I saw the food for thought prompt “why blogging” and thought well folks what the fuck! Even though I have been silent here I have still been writing. Writing was a part of life long before the blog, before the word blog was invented, trees were sacrificed in great numbers for words no one would or should ever read. Writing continued in an unrelenting cadence even while in self imposed exile in Journals, diaries, divisive political speeches for right wing nut jobs in public office (kidding) and other half baked insane diatribes. The truth is this space keeps calling to me.
If you knew me, really really knew me there is no difference between the pseudonym and the man I am.
The Show (or Sin) Must Go On
Perhaps Maiden said it best with their live album title in the mid 80’s. It’s been a year and while I have lived a few moments here and there (over tea, on a London Street corner, contemplating the mosh pit at Slayer) until recently not much has changed in terms of having a life. In fact with one exception I have become more isolated both personally and professionally in every sense of the word. For a variety of reasons I have decided to recreate this space as an outlet, as a place to explore thoughts, and to share.
As for the past, it is what it is. The future though is whatever I make it. Something that I no longer plan to do on anyone else’s terms. Long gone is the man tucked into the corner of posh places with an array of people who are all hanging on and want something. Gone for now and maybe forever the words of the past. Instead I am here, alive after death both the obvious ones. Friends, lovers, relationships, what have you. Folks it has been a death filled year on many fronts and one of them is the person I was who patiently waited for everyone else.
What follows will be different from before. More visual in nature. You determine what the story is. Long before disappearing the truth of my world had ceased to be written here. I lost my muse, my voice. and thought that the words were destroying the things and people i cared most about. It changed what I wrote, how it was written.
No longer though will others lenses influence what is said, written, or shown.
Maybe you could say I was “born again”. After all who says the religious types are the only one who can use that term?
Yes through the divine miracle of sex and coffee and a wanton woman. I have seen the error of my ways and been reborn an unrepentant hedonist in his tailored suits, crisp shirts, and lace up shoes.
Sing it with me children AaaaaaHHHHH fucking her in the ass on a Sunday morning men.
So look for me in a hot dark room
See me in your wildest fantasies and worst nightmares
And with that it’s time to live a little
I may not be the devil but have no doubt I am evil, I am wicked and I am as I once was and always will be…I am Malflic.
See you in Hell ( and hugs)