to have loved and have been disappointed than to go around wondering why so many risk heart and sanity to get some.” Yes, I’m quite sure that’s how the saying goes. Really. Stop arguing already!

I know love…
and disappointment.

 

My last offering, for the day, is an invitation: now that horror is ordinary, and hope is turning into a mythical beast only seen by the innocent and the daring, we must dare to see, we must dare to think, we must dare to learn, we must…

Dare to hope.

We must, my Wicked Luvs.

 

à la Magaly

Remember that bit about how Life Is Selfish…? Well, I think life dearest took offense to my rather rash words and decided that I obviously did not know the meaning of selfish, and since she adores dealing in lessons, she would take the time to show me how things work when she truly chooses to be in charge.

My schedule is a mess. I usually get at least one day of the week that is just for me, but… no more. I’ve done my ranting and teeth baring. Now, I shall sit still on Chaos’s head, facing forward, waiting until I can drop onto his shoulder and ride him through the mess, until he stops bucking and we start dancing as one.

Until that wondrously tidy dance starts, I shall do what I always do. 

“Overuse the words shall and bit more than is decent?” says the exasperating voice of my Maddening in-Head Editor. 

No, you nosy little bastard, I shall do things à la Magaly. 

“In French? Oh, I didn’t know you could—” 

If you would let me write uninterrupted for 3 seconds, I might—

Um… sorry, my Wicked Luvs, my in-head editor’s mouth is bigger than mine at times *cough*. Anyway, I will approach things the Magaly way. I will work with what I have, when I can, in ways that satisfy my creative wants and needs. Yep, it shall be me, me, me—

“And me?” 

Yes, and you, Maddening in-Head Editor, since one must never lose sight of one’s insanity.  

So, the shape of my blogging will change… again. I shall post more often than I did before. But the posts will be short and seldom linked to prompts. I predict micro-fiction, cherita, haiku, tanka, and senryū dancing cheerfully (and wildly) with pictures, bits of witchy living, and glimpses into my writing day.

I think those of you who have been with me since the beginning will like this. Me? Well, I’m certain I shall love every bit of it. The days ahead look shadow-clad and murk-kissed, so I’m strapping on my wings. The Muse and I, and yes, the Maddening in-Head Editor, too, know just how to soar in the dark.

Fly with me…

 


The stunning work of my dear friend, Stacy, mistress of Magic Love Crow.