12:37 26/01/2021
To my dear Sweet…
Did I just write the date as 2021? Damned Time. She’s been behaving in that discourteous way of hers again. As if everybody wanted to move along as fast as possible. I think Time forgets that some of us like to enjoy ourselves, and some of us like to enjoy exactly where we are. The present. Time does give us that pleasure, of course, every once in a while. And I agree that at other moments, maybe I don’t want her to move so slowly. At those moments, I’d love for Time to hurry herself along. But that’s not what I’m complaining about today. Today, I’ve just noticed that I’m standing upon unfamiliar grounds. Upon unknown territory. This early in the season, everything is pretty unknown. Just writing 2021 felt wrong. Felt undesirable. Maybe because there’s something I left behind in 2020. Maybe something I left behind long before that, even. But there she goes. Time. Best not to lose her, lest I lose my way forever.
I guess folk like us can’t help but have him around.
Damned Time. She is not even the reason I wished to write to you today, my darling. No. I’ve another somebody that we need to go over. Her dense little cousin. The one you always see beside me, giving me his two cents. You know exactly who I’m talking about. Don’t you, my darling. Don’t think that I’ve never noticed our dear friend always in your company as well. I guess folk like us can’t help but have him around. Pride.
It’s a shame because I know he has. A shame because I let him.
Oh yes. Today, I need to talk about him. Folk have been continuously telling me again and again that he has been getting in my way. It’s a shame because I know he has. A shame because I let him. I’m too used to relying on his protection. Relying on his might. He’s always been there for me. To help me prevail over these cruel tides. He’s always been there for us, I should say. I know he has always been there for you too, my darling. I thank the Father above for that. But I also know that he has been one of the biggest reasons as to why you’re no longer in my arms. And why I’m no longer blessed by your grace. Pride. You know it too, my darling. You’ve listened to him a little too much. I know all your relatives have. So I can’t blame you, my darling. You’re too sweet to not listen to everybody else. Especially Pride. But I know that I too, have listened to him a little too much, myself. In terms of us. And now I’m more aware, in terms of other matters in my life.
Pride has been a major reason why I haven’t doused myself in opportunities. Pride has caused me to close many doors, significant or not. But Pride has also stopped me from one thing I do well. Building my own doorways. Well, there are also other factors that affect my decisions. Factors like Pain, like Devotion, like Life, Like Love… You were expect me to announce Hate next, weren’t you. But we all know that Love and Hate are the exact same somebody. The two sides of the same coin. And Pride is their big brother. And I know that despite everybody else, Pride may be the biggest burden holding me back.
One night, Henata was talking to me about career paths. She wanted to explore my motivations and such. I was, of course, already aware of the many pursuits I wished to journey. As somebody always active in creating and fulfilling projects for their duties, Henata saw all the opportunities before me. It’s not like I didn’t see them either. She made many suggestions of what I could do to progress through my many desired avenues. It took me a while to explain to her that I had already set my path, and that I was waiting for certain pieces to fall in place. She thought that I was only wandering about aimlessly. A fair deduction.
And with my wandering, I always made sure not to steer too far off from the coast. I always ensured I had a clear way back to port. Because I was waiting. Waiting for a certain wind.
Last season, I was wandering about. The plague had created an opportunity for me to explore the outside worlds and see the many sights. But I wasn’t wandering aimlessly. I was actually exposing myself to the outside, gathering plenty of raw materials for my creativity. A labour that it seems only artists would understand. And with my wandering, I always made sure not to steer too far off from the coast. I always ensured I had a clear way back to port. Because I was waiting. Waiting for a certain wind. And now I can feel it in the air. I can smell it. That certain wind has almost come. The clouds far ahead have made that certain. And besides, I always knew when this wind would arrive.
That’s what Henata couldn’t see. Not that it mattered. For she was more in tune to other matters. Matters like finding resources, managing them, and then expansion. Our specialties were different. And she gave me insight to what she observed in my decisions. She felt my progress was too slow for her liking, especially in terms of finances. But she, of course, after getting to know me a little deeper, began to understand my flow. She did still hope I’d be more focused on creating material wealth. In a sense, I know I should have been.
But one thing she didn’t like was that I wouldn’t reach for certain opportunities. And she knew exactly why I wouldn’t, either. As Warren’s sister, she’d been trying very hard to ensure that Pride wouldn’t stagnate Warren’s growth. She knew it had. And without me even saying so, she saw it stick out like a sore thumb. She knew Pride was getting in my way too, for a lot of things. She said that Warren and I were exactly the same. Of course we were the same. We were Brothers in Arms. Blood, sweat, and tears. Literally. And one of the keys to our might during those brutal days of old? Oh, you know. Pride.
I knew Pride was always in my way. He still is, sadly. And I know I’ll have to dismiss much of his advice if I want to venture further. I’m grateful I got to know Henata more. Her experiences with Warren made it easier for her to offer me relevant advice. But she’s not the only one who see’s the hinderance of Pride upon my journey.
Or worse, he may actually acknowledge his weakness, and still allows that spite to poison his surroundings. A shame.
Ponyo introduced me to a certain character the other night. It’s a shame. He doesn’t understand the adversity that his weakness could create. Sadly, he doesn’t even understand his weakness, and the jeopardy it lays upon others. Or worse, he may actually acknowledge his weakness, and still allows that spite to poison his surroundings. A shame. Such vermin is what I specialize in hunting. But he doesn’t understand that idea. The idea that a cancer must be quickly eliminated before it spreads further.
Who could eliminate somebody who has only done the right thing to others. But then again, how does one respect life if they’ve never faced death?
But there is another idea that he doesn’t understand. I do not blame him for his ignorance. This world, here in the Star Country, permits it. That ignorance. You’ve all heard the cliché. Ignorance is bliss. You see, his life here in the Star Country has made him blind to the value of his life. Blind to Death. Has he faced those cards before? He believes outside forces will protect him. He believes the systems of civilization keep him safe. Most folk believe that. And that is why most folk unknowingly hurt each other. They’re blinded by the false protections of those systems. This soft character, he doesn’t understand that the law cannot protect him from those who do not believe in the law. He must learn that only he, himself, can protect him. And one of the best ways to do that is to live respectfully. Fists may flurry upon the innocent, but demise is a different story. Why would I slay somebody who only behaves respectfully? Who could eliminate somebody who has only done the right thing to others. But then again, how does one respect life if they’ve never faced death?
It’s a shame that I must see our relationship in this sort of light. Me and this character. Let’s call him Daneisha. I’m sure he’ll like that designation. Maybe. Or maybe he’ll think it too tacky. I’m sure he won’t mind the feminine notes to such a title. I’m sure he’ll let me know. But either way, he gave me advice on matters of Pride. Extremely helpful advice. On how Pride hinders my progress in my writing pursuits. And he also gave me helpful insight in the world of the ‘writing’ industry.
Clues were evident of his involvement in academia. There was no denying that. And I soon learned that he was a postgraduate of journalism. Educated. In journalism. And its industry. A glory and a burden. And a very clear indicator of his motives.
And secondly, my current environment never made me feel there was value in my writings. I spend my days with bankers and economists, builders and mechanics, health and science professionals. And neither of them were readers.
Ponyo told him about my writings, and how she tried to help me promote my writings to the worlds. The sweet girl. All I could explain to them both was that I wasn’t savvy with networking in the digital world. Ponyo and Daneisha would continually remind me that I should venture further into promoting myself in the digital world, especially if I was to make a career out of writing. Sadly, I knew why I never made the pursuit, and told them. Firstly, I wasn’t exactly someone in tune with the fashions of the digital world and social media. And secondly, my current environment never made me feel there was value in my writings. I spend my days with bankers and economists, builders and mechanics, health and science professionals. And neither of them were readers. And so, I’d never had anybody to enjoy my writings except for you, my darling. I know Ponyo enjoys my pieces whenever I give her something to read. But I can’t say I’ve had a true audience besides you, my darling. But now, I think I’ve found another reader.
Daneisha was enraptured by my words. Every spell I wrote had him craving more. He couldn’t help but let my voice dance about in his thoughts. And he enjoyed the warmth, as if I whispered every word in his ear. I only gave him a short piece to read, but he secretly continued to read more and more of my works. Ponyo and I weren’t aware he was still reading more until he could no longer physically withhold his reactions. My writings. He felt it. He knew he did. He let himself feel it. The honesty. The warmth. The emotion. He allowed it all to tingle about his skin. Sweet Daneisha. I cherish his appreciation. I truly do. It is why I write, is it not? But when I took my writings away from him, I began to notice another side to his façade.
But school could never teach you the brilliance of art. It could only ever be discovered in oneself. And this discovery was not an education. It was a spiritual journey.
As I said earlier, to be educated in a particular field is a glory and a burden. A blessing and a curse. Daneisha. He was well equipped to tread the industry of writing. He already knew all the avenues, all the faculties, all the hierarchies of the corporate systems, and all the laws of the writing industry. The brilliance of the art? I question if he’d ever achieved such, yet. It was not something that could be mastered in school. School could equip you with skills and techniques, with recommendations and efficiencies, with styles and histories. But school could never teach you the brilliance of art. It could only ever be discovered in oneself. And this discovery was not an education. It was a spiritual journey. That was the one part of ‘art’ that those pampered by education often forgot. The journey. And now with all the tools to create that success, it would be frustrating to find yourself still at the bottom of the food chain. All you aspiring artists out there who take the route of education, do not forget that you must still embark, and face the ordeals of your journey. And those who do lack the formal training for the industry, you too must learn the ways of that world if you are to survive. I can, at least, thank the Father above, that I have learned and experienced one thing that exists in every single industry out there. The ugly cousin. Greed.
Greed is somebody I’m no stranger to. I deal with that bastard all the time. Not so much personally. Sadly. He knows he doesn’t have the warmest of welcomes in my home. Look. I do accept him. He is a vital part of all of our lives. But I also know his ways, and how he loves to entrance the masses with his song.
I saw the spirit of Greed invoke himself within Daneisha. I do not think the issue between me and Daneisha was a matter of jealousy in the craft of words. No. I’ve no exposure to Daneisha’s writings. He may, in fact, be more brilliant that I am. But the issue that I did see, wreaked horribly in the air. I don’t think Daneisha was aware of his own stench. It seems he may have thought that he was too smart to expose his vile intentions. I feel that he thought me a fool, due to my lack of digital world prowess, and my lack of industry education. Silly Daneisha. I think he wasn’t aware that I grew up around plague spreaders, street vendors, self-made entrepreneurs, and the underground business. I think he wasn’t aware that I’m still very much involved with such. And there’s one thing we, of such corners of life, are exposed to everyday. Greed, himself.
Poor Daneisha. He wasn’t aware of how ugly he looked to me. He wasn’t aware that I could see him contemplating the possible flaws in my overall knowledge of the industry and its legislation. He wasn’t aware that his spirit heavily wreaked of his intentions to exploit my hard effort and lifeworks. Now that I had shown him my treasures hidden in the vault, I saw his eyes turn ‘green’. How amusing. Green. But with such treacherous eyes before me, I did the most polite of gestures. I offered him a direct path to the afterlife, so long as he wanted to exploit my art.
Ill intentions are some of the hardest fires to keep hidden within our eyes.
Sadly, this is where the ignorance I spoke of comes in. And Greed, the venomous bastard, did not help in this matter. When Greed began to surface himself more clearly within Daneisha, Daneisha never once looked toward me. Or rather, he never let our eyes make contact. An amateur approach. But who could blame a potential theif who had just noticed the bounty before him. Ill intentions are some of the hardest fires to keep hidden within our eyes. His ploy was too revolting to allow to continue. So, I commanded that he looked me in the eyes. And then I told him what was right. That if he exploited me and my works, then I would slit his throat.
His eyes told me that he knew that he had just been exposed. The lack of surprise. The scarcity of a reaction, almost as if he expected my threat. But his eyes also told me that he did not completely grasp the simplicity of my statement. His death. He didn’t understand that his exploitations and earnings would never return his life once I took it from him. Damned Greed! How could you fool such a sweet, soft elf into ignoring the one most valuable asset in life. His time in this reality. He could be soo much more to me than just another name upon that tablet. But that selfish desire that Greed loves to sing about, and that ignorant safety of the first-world realms, they were not helping this child.
Of course Pride was involved. Pride is an essential part of value. Pride is what turns trash into treasure.
I saw a goodness in him. I saw someone that could help me grow fruitfully. And I saw someone who I could bless and honour in the way that he should have been. He shouldn’t be another selfish rodent. He should be someone we can all be proud of, who will get his rightful share of the glory. If he so chooses to help me. He has the opportunity to help me, or to use me. The two sides of the same coin. (There’s a lot of coins happening today, isn’t there.) I just wonder if he wishes to become a symbol of good, or a soon forgotten dirt-stain. He could be good. He has the knowledge and desire to aid my growth. He truly does. I know he’d love to see the fruits that he could help cultivate. I am willing to let him shine in that righteous glory. He knew Pride was one of the reasons I hadn’t made progressive changes. He likely feels that Pride was the only basis of my threats. Of course Pride was involved. Pride is an essential part of value. Pride is what turns trash into treasure. I wonder if he has any pride in himself. He could create some true value in himself. Let us all hope that he, and the many few soon to cross my path, do the right thing. If not, then maybe my art will just have to lay hidden, forever.
I do know one thing now. With these winds of change I’ve been meaning to sail, I know Pride can still get in the way. I need to rely on him less. But I must keep him around for when he is needed. Just like Greed, as well. I definitely need to keep him along for the journey, so that when I do encounter others, I’ll recognize his song right away. Because as I aspire for growth, the good will come to help all to grow, and the bad kill reap everybody dry. And me, I may have to start acquainting others with a very old friend of mine. Let’s hope not too often. This old friend has made things very diffcult for me.
These defence mechanisms of mine can be quite nasty.
I hope Ponyo is okay. When I made Daneisha my offer, she cried. The gentle thing. Likely because she knows. She remembers. My word is my bond. But also, because she couldn’t understand why I would make such a black promise to somebody who just praised my works. I’m apologetic about that. I truly am. These defence mechanisms of mine can be quite nasty.
One thing is for sure. I hate when I make her upset. My sweet dear. And I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Does she hate me for that? I hope not. Especially now that I’ve finally returned. Now is my chance to be in her life again. I know I need to spend more time with her. She knows it too. She is scared of the thought of that. But she knows it. And sadly, of course. Life isn’t that simple. Her duties, her other responsibilities. My duties, my other responsibilities. The fact that I’m capital bound. These things do get in the way. Some what. Will we let them?
But I have a feeling I’ll have more of her soon. I noticed something. And I think I’m a little scared about it. But at the same time, what I saw in her was not unfamiliar at all. If anything, it was not a problem. Well, not for me it’s not. Because after all, it’s just her. And I’ll always keep her safe. I just hope she’s okay. I hope she doesn’t trouble herself. A man will be very busy in a moon’s time. Let’s hope for the best.
I’ve written too much for the moment. I’ve too much say. Another time will be better. Let’s hope that I can temper this pride appropriately. Let’s hope I can utilize this greed to my advantage. And let’s hope that these new characters shine brightly. So that my words finally reach their acclaim.
Love from yours truly,
-Daniel Roy
Diaries of the Moonlight Hours 