[ . . . ] (beatsoul) wrote in ravingtheosophy,
[ . . . ]

Early last year, while sitting in a dim lit theater waiting to see a film on the Kumbh Mela ritual - a friend asked if I was still “battling my demons”.

As this was someone I’m extremely enamored and inspired by – I gave the glib
response “Hell, I’ve just accepted their presence and welcomed them in”.

A truth in itself – but an easier lie than the greater truth of fear and disillusion.

As words can cast fate – it seems I initiated an open-door policy for dark shadows.
It’s been a year of hauntings, this past.

But lately – things seem to be culminating towards that zero point.
A reckoning is at hand.

Partly drug-induced – and part hereditary schizoid parable-unfold – it seems the communion has commenced.

Light flashes glimpsed through peripheries.
Shadows dash in fast passing.
Busy meddling mind parasites.
They whistle while they work . . . (demonsong or symptomatic tinnitus?)

I’m alert to their presence.
I know what draws them out.
I know what riles them up.

They are not me – but of me – and that skewed dharma-self.

Banishment is in order. Their effective usefulness worn.

All the while . . .
the prosperity of career
the commitment to academia
are conspiring to evolve.

Sabbatical. The deconstructionist holiday.

I, the ringleader.
No three-ring circus for trinity seekers.

My ring concentric – infinite.
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