This country...

...is starting to really confuse me. Bit despondent today, reading all the newest headlines and scandals, particularly the David Nutt rubbish, man's only doing his job but because his findings don't fit with the government's ideals and policies he's fired and his results are shoved under the carpet. If the government could effectively tax cannabis, they would legalise it, simple. It has to make you wonder at how much we don't know... but meh you could spend years arguing and debating about this, I'm not here to proselytise, I'm here to write, ONWARD!

Check this out, another one of my "12 Demons" short story series, this is called 5, or 'We are the Shadows', just a little thing again, in the same vein as 'They' or 'This Couch', just ramblings :)

There are tall tales and fables, long yarns and hearsay. There is folklore, legend, and makebelieve. Some tell wives’ tales and fairy stories, others call it myth or superstition. There are white lies, fabrications, fibs and falsehoods. There are long stories and short snippets. There are shadows and there is light. There is you, and there is us.

For all your wheels, your microwave ovens and atom bombs, you still don’t have a fucking clue do you? Pardon my tongue, but it’s the inconsistencies you can’t stand, all the weird and wonderful things that happen in life. Hell, none of you can even describe a calorie, let alone pick apart the hidden workings of the world. And which one would you care more about? We thought so.

Between the lines of those fairy tales and myths lie a little bit of truth, the residue of legend sticking to the underside of reality like gum on your shoe. Your ancestors used to fear us, gathering around the campfires at night for warmth and safety, telling stories of the dark ones at the forest edge, burning eyes and dripping fangs waiting for a foolish soul to wander too close. They built shrines and cairns, sacrificed animals and daughters to keep us at bay, to keep us from painting the doors with their blood. We agreed, and the gods stayed quiet.

But somewhere along the way you forgot. You got lost in the intricacies of machinery, steam and clockwork. Money became your deity and the computer became your shrine. The shadows were burned away from the forest edge by logic and rationality and organised religion and now you stand naked in the spotlight, confident and supreme.

Well we’re not finished. A little bit of darkness still exists at the corners of your lives doesn’t it, under the bridges and hiding in the cupboards?

Ever wonder why you’re all afraid of the dark?

Why the hairs stand up on the back of your neck when it’s not even cold out?

Who moved the keys that you swore were just there?

Why that shadow in the corner of your eye is nothing. Nothing but some animal rummaging in a dustbin.

Figures.

Give it a century or two and everything you used to know will be lying in another landfill, rotting and useless. We watch you chasing your universe, futilely trying to find the answers. You can slam all the particles you want together, it’ll never work, but you’ll always try.

There are tall tales and fables, long yarns and hearsay. There is folklore, myth, and legend, wives’ tales, superstition, make believe and fairy stories, white lies, fabrications, fibs and falsehoods. There are long stories and short ones. There are shadows and there is light. There is you and there is us. Curiosity killed the cat.

Peace

Ben x

(C) Copyright Ben Galley 2009