All of my life seems to be good at the moment and yet the same old demons returned today with a vengeance.
I know I’ll get through it, I always do, but the monster is well and truly out of the closet and, if you’ll excuse the metaphorical mixing, the Djinn will return to the bottle when (s)he’s good and ready!
Scary Place was one of my earliest works, from a time I would rather forget. A torrid time where I shut out the world after a 3-day solid drinking binge and a failed suicide attempt – a jammed shotgun mechanism is not a cry for help! But if I were to cast it from my mind, the lesson would be unlearned and such a fragile sanity may shatter beyond repair. These were the first words that finally brought me back from the very precipice of oblivion:
In the depths of despair I sit, amongst the other dregs of humanity
Staring blankly at a wall of silence – no fear, no feeling, no thought,
No reason, no clarity and little left of my sanity –
Nightmares are free and dreams cannot be bought.
In desperation I open what’s left of my mind to the world around me,
Fighting to find some shred of earthly ties.
Realisation of what I am now astounds me –
I have to act, cannot stay here; reclaim my status in her eyes.
But wait! That’s how I arrived in this place of shattered illusion.
Reminders of my past bring back the pain.
The emptiness and confusion
Return, to steal my mind again.
Crawl back inside myself and leave the world outside.
It’s not so bad in here after all.