“Do your time, before it does you.”

Trent Dalton, Boy Swallows Universe.

Once upon a time, there was a seed, a bad seed. How do I know it was a bad one? It blocked the sunlight from the good seeds which were trying to grow. Their life was now all about surviving in the dark, and the bad seed flourished from the decayed remains. What will become from this bad seed?

I haven´t been writing for a while because I was living at the end of my current story and starting a new one. During this transition, I´ve read a book explaining the difference between fact and a story. It sounds simple, but the difference is still unclear to most of us. For example, it’s a fact that there´s a war, but the reasons why there is a war are not facts; those are stories, and what kind of a story it is depends on who the storyteller is. Usually, the storyteller changes the facts to suit the storyline and drama style. If the events happened a long time ago, our brains are programmed to remember them in a way that benefits our survival. The fool´s gold is turning into golden memories; fading affect bias

One of my golden memories was when I met my life before—a samurai.

Nobody move, there’s blood on the floor
And I can’t find my heart
Where did it go? Did I leave it in the cold?
So please give it back, ’cause it’s not yours to take
It must’ve fell when I lost my mind
Deep in the cut, drowning in a pain
Somebody help, ’cause I can’t find my way
Nobody move, nobody move

Somebody tell me how I’m supposed to feel
When I’m sitting here knowing this ain’t real
Why in the world would I give my heart to you?
Just to watch you throw it in the trash
I’ve been traveling so long, I don’t think I can hold on
Where were you when I needed you the most?
Now I’m sitting here with a black hole in my chest
A heartless, broken mess

Thundercat

I got a fan email few weeks ago. I´ve known about this fan since September because the stats from the blog are sending locations, and in this country, I have a fan club.

This email was all about the life before. It was a nice reminder that there was no crime or drama in that period of life, and it was established free-willingly. The last part was spot on, a fact. It was established free-willingly. That is also why I´m still writing from time to time about my life before. I needed to understand why I stayed and let the life before treat me like it did. I haven’t let it go because I had to take accountability for my actions. I needed to do my time before it did me.

Another part of the fan email was storytelling time. Was there a crime or drama? It just depends on who the teller is. Writing my stories about life before gives me pain, and I’m not even shitting golden eggs. Calling this period of life a golden memory is like David Bowie‘s song in Stephen King’s horror movie Golden Years.  Macabre.

This fan email confirmed that another bad seed is growing somewhere, and it’s shadowing nothingness.

“Run for the shadows, run for the shadows
Run for the shadows in these golden years
I’ll stick with you, baby, for a thousand years
Nothing’s gonna touch you in these golden years.”

David Bowie

They say physical violence makes you kill someone, but mental violence makes you kill yourself. My life before killed me, but in the decayed remains there was growing a bad seed into a pine tree. A bitter sweet mistake that I love from the bottom of my heart. Like in jazz music, they call a mistake a gift, and the life before gave me one. Without it, I would not have been growing like this.

I have met lots of characters in my life before. A person in a funky bar in Japan, an Aikido grandmaster, a Samurai, a blind person, an email guy who left me with an email and a fan from the fan club. I want these characters to know that I´m not erasing my story. The bad seed grows in you, but what it will become depends on you, not me.

Keep inspiring someone else’s stories, or do your time, before it does you.