In my hand was the deed. This ancient house, mine. But, not out of benevolence was this estate given, but out of simple, cold, legal provenance. A binding ancient code written into law that even my father could not override, though he tried. To my one sister, I increased the yearly stipend, out of a distant hope for reparations between us. To the staff of the house, I gave small increases, and vowed to keep all the tenants of the land employed, and housed at their current rates. To many times have I seen, or heard, of changes in the gentry resulting in hard times for the rest. I did my best to maintain civility during the transition, and I feel that I did, though the lawyer seemed to think I was too generous.

So there I was, in this vast empty house. A wealthy gentleman, but alone, in every respect. The rain that I had predicted the day before, had arrived, and was saturating the landscape once again. As I sat in the library, I read over the deed once again. Contained in the papers was also a map of the estate and it's surrounding lands. On this map I recognized many of my childhood haunts, though I'd never seen this map before yesterday. Having studied natural science at Aberdeen college until four years ago whereupon I took a position in London, equipped me with the mental tools I needed to decipher these symbols, albeit ancient.

There was the ring of stones I had visited only yesterday during a break in the rain; there the cave to the north of the house, just adjacent to the forest. To the east, there was the farmland and the tenants thereon who made up the largest population of people who owed fealty to the manor in which I had now taken up residence, and indeed, ownership. There was also, a small spot, to the northwest of the house, in the map, that I did not recognize. An arrow pointing inward from the coastline to the cliff-side emanating from the shape of a key was the marking, but I did not know the place. I vowed to visit this spot as soon as this infernal Scottish winter rain stopped.

I feared that I had a long wait, indeed.

Labels: Cionaodh

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it's hard to know where to begin again. do i explain my absence? do i explain my return? do i write some sort of abstract and obtuse piece explaining, mostly just to me and those nearest, the contents of the organ that lies between my ears?

what can I say about the darkness that people don't already know? do you know that it's real? that it's an illness? that it's not just 'wrong thinking' or 'craziness?' it's real, it's genetic, it's debilitating, but most of all, it's treatable.

should I confess here on these pages...bleeding my innermost failure to be an excellent father and husband? no. you don't want to hear all that. why? because its just like so many others. it isn't unique, or even out of the ordinary. perfection is a misnomer and an unattainable goal for anyone to strive for. there has only ever been one perfect human in all of history. we are flawed.

the darkness took me down, spiraled out of control. it shaded my eyes with a filter of paranoia and inner loathing and pain. the synapses in my head, misfired. the calming secretions of mind, halted. until the introduced chemical brought things into balance again, artificially, and lifted the curtain of darkness, slowly, from my eyes, and the brightness entered once again.

too much? yes. too much. there will be no more of this. that's enough, I think. i will write something else next. i just wanted you all to know...if you were wondering at all...those of you that i know care...that i'm back..and i'm ok.

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toadman is here

2...1...

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toadman was is here

5...4...3...

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and now....

toadman was is here

6

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then....

toadman was here

7

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Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine :
et lux perpetua luceat eis.
In memoria æterna erit justus,
ab auditione mala non timebit.

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