Lord Dark Celt Bard Emeritus's blog: "Runes writ in Red"

That's the secret, true believers

It's all in the empty spaces.

All the empty faces,

That we will never truly know.

It's the things unsaid

That kill you an inch by bloody inch at a time.

But those spaces, places, faces?

They are also oasises.

Water, in this desert.

That's why this is a dance as much as a walk;

You have to find the truth.

Or invent a lie that allows sleep.

There's true horror, down here.

But also, salvation.

So don't be afraid of the Big Empty, my friends.

But don't allow it free reign, either.

Because sometimes, words are salvation too.

And sometimes you don't always have as much time a ya think, to say goodbye, hello, what have ye.

Just remember this;

Not all the spaces are truly empty.

But neither are the places full, either.

So never hold thine tongue, if ye must speak.

But make each word, each breath MEAN something.

Tune in next week, Faithful Reader,

I may even teach you how to breathe.

Or maybe not.

Thus it is as it is.