I’ve had a very, very go of it lately.
This is one of my little venting sessions.

The Muse & Her Demons

I’m not used to being alone.

I have my troupe mates, my co-workers, my friends.
I fill my life with events and activities so that I am rarely ever alone with my thoughts.

I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts.

When I’m alone, my mind starts wandering.
It’s generally pleasant, at first, as one might expect. Thoughts of the things I enjoy most – dancing, traveling, spending time with friends.
But then…

I begin to wander into dark places.
Places from which I have a hard time coming back.

The woods, hallways, and oceans of black that sit in my mind are terrifying.
Monsters and demons and hell-spawn claw at me until I am nothing more than a bloody pool of snack-size pieces of flesh smeared upon the rug.
My eyes burn from tears than won’t fall.

Because they aren’t real.
None of it is.
Or maybe I’m…

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