Jan. 1st, 2012

dclarion: (Default)
The calendar calls this a New Year.  I recognized my New Year ten days ago, for reasons astronomical and philosophical.  The date does not matter; what matters is that I have much to do, much that I expended great effort to avoid over the previous fifty-four years.  I spent my life running from the things that beset me; I traded my soul for shoe leather and bus tickets.  I have no more to trade, but if I desired, I could go ever deeper into debt to continue running.  I will not.

I am frightened.  I am terrified of the future.  It was my fear, my terror of what might befall me, that set me to running in the first place.  No matter where I ran, my fears followed.  I could find some other place to run, I could attempt to hide behind panes of glass, but I will not find peace until I stand and face my fears.

I am alone.  I am afraid.  But is that not how each of us come into this world, how so many of us leave it?  I look around me, at the little comforts I have, I think of how much I gave up to have them.  I have but one last thing of value; I treasure that thing enough to hold onto it with all the strength I have left.

I have Diana Athena Clarion.  I will not lose her.  I will not give her up.

May 2013

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