Isn't it quite humorous that when one actually thinks they have a degree of control in their own lives, much less the rest of the world, life has a way of proving them otherwise.
Honestly, the last two years I have quit writing all together a few times yet I always find myself drawn back to it from the every mysterious will of the divine. A will I can't possibly ignore. And now, just as then, the process repeats itself.
I find the same haunting imagery filling my mind once again, with little to no understanding of it's origin. This time around, these images are of sadness and despair. Conditions of the human experience that seem to elope all others in terms of abundance. Where the direction of these images will take me is anyone's guess, but one thing is for sure: I have no choice in participating with them. Whether I like it, or not.
This new tale will be called 'A Kiss of Death: The Countenance of Devils '. That is all I do know...for now.
