We all have a dark side. I’m not afraid of mine. I don’t know if I discussed this another posting, I’m thinking I did, or not, but if I did… so what.

So this last Wednesday, as my local writing group was finishing up our quiet focused hour, we started discussing our progress. I used that time to ask another writer, who is working on a story in ancient Egypt if lacquer is used in body preservation. I got a number of strange looks from the other participants. To be fair we didn’t have very many regulars that day and the majority of them were first times (and last?) to the group. I then turned to address the group and said, “I need to know how viable it would be in preserving a freshly killed body.” Their looks only soured further.

The group lead started chuckling as she has grown accustomed to my antics/personality. She said, “I really like your dark side. You have a real grasp on it and have fun with it.”

I found myself nodding. I would like to think I do. To be fair, it can go much darker but that is not what this topic is about. It’s about my skipping across the murky pond that resides within my subconscious and coming out the other side with only a few skip marks on my persona. Hopefully, I never have to go there out of necessity. Ever since my kids were born, I knew I had it in me to kill in order to protect them should the need arise. My thoughts have also gone in the opposite direction no thanks to sleep deprivation. With my son now eight, and daughter now twelve, I have also embraced the thought of going to prison for the rest of my life should anyone threaten either of them. On the flip side, heaven help my kids if they would cause harm upon somebody else’s kids. Homey don’t play that.

I find myself thinking back to Dwight again. That was a person, much like a person who never learned to wipe their butt correctly, never developed a healthy means of playing with their inner demons. This got me thinking, have I been picking on Dwight out of a twisted sense of perversion on my part? Is Dwight a handy-special person who just doesn’t know any better? If so, then I owe her an apology. I had no idea you were ‘gifted’ in your limitations.

Now, if you feel the above is in any way insulting or that you are indeed ‘not special’, take heart. You will always be special in my heart. I know with some people they were diapers before going to bed because they never master basic human bladder control kindness. Are you one of these people?

Here’s the thing. I know you are not as you have said to my face after reading my blog-posts so many times, “I have been called worse by far better people.” Those are big words and they were used in the correct context. You piss-passed your urine all on your own. You pissed all over yourself of your own volition. You bathe in it as wear its musk like a badge of honor.

Is my d(a/o)rkness showing again? ‘Funny’ you should ask? Let me try to not skip around the answer. Life is short. Life is about death. Upon our very creation, we are all destined to die. Why not try to have a little fun with it just so long as we don’t go around pissing each other other off?

Okay, its time I put a diaper on this stream of thought and get back to my story* again…

*(The next installment for my character named the Puppy Kicker)