Personal Journal, All I see is the meat we are

      I sit and stare at the piece I’m working on. I’m at a standstill and am mesmerized by the sense of meat. All I see when I look at it are discarded bones, gristle and abandoned pieces of meat. As I stare my mind goes inevitably to the memory of the smells which go along with this. Because it is not meat I see but dismemberment.

       My nostrils fill for a few seconds with the memory of this and I feel nauseated. My eyes close and the memory will not leave my mind. Please save me from this memory. Please I don’t want to remember this, not this. It is the darkest part of the abyss from my past.

      I remind myself. I survived. I lived. I am still here.

       None of these memories are happening in this moment. My lungs fill with the deepest of breaths and I let it go as I exhale. My eyes open and I see the drawing in front of me. I still see meat yet this is all I now notice. My hands move across the screen with the stylus gripped in my fingers as I continue adding in the color. I will follow this piece to see where it will lead me.

      As I listen to the song set to repeat I find it has become an endless loop inside my ears. I discover my zone of creativity and I answer it’s call as I once again fall into the abyss. One sometimes filled with horror and at others is full of joy.

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