The monster, the thing that we all have withing us, the thing we fear, that torments us in the dark of our mind, that pushes to be what we don’t want to be. What is it really?

It is not a thing of claws and horrible sclaes, with a forked tounge and a fanged maw. Of this I am certain, for a such at thing would be obvious.

It is I assure you just as terrible, are far more cunning.

For it is you. Just not the you you want to be.

It is the you that falls a little every time you fail. It is the you that still has that bitterness so strong even when the reason is long forgotten.

It is the you(or me perhaps would be more accurate) that wishes to tear a heart open so they know what it feels like, that wants to say those cruel cruel words. That sees the flaws so clearly, like a snake see’s an exposed ankle, it wants to strike.

But this is not me, not wholly me, since since I do not let the mosnter control me, but it’s become more insidious, it’s whsipered to my pride, and it’s grown. OR it did, I smashed it to size the other day. (And that hurt) It did far more then encourage nasty painfull words, or a refuse to speak when a few words could mean so much. (sometimes silence is the crueler then any word)

Now it’s crept into my character and tried to blind me of my faults, to stop me from countering them, it wishes to trip me up like a rope,(or a cat) and I’ve a need to be ever more watchfull for I hate to make mistakes twice. I do, and now I’m left hopeing I can repair a bridge that I almost lit fire to, and hopeing I don’t make the same mistaketwice.

Breaking free of fualts is so very hard. I’m not a person that takes initative well, I am a passive person, I like to be told what to do, and then jsut do it. I do not communicate well with others and I assume(which is I assure a terrible thing to do) that they will just hope on and say what htey will do. This is a falw, I can hardly begrudge them for not doing as I asked when I never did ask.

So once again I’ve learned a lesson a little later then I’d like but now I know, and I have learned well for it smarts a little still and a little pain with the experince makes it that much more rememborable. So now I’m left knowing I need to push myslef to ask instead of expect, to just do it instead of wonder if it’s being done and to simply do, instead of wait. Waiting isf or lines, busses and docotr’soffices. Not for work, no now I think later,when I’ve more time I will be done with this matter of the mind and will contiune the work with my novel. Galis a spy to spy on Galroy a spectecule to make of himself, and Zephane a nomad to talk to. And of course there may be soem time with Allana in there. Yeah, I’ve gota scene with her, I may write it when I get back from the bus.