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  • In my "Mean Years" I had a motto.

    "Destroy Everything, Leave No One Alive."

    I would say it aloud, to my cadre. They would nod and we would move forward as one...a unified shadow - spreading out to cover a scene with our dark.

    It was a sparkling beautiful thing of youth. We looked like The Lost Boys. Overcoats, long hair, muscular and invincible. We could drink, we could smoke, we could ingest, inject, imbibe, fuck...you name it.

    And little could touch us.

    I felt like a Prince...a stone Prince. Hard but vulnerable. I bled often, but I would replace my loss with the blood of others. I would cry in the arms of my closest, but never let the world see my tears...the would only see my fire. And I made damn sure I burned brightly for that world.

    As I got older, that fire became a blaze of tempering. I found my self in those flames. They became a mirror in which I found my soul. I became a student of Ancient History, of things long forgotten...and I found a place that made my soul sing.

    Nineveh. Ancient...strong...mysterious...magical...conquering.

    It was an ancient empire that followed my motto. They conquered with such cruelty that no one was left alive. Eventually, the conquered became the conquerors and destroyed their oppressors...completely - utterly.

    Nineveh is naught but a shadow to the wind.

    And so it became with me.

    My fire burned me deep. Karma came calling and took me for a journey that left me open and bleeding so hard that the flames drown in the blood.

    I fell to my knees and wished I was goddamned dead. I drown in darkness…my eyes blind. But I did not die – I have learned that I am just too hard to kill. Eventually I could hear, I could see, I could regain my feet. And when I could walk I moved my feet to the one place I could understand.

    The desert.

    There, I listened to the wind and I asked for its council. It spoke to me and told me the truth of loss and learning. It told me of wisdom and of losing Self.

    I stood in the desert questioning my loss in the way a beggar questions the reality of his empty pockets.

    Then a gift came to me. I looked to the sky and saw a single shooting star.

    Then another.

    Then it seemed that the entire heavens wept a silver shower of broken stars. They fell in samite shimmers that became blurred by the tears in my own eyes.

    I suddenly understood. I understood everything my beloved desert was telling me. I knew why I was suffering so much.

    With a cry I fell to my knees and my shadow broke.

    The ground shimmered with light from the weeping night sky.

    And I became a Soul again.
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