I’m a nervous wreck, I am calm.

This is what it amounts to… all of it.

It has been a long life and an even longer year. A year filled with irreplaceable losses and inconvenient truths. One tainted with mistakes, lies and betrayals. All of which scream louder and louder as the fall comes, the last day of a season about to be left behind. All the years, all the learning all the countless times that one has failed and love has been lost and broken, it all comes down to this… the defiance of suppression, the defiance of sadness and the defiance of the uncanny ability of  this world to kill one’s soul dead. This is what it is to believe, to hope and to go all the way at whatever the cost. This is what it is to be human. Time it is here…

The End

and Bastille sings…

All this bad blood here, won’t you let it dry?
It’s been cold for years, won’t you let it lie?

For those who have left with scorn, I do not hold on to you, leave, be in peace. For those harbouring hate and sleeping with knives under their pillows and guns aimed against my back while smiling to my face, leave, you cannot kill me, you cannot destroy me, leave and I will think no less of you.

The Beginning.

and Bastille continues…

“That these are the days that bind you together, forever
And these little things define you forever, forever”

For the few who remain at the end, standing by me, tall as the pillars of my universe and I am grateful, small mercies, the only ones that matter.

Talia, you have been the singular force that has kept dragging this dream out of the abyss every time the waking world has threatened it.
B you are new amongst these stars and yet the faith you have shown has echoed louder than the fallen.
Dharshan, “I was the match and you were the rock, maybe we started this fire”
The ghosts that walk beside me, I have kept my promise and I can only hope you are proud.

In twenty four hours I let out, into light, my thoughts and my dreams that have hidden in the darkness for so long, crippled by fear and uncertainty and self doubt. I bid them well; find new homes, find those who need you.

To the old season I bid thee goodbye…

“To absent friends, lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the devil his due.”
― Neil GaimanThe Sandman, Vol. 4: Season of Mists

For today there is no turning back, for today we have won.