Thought Fifty Six

How it began.

I think a lot about writing. My book, the universe in which it exists. The people, the creatures, and at times the gods themselves.

I think about creating a universe ever expanding outward. A place in which the “White Desert” exists. So I smoke my cigars, drink my Fiji water sitting in my garage in a rocking chair thinking. Although to be honest, tonight I am sitting on my back deck under a portico with both a bottle of Fiji water and a bottle of Alo Exposed. In the background, I have music on, with candles burning. The iron whale listens to my thoughts and reminds me of the gods both close and far.

BW-04I woke up earlier this week and realized that I had turned fifty-five. Against all the odds, here I stand (or sit), having survived a marriage to a monster. When I awoke that day, I was glad to be alive. To have survived and these days thrived even.

Still, I feel the internal pressure in me to write. And I do want to write. To construct, to expose the dinosaur bones as Steven King puts it. I read Steven King’s book “On Writing” a couple of months ago. His book convinced me to stop watching TV. So I have. Two and a half months, no TV. The amazing thing about it is all of the free time, reading time, thinking time that I suddenly have. I also tend to go to sleep earlier and feel better.


It occurred to me today that perhaps this is how the universe began (as in all expanding time-space). Someone’s creativity put in motion. The creation of the gods, people, worlds, etc. Perhaps that is what launched it all.

So in the creation of my ever expanding universe, I must continue to write the stories that bring it to life. For this is the place in which I wish to exist.

This the “White Desert”.

To feel the heat scorch my brow as I sit in the tank cupola. To fight, live and die, then begin anew. Memories intact, remembering all that came before. This is what I desire.

And in the back of my mind, to not forget this time. This act of creation. To find my Pac out among these stars far and away. The ones I love, now and then. To face our fear and pain. To die a good death and remember it being so.

To not forget that we are the gods themselves, but enjoy those that we love, their friendship and comradery. To hunt down the monsters to hurt and damage others. To send them to a place where they can longer have any effect on us. Or to simply see what they are, parts of the grand play that allows us to grow. To smooth off the rough edges of our souls. To enable us to forgive, both ourselves and them.

And to recognize the wolf that we are.

This is my insight today. Perhaps in how our universe began. Someone else creating this universe in time and space. Just as I am creating my own.

Gods creating gods.



Author: Robertus Invictus Maximus

Walking alone, in this the white desert.

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