Going with the Flow.

 

I've been finding myself lately keeping some rather odd hours sitting at the computer, writing, erasing, repeating, sometimes at night, sometimes during the day, usually whenever the mood strikes me. What I'm finally learning is not to force anything, let it come in its own due time. I used to try to make myself write at least a few pages a day, I pushed it, and it slowed the creative process to a painful crawl, and it became uninteresting, and dare I say, boring to me.  I'm not now, nor have I ever been under the delusion that I'm a writer in any real sense, it's always been something I did because I enjoyed it. Here lately I've been writing every day, making new stuff, continuing on with old stuff, that's the part that I think is making it work this time around, I don't have to write, I do it when I want to do it, and whatever comes out, that's what I write. It just flows better that way, the words just fit better, and I'm not over thinking it, I'm just doing it. yeah, that works for me.

Finding Sanity, In an Insane World.

It's hard to escape it sometimes, it's everywhere you look, to the left of center, to the right, in every direction. it's there, no matter where you try to shift your attention, It's staring you right in the face. The insanity that has become a part of our daily reality, you try to focus on something positive, but the more you try, the more it becomes less likely that you will somehow make sense of it all. It's everywhere you look, it's there to hit you in the face as soon as you step outside of your front door, and no matter how fast you walk, run or ride, it's inescapable.

The price of gasoline, the price of food, of housing, it feels like you can't breathe sometimes, when you begin to feel like everything that you thought you were in control of is starting to slip through your fingers and from your grasp, like you're clutching at sand. Stop, lean forward, rest your hands on your knee's and breathe in through your nose and out of your mouth, there that's it, now step back away from the lunacy, set the weight down, don't worry it'll still be there when you come back to it. There now, close your eyes, take a deep breath, good, open your eyes and take a good look around you, and don't forget to take stock of the situation, see for us? here in the trenches? it isn't about control, we never had it, for us? it's about weathering yet another storm. So, we're going to deal with it and hope, and maybe even pray, it's going to get better, because it has too.

The Order of The Light.

They had for years wandered in darkness, forever engulfed in it, it consumed them. Their dreams, their passions, their zest for life itself. Lost, they wandered, without ever knowing hope, nor dreaming dreams, lost they were, not only to their world, but to themselves. They sat huddled in small circles, speaking only in short shallow whispers, patiently waiting for the instrument of their own demise to show itself to them, and to devour each in its own way. Fear and doubt was the nightly feast, it was all that they knew, until from out of their darkness came a voice to them. It spoke of hopes and dreams, and life lived to be shared. The voice from out their darkness said something existed beyond the dark, something that they never dared whisper or even think about, the voice spoke to them of Light.

“I am Johan The Traveler, I have seen light, bright beyond belief, it lives in a place beyond the mountains, beyond the sea, far, far beyond all that you think you know of this place you walk. Follow my voice and I will help you not only find this light, but to live your lives in it. Come with me and dread not the despair of darkness, come with me to the light.”

“Foolish Boy. There is no light in this place. You speak of folly, for here there is only darkness and the death that waits in it.”

“No. you are wrong, you do not live in darkness, you exist in it. You wait for death here, where it lives, where it breeds. Come with me to the light, for only in that you will live.”

Many followed the voice of Johan the Traveler, even those who did not believe followed so they could prove him a liar. They followed Johan long into their endless night, through raging storms of snow, rain and ice, and always when they thought it too difficult to continue on their journey Johan was there to encourage them. Until they began to see the glow, beyond the mountains, beyond the sea, beyond all that they thought they knew. There. Right there. In the distance burned a brilliant hue of the brightest gold, for there burning in the distance, they saw a Light. Though some were amazed that such a beautiful sight could possibly exist, still the doubters doubted. They plotted throughout the remainder of the journey against Johan, they spoke secretly of peril, and murder. And when opportunity showed itself, they stabbed him and fled, back into the darkness from which they came, and Johan’s followers spoke to him for the very last time they were frightened to go back into the endless night.

“Johan, what must we do our friend? If you are to die, we will not find the light without you, our dreams are for nothing.”

Johan sat up and drew a strong breath as he spoke to them calmly while the life slowly slipped from his body.

“My friends. Why did you follow me for so long?”

“We do not know Johan.”

“Yes you do my friends. You followed me because you dared to believe that somewhere there lived more than darkness, you believed that you could dream and have more life than ever before. You followed a dream, because you believed in it. You still must believe, or the light will die.”

Now frightened at the thought of the only light dying, they gathered closer to their friend Johan. He looked up at them.

“My Friends, there is no mysterious light beyond the mountains or sea that you seek, the light that guides you, the only light that you need lives in your hopes and dreams, let it guide you, let it feed you, let yourselves believe, for as long as there are hopes and dreams, there is light, you must now leave and go forth. Go forth, my friends. Live in the light.”

~Scratch A.B.T. Copyright © 2006~

I Had Coffee and Biscuits with My Friend The Crow This Morning.

 

My friend the crow visited me again this morning, I woke up around 6:30 and wiped the crusty's out of my eyes and washed my face and went to the kitchen for some coffee, it wasn't terribly cold, so I grabbed a chair and small table and put them outside my front bay window and   came back inside for my coffee, and had odd hunger for a couple of left over biscuits that I made a couple of nights ago. I grabbed my notes for a new UFO story outline that I've been wanting to work on. 

when I sat down and opened the folder, I heard a commotion above me. He landed on the handrailing next to the table and immediately began squawking at me, considering his width and over all size I'm guessing that it is a male, and judging from his size this boy is huge. It seemed to be the same crow that I'd had several conversations with last year, same head markings, the same off color feathers on its chest, okay, so here comes the part that I didn't expect. 

We were talking away, and I noticed that he was looking at my biscuits, So ever so slowly I broke off a piece and set it by his feet and he actually ate it. So we sat there and talked over coffee and biscuits, well, mostly he talked, and I listened, I'm not sure exactly what he was saying, but he seemed to really be into it, so I just let him go with it. Finally, after some time passed, he got his fill of the biscuits and flew away.  I left a few large crumbs on the railing and came back inside. I've always contended that crows possess a high level of intelligence, and they know who and what they can trust. I love Crow's they're so beautiful. that was probably the best breakfast I've had in a very long time.

Facebook is Dead To Me

 

Back in the early fall of 2011 I used to write on a blog site called Blogstream, it was my home away from home on the internet, like most other websites however it was not without its problems. There were small pockets of cliques, and there was some in fighting, but for the most part people got along fairly well, slowly but surely in late October I began to notice a decline in interest, by then Myspace and began its decline and Facebook seemed like the place to be. By the middle of 2012 Blogstream's home page had become a mixture of actual users and ad blogs, and before September, Blogstream announced that it was shutting down. I moved most of my writing here, mostly to archive it, to get it on the web, I still write here but not like I used to. The traffic here, much like Blogstream is drying up, Facebook to me seems to be a social media anomaly, it is starting to feel like the only reason it is still here is because it's too stubborn to die. and now I have to ask, how much longer does Facebook have? for me, it's already too late, the payoff isn't worth the effort, I think I'm just bored with it, and the only reason I keep it open is I have a few family members and friends there that I like to keep track of how they are doing, otherwise it's literally useless to me. Instagram and Threads that's where I spend most of my time now, my occasional attempts to kickstart my Echoes blog is spotty, but I need to spend more time here and less time spent on wondering if Facebook is dead or dying, I just can't bring myself to care anymore, websites are like places you used to visit, places that you visit less and less in your lifetime, until they eventually fade into memory. Echoes to me is like visiting an old friend, as soon as I open the page I know that I'm home. Maybe it's just a comfort thing, social media in general is still a very strange thing to me, what's here today may last through tomorrow, but beyond that it will only last until something shiny and new comes along to peak people's interest, there always going to be the next big thing, hiding just out of sight, around the next corner, and people will blindly chase after it, like hounds to a fox.

~Scratch A.B.T. Copyright © 2025~