Journal Entry #1
“Feeding your own Gators”
My own gators. Feed those monsters inside me. If I don’t, they will fester and feed on me. Eating me slowly from the inside out. Who are these monsters? They are the dark matter within the depths of my mind. They are a black hole summoned by vicious thoughts and temptations that suck my being inward, suffocating my true intentions, masking my whole heart. I deny their existence. Not because they never existed, but because you are not your past, nor a collection of your ongoing thoughts. These evils that yearn to be exorcised, as the teach called it, are nothing more than indulgent desires. The formula for ridding their existence exists in denouncing their being.
Yeah- I know my vices. There are blemishes on my perfect intent. I long for perfection and fall short in comparison. I willfully refuse to surrender my integrity. It is a paradox of give and take. Perfection that never exists and the ongoing pursuit, despite my attempts to castrate myself with these tendencies they are apart of me, but I am not apart of them. My flesh and my human nature, abiding to the fundamental laws of the universe, knows no other commands. My will is steadfast, but my mind is penetrable. Lurking behind the actions that solemnly swear to my manifested thoughts are those actions, the lure of sultry eyes, that peer into the shadows looking for comfort in the shade. Light is my guiding force that illuminates my path. Yet- the same path, cannot be seen clearly when I turn to look at the darkness behind and around me. That very light that leads me, casts the very shadows that cause me to stumble. That cause my eyes to fixate on things that are unreal but so very visible.
The gators- those reptilian creatures that drag their bodies on the soiled earth. Cold blooded and anxiously waiting for the opportunity to lash their vengeance upon another victim. They brood in the depths of the soul. Denying it’s existence is denying the imagination. The soul is apart of you. That swirling mass of mixed decisions. You pluck every premeditated action from this pool of filth, looking to nab the little shard of good worth to fend off the gators. Human nature. The flesh. Our soul, being constructed by the will to routinely plunge our hand into the cesspool of right and wrong. We do not necessary have to have a conscious when we feed those dark creatures. We fan the flames but never add fuel to the fire. We escape conviction, yet acknowledge their presence. Those evil desires. They eat and claw and bellow like a smoldering dragon.
We do good just to keep ourselves from drowning. Some people rarely give it that much thought. We do good to keep ourselves from drowning. Do people give any thought to the pool, to the reptiles that we chase, and grab us, pulling us under.
William Dare 