Dom is the author of the soon to be released hyperfantasy novel The Boy Who Walked Too Far. He is currently writing his next novel, Smoker on the Porch while constantly dragging himself through the molasses of life. He loves pizza.
I was caught with my pants down. Not literally, you understand. Though it has been known. But that's another tale. Battling mental health is a chore within itself, but keeping the demons at bay while in self isolation is another battle altogether. Just when you thought you were doing okay, some pandemic decides to interfere with your life. Now, this is the crux, a paradigm in itself. As much as the thing has been ghastly and cost a great many lives, torn heartstrings and shaken families to the core, some of us, a select minority have enjoyed the time to ourselves.
I think we have subconsciously been waiting on this for years. Think on it. With the introduction of social media and smart phones we have become our own creatures of habit. We are transcending homo sapien. The introduction of the novel coronavirus, Covid -19 has just given us the push we needed to finally exile ourselves to the delicacies of the limitless dimensions of the internet and the technologies that surround it.
I've levelled out. After weeks of clinging on for dear life - literally - I have regained some semblance of balance. Careful though. One misstep and you will fall, Dom A pebble in the void, the only direction, down.
It felt like I needed to spew a void of darkness. It was clung, deep to my ribs, a sentient mucus that would not expel. Poisoning my heart as the panacea started to settle within my fractured brain, a tourniquet to stop the thoughts of harm spilling into the street.
A bass line. Vocals that make the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. The guitar solo that will stick with you to the grave, and beyond. Music can reach the range of emotions we didn't think we had. Unravel thoughts and faces from the dusty tomes of memory. Experiences stuck in the amber of the mind, ready to be revisited by the rolling drums of a familiar song.
Life can be a bind, don't you think? Round and round we go with our little lives. One massive pulsating algorithm that never lets us stray from the path. Ephemeral and fleeting we traverse the years with only one way of getting off the merry go round. Death.