ParaNoirmal?

So here we are again. Just me an' the world. Just me against the world.

Well, you know the world. You know how it can be- even if you try not to think about it much.

Me? Me, I'm just a guy, y'know? Any old guy you see on the street- that's me. I've saved people, but I'm not the good guy. I've killed people, but I'm not really the bad guy, either.
Just a guy. But when the world breaks down, when reality itself gets kicked in the teeth, I always seem to get left holding the bag. But that's alright. I don't mind- I've got a killer set of tools.

Just me against a broke world; like the Spartans at Thermopilae, like those cats at the Alamo. Standin' because there's nothing else they could do. Taking a stand and damn the consequences. Not because it's good, not because it's right. Because it's the only option we can see. Because some things are black and white. I know that for sure- I'm the place where they meet up.

Thirty six years ago, I was christened Francis Cole Rook. Some folks know me as Frank, some as Rook. Those who know me well sometimes call me Purgatory.. but rarely to my face. Like I said- I'm the place where dark and light bump into one another like icebergs and unsinkable ships. I've been almost killed so many times, Death now has near-me experiences. I've got more scar than skin these days and more mileage than any three Cadillacs. You might say it's part of the job.
What the hell is all that supposed to mean? Hell, I dunno. Look.. it's like this: the priests and the imams and them have got it wrong. Sort of. See, 'good' and 'evil' are Man things. They don't exist outside humanity- sort of like boredom, I guess. What does exist is more like.. like, Order and Chaos, maybe.
Chaos isn't 'evil' per se, but there are.. entities, intelligences within the whole, ones that want to directly interact with mankind for whatever reason, and let me tell ya- some of those guys are sick. Well, by human standards, anyway. Likewise, some of Order is no more good than Facsim on a cosmic scale.
It's the tension of the relationship between these two forces that makes up the fabric of reality. Sometimes one side is a bit more dominant.. or prevalent, maybe, but it's part of the normal ebb and flow. But when one side.. overcomes the other in a concentrated area, it's my job to help balance things. It's the.. localized activity, the spikes and jaggy bits in the sine wave that concern me. There's other folks like me, of course- hell, there may be folks on other worlds that are like me, I don't know.

It's not really accurate to say that it's my job. It generally don't pay a damned cent.

If I'm not careful, this could become habit...

Posting twice in a 24 hour period. Don't think I've ever bothered to do that before.

Anyway- here it is, gone midnight, and I'm hitting my stride. I just wish I had somewhere for that stride to take me.

I've been suffering from tics pretty badly today. Part of it's just shivering- I've probably mentioned it before, but my.. 'shiver reflex' has been rewired into a Tourette's-like spasming tic of the head, neck and shoulder.

I was feeling.. uneasy earlier. Watched- even haunted, perhaps. The cat's sleeping peacefully. Since animals and children are thought to be much more sensitive to weird shit, I'll take his word for it. Just me and my tortured imagination. Such is my life.

Old dreams torment my waking mind, and painful memories prey on my sleep. The Dream is back in the forefront of my thoughts. I can see Her eyes if I but close my own, and it hurts.

Sheesh- get a load of me: all maudlin and morose when most of my brain is actually going 'wingwingwingwingnyarnyarnyar WOOP!' Not to be confused with 'IckyIckyIcky Pa'Tang Zwooop BOINGGG!'

I'm gonna have to commit the 'Gundog' story premise to paper -er, type anyway- one of these days. I don't feel like going into it at the moment, but it takes the idea of Military Contractors and Citizen Soldiers to a somewhat different place.

VROOOOOM!

Oh, man, am I ever in a bad way.
I've been a bit ill this week, nothing major, but I'm glad campus was closed the first half of the week. I've barely been able to stay awake during the day, and barely able to sleep at night.
When I got up at about eleven today, everything clicked. And then dropped into gear. I'm in a manic cycle that took a week to get a run up. Fuck, man.

I'm so amped, the only thing I can think to do is go to bed. I have to edit everyother word, because my brain and my fingers, while moving at about the same speed, are moving perpendicular to each other. I'm probably cursing alot, too, but my fingers aren't paying attention.

I've been in my office moshing to Nirvana, Wycleff Jean and Clint Mansell most of the day because I can't figure out what to do first.
Um. Where was I? Fuck. Anyway, my nightcap @ about 11 last night was my usual battery of meds + x2 Tylenol PM + x2 shots Cuervo Black Medallion. I finally got to sleep at about 4 in the morning. Yeah- it's like that.

I feel like... like the birth of Rock and Roll, man- I want to kick down the walls and ascend to the heavens on stairs of fire. I want to pull out all the stops, throw all the switches and plug myself into the electrical outlet of the cosmos just to see what happens next.

Maybe I oughta start drinking... lubricate the machine before it seizes. At least I don't have the shakes yet.