Well, what can I say. It has been a somewhat active year for me to be honest. I finished my morbid tale 'The Abbey de Excessus' roughly one month ago with the solemn outlook that once that was completed, I would forever be finished as a writer.
This is an endeavor I have dedicated my life to for over 21 years. And, just like so many others before me, the passion to keep going forward with it has all but disappeared. The whole of this time I kept a standard that I would never deviate from. A standard that made sure every one of my macabre stories were one hundred percent original, for I always considered the mere concept of plagiarism pure anathema. Keeping that standard high for over two decades can be rather taxing, especially when one has the rest of life's upkeeps to consider.
Yet, I don't feel that the other side is totally finished with me. Truth be told, there is not one story that I've completed that wasn't in some way or form inspired by the other side. And I've always felt that my tales more or less basically wrote themselves in that regard.
That being said, I have the same mysterious process suddenly taking me over again, regardless of my protestations and hesitant nature. So, I honestly have no idea if I have any say so in ceasing my aspirations which can be both Ironic and fear provoking if you really think about it. What comes next, to me, is an absolute mystery. I honestly have no idea. All I can basically say is that we as mortals truly have no defense to the wills of the supernatural. I may be partaking this journey, a journey I decided to opt out of some time ago, whether I want to or whether I don't.
