ramblings in the night

Fair warning, if you don’t understand what I’m talking about or at the very least how my mind works, then you’re not going to and I have no intention of explaining myself.

Something is coming; there is no doubt about that. I’ve felt it for months now, like an itch in the back of my mind. I can feel in my bones, hear it in my sleep, and in my dreams, against the horizon I see an outline. Outline of what? Something that I believed destroyed long before history. A shape against the clouds of something that shouldn’t, no, couldn’t still be there. A memory burned into my soul that I cannot escape, no matter how hard I’ve tried. A tower, all that remained of a once great and beautiful city, now twisted and dark. Sometimes I find myself wondering if this is how Roland felt. The difference is this tower holds no answers and I am no Gunslinger.

Most people don’t understand what its like to wake up with memories of things that they have never done, places they have never seen, and people they have never known. In a way I envy them. It is very easy to dismiss the things in my head as simple dreams, compilations of books that I have ready over the years, movies I have seen, and so forth. Many times I have told myself just that, it’s all in your head. But what happens when someone else describes these things to you? What happens when someone tells you about their dreams (nightmares?) and they mirror your own? What does it mean when you walk into a place you’ve never been and suddenly know not only your way around but also where things are? What happens when you close you eyes and you can describe events that took place there in centuries past, without every having learned the history of the place? Well, Freud? Where are your answers now?

Questions upon Questions. I gave up searching for answers long before this life. When confronted with these things you have two choices, cling to your view of the “real” world and allow these images to drive you mad. Or, you can embrace it, which is perhaps madness in itself. I listen to the whispers of a past that is mine and not at the same time. I listen and I look for the patterns that run through out history. Recently, Angel posed the question, what do you do when the darkness comes to your doorstep. Do you run? Hide? I don’t know the right answer or even if there is one. I remember my answer from the days when a great city fell. You fight and you become something that the darkness fears. (How very Batman of you.) You push back against the night so hard it has no choice but to acknowledge you and eventually fear you. These are not the movies however. There is no shining hero at the end of these battles, no white knight to emerge, cloaked in honor and valor. In order to become that which the darkness fears above all else, you must become something that the light will fear as well. After its all over, where does that leave you?

They say there is forgiveness for the repentant, but how do you repent driving back the darkness?