Day 18: Once More, Into the Breach

After four decades on Terra Earth, I have fome to an understanding. Every world has a separate set of fears for each soul which comes to visit. The visitors never know what the fears are and have to figure it out on their own. This is a higher level of consciousness that many never achieve.

I came to this understanding at sometime during the last twenty-four hours.

Stephen King tried to convey this level of consciousness in a series that was published over a span of thirty years. In the Dark Tower, Roland Deschain (The Gunslinger,) comes to face his own fears while an inhabitant of Middle Earth on his Journey along the Beam to the Dark Tower. Essentially it is similar to my plight. Every day, he goes...into the breach.

For me the breach is dark. I am afraid of the dark. Even as a child, the dark was not one of my favorite times. I tjought oily t strange because I loved to star gaze. Well, maybe that is not so strange because the stars illuminate the dark.

Every night, I prepare myself. I have no choice...to enter into the darkness. It's not so bad when I am dog tired. I just turn the light off, run to the bed and pass out. Nothing to face, fight or fear. Its different when I am alone with my thoughts.

The voices are always long gone when it becomes trench warfare.  They desert me and retire to their havens in the library of my mind. I am. Utterly. Alone. This may be ok for a Squidward or such but I am not such a creature. Besides, he had light when he was alone.

While in the warzone, this dark, my brain becomes clever and cruel. I begin to think about things that are horrible and destructive. The digressions are NEVER announced. They are all random and seldom humorous. While the thoughts and images which race through my mind, they never stop for conversation and it is never pleasant. The chaos make me tired and hurts my being. It. Never. Stops. There is no one to ask: what do YOU think?

Yes, some of my ideas come to me during these moments but many of them (ironically) never see light because I am too tired, petrified, angry, and exhausted to get up and jot them down. Even the thought of recording the random blurb on my phone feels like work. I just...can't.

Maybe this is why Mr. King sleeps with I the light on. I dont know. It is now night here. As each day passes, I find it harder every time the sun sets. My brain, laughing, tell me...its time...

Once again. I prepare to go into the breach.

**Micaa grabs her rifle. Holds it above her head and runs, screaming, into the night. AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!** In th distance the reader hears-faintly:.
Ratta tatta tatta tatta.....echoes. The sound of rapid gunfire.

Face your fears. Do not let them have power over you.

What do YOU think?