The Jaded "Blog"

Travel Traders

A traveling trader tells the story of how his wife joined him on a journey.

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Crackling embers and creaking crickets fill the silent night. Branches sticking from the dirt holding up wolf meat to be licked by the flames. Martha’s been quiet for hours. She only leaves her tent to turn the meat and returns.

I keep rubbing a smooth stone along the edges of our swords. It seem to lecture her every time we barely survive a battle. “Attack and dodge!” I tell her repeatedly. She assures me she’s doing what she can, but I fear being witness to her death. We barely escaped today’s encounter with our lives.

We couldn’t retrieve the treasure the golem guarded or its heart. We were too exhausted to continue. Running for our lives was what we had left. An entire day wasted.

At the beginning it was just me taking these month long journeys to track and retrieve expensive treasures from across the land. Martha didn’t my elongate absences. She’d complain and request coming along to help. She’d say, together we could watch each others backs and go where I wouldn’t dare alone. Eventually, I had no choice but to agree. We trained for…

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Shifting Monster

I don't pretend to be the good guy.

I'm just not hiding my dark side.

I played nice but it ain't fine.

All my plays line under grey skies.

Let the rain fall over flames dying.

Used to chase lies but I stop trying.

And the clot from the smoke in my lungs made me choke.

But the flood cleansed the river and the air delivered hope.

Beware,  with mind clear and held rope I hang regrets here.

Under the waterfall crashing over rising steam and asphalt superheated from fading fire from dissolving demons as a monster I became to defeat them.

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Immortalized

Thinking about mortality and the love of creating.

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Often conflicted and quite difficult to please, a complicated pursuit to remain busy and create overtakes. It’s aimless, but fueled by the imagination of a mind never silent. Thoughts without sleep. A perpetual anxiety holds on the brink of psychological collapse. Everlasting depression lingers in the background with awareness of mortality and the shortness of time. All the things wanted but only few will unfold before the red curtain drops, the lights shut off and the stage plunges to darkness. Countless tail-chases to the priceless and of meaning. Naming it purpose. Hoping it doesn’t come across as…

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