Friday, June 10, 2005


"And he asked him, What is thy name? And he answered, saying, My name is Legion: for we are many."
Mark 5:9

I am less of a legion and more of a choir. Instead of singing, we laugh and scream. Between the grand expanses of our songs, we give little bits of dissonance. My favorite is the smallest bit of truth: "you will die alone." When he insists that his solitude is temporary, we rescind and offer other words: "perhaps you're right; we'll be there for you." Like most ideas, there is a little truth in both statements. He will die alone, in the sense that we all die alone. However, I intend to follow him wherever he decides to leave. That's the best part: it will be a decision. Most cling to life for the hope of tomorrow or the fear of the end. He fears nothing and knows no hope: he will let go at the first available opportunity. I'll be there, too, whispering our favorite song "Hello our old friend. I see you've set us free. The forces are in motion."

Until then, we're content to laugh and scream.

sons of midnight

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