Time Away

Minus the fact that the world is comprised of stupid bastards, fucking idiots, and ignorant fools, everything has just been rainbows and daffodils.

I haven't posted because I've been up to my elbows in clay. I don't like the stuff. Give me my wood. Give me marble. Let me make something out of a hard rigid medium, let me pull out a shape from it, don't force me to bend the medium to my will. Sure, it's useful when you have an idea or a commission and cannot find that block of stone or piece of wood which would you give that vision to you, but other than that, I wish to renounce the world of clay. And it's filthy. And it never seems to get out from under my nails.

Aside from this need to create or otherwise occupy my hands, I've had a need to get into a really good fight. I go daimon hunting frequently. I've been seeking out more and more. No matter how many I come across, they never seem to outnumber me. And none of them have any skill in terms of fighting. It's like they turn to dust when they see me. Gasp, an ex-DH! Let's all dust ourselves because we know it's inevitable! Where the hell did the fight go? I want skin meeting skin, breaking bones, blood, adrenaline; I want that great release that comes from giving yourself to the fight. And I want to stand up, beaten and bloody myself, and be able to laugh and go back for more. I have that strength, and by gods, I want to use it.

Astrid thinks I'm some quiet, peace-loving guy beneath the rough exterior and hard attitude. I love her, and maybe she thinks I'm gentle because I am with her, but that's not who I am. It's never been. The only times I ever refused to fight was when I was too weak, not because I was too gentle.

For my sanity, pray a good fight comes along. I've got the itch and I need it scratched.