The Night Knights…

I want to share a secret with you.  You have to promise not to spread it around, because it’s a pretty big deal.

I have a super power.

Yup!  I’ve kept it secret a long time, but I think it’s finally time I share it with all of you.  You’ve been here for more than a year, you’ve earned it.

My super power is this: I can’t quit.  Not ‘I don’t quit’ or ‘I never quit’.  Because I do both of those things, frequently.  Almost daily, in fact.  Yet, here I am.  Once more, back in this worn out saddle.  The same place I shall be when Death finally comes for her own.

Had a terrible release that no one read?  Right back in my saddle.  Horrible numbers on every metric I have?  Butt on leather, let’s do this together.  Life kicks me in the balls so often I need surgery to fix it?  Climbing back up, cast and all.

Nothing, nothing, short of permanent mental incapacitation or death will keep me from my course.  Not me, not my therapist.  Not my family, not my son, not my wife, not my mother laying on her deathbed.  Not.  Thing.  One.

I do not understand how to stay away.  I do not understand what it means to do things which are healthy for me.  Quitting my attempts to be a writer and a streamer would be the most productive thing I could.  Living a quite, unobtrusive life as some variety of accountant or as an actuary would be the highest goal I can realistically achieve at this stage in my life.

AND YET.  And yet.  I’m here, you’re here, we’re here.  I can’t even imagine a life where this wasn’t the reality.  As such, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, this saddle will be where I live and die, and it will take me wherever it wills.

So now you know.

Let’s ride.

Without further sharing of dangerous knowledge…

The Night Knights…

Jed’s eyes cracked open, breaking apart the gluey crust which had tried so hard to keep the world at bay.

Shit, it’s all still here.

She closed her eyes once more, willing them to stay shut this time, wanting nothing more than to sink back into the blissful oblivion of sleep and unremembered dreams.  Her phone had other ideas, and continued playing the song of onerous responsibility and the slow death of the daily grind.

“Slaved into brittle and worked for days, only thing that paves your stay…”1

Jed threw her pillow across the room, knocking the traitorous electronics from her dresser, but doing nothing to cease the dirge of waking.  “Fine, you win you bastard.  Don’t think I’ll forgive you for it.”  The smarmy phone kept on with the DJ impersonation, and Jed rolled out of bed into the world at large.

A hectic yet oddly practiced fifteen minutes later, she had locked the door on her single room flat and made her way into the bustling 7 am Astoria crowds which dominated 24th.  Her hood was pulled up, only a few of the dark red spikes with blue frosted tips poking out front, the thin line of her earbuds making their way down her chin into her hoodie.  She dodged the crowd with the ease of long practice as she tried to pump herself up for another day at the office.

“You want to see me fail?  You won’t get your chance!  You want to see me fail?!  YOU’LL NEVER GET YOUR CHANCE.”2

She managed to get through the cooks entrance.  Billy still owed her for the time she had helped him through a rough patch with Diane, and he was waiting for her as usual when she arrived.

“Mornin J, sleep well?”

“The waking up is always the worst part.”

“Amen to that.  Zack hasn’t gotten here yet, so you should be able to get to ten without running into him.  I’d take the stairs though, just in case.”

She exchanged a high-five with Billy as she made her way towards the stairs between the cafeteria and the kitchen.  She wasn’t technically part of the kitchen staff, but they all knew her and knew what happened.  Everyone simply forgot that she wasn’t allowed back there.  It was the darnedest thing.

She huffed her way up the stairs, glad for the exercise and the guarantee that she wouldn’t get stuck in a confined space with Zack.  She didn’t feel like going to prison today, or any day really.  She’d heard how tough it was to get meds on schedule in the clink, and she had no intention of losing any of her hard earned progress.

She finally gained the tenth floor, sweating and gasping as music continued to drown out any encroaching anxiety.  She’d have to cut the umbilical shortly however.  Her boss admired her, but admiration could only do so much.  Administration breathed down all necks equally, he was fond of saying.

Equally.  She knew he meant well, but nothing about her life was equal or fair any longer.  She doubted it ever would be again.  She was terrified that her refusal to quit this hellhole was because deep down she knew her work friends were the only thing keeping her alive.  She buried those thoughts as she did each time they surfaced, and opened the door to her personal oasis.

To be continued…

Metalfully,
Justin

1) Lyrics from “Workhorse” by Mastodon
2) Lyrics from “Proven” by Hatebreed