"Are you a consort to the Muse, a flame betwixt the demons? Burn brightly! Your heat and light are eternal!
It feels as though you are trapped, although truly, the trap is yours and the demons come calling. Your light is eternal, theirs, temporary and fueled by theft."
Demons will surround you in your life. Whether they be your own or whether they belong to others, they will be there separately and simultaneously. In some sense, you will be claustrophobic from it all and at some point, this will free you from your shackles that contain the truest version of who you are. Fight or flight, no longer an option.
Some of them will play the victim while they consume you, your beauty, your energy, and your spark. It's the only way they can sustain themselves. To be afraid of the vitality and force of another can make one wish they were or had that which they fear. That, or they want to destroy it. More than not, they wish it for themselves.
They do not have a way to create within so they take from anyone they can. They take from willing and unknowing gifters, repackaging those stolen gems for themselves, reselling to the apathetic and desperate souls they feed off. They cry foul when caught in their web of sickness, rinse and repeat by taking some more, from a new and fresh host. 'They'll never suspect a thing.'
Something to understand is that we, who create, will always do so. There will never be a time where our wells run dry. We, who have mated with the Muse from the beginning to the very end, should an end exist. It is we, who carry the torches to pass to the next. And the vampires feed, as they do, and we restore our own, as is our divine & soul's purpose.
The vampires burn out, never standing in the light of the Sun and always hiding in a darkness that reveals nothing, with no depth, like a puddle. No balance, no unity of self or knowledge of self. A facsimile of a life, of breath, of heart. Darkness not for searching, lights not for revealing, hiding in shadows behind walls and doors of entrapments. A slave to themselves while cracking a whip of deflection, narcissism and lies to trap whoever will believe the regurgitations of those they collect from, without thanks, without remorse, without that ever so important part of us that makes us: a soul.
With a demon to our right and left, we know where we stand: in the fires of creation. They tempt us with their tales of ease and the ideas of others doing our works in our place. But we know where we stand, the powers of creation with opposing forces aside us. Above us are only the products of this life, knowledge, reason, logic, love, possibilities, fantasy, reality, charred and burned but rising from the ashes of our destructions both great and small. The little and great deaths of this world feed us in a way immeasurable by material gains. While these sad, soul fiends never experience death or life in their rite. Vicariously, always the spectator pretending to be constant.
We dance like flames between the world of demons. We create while they destroy. We breathe while they suffocate until they steal the breath that we give freely, restoring their life and taking nothing from us that we do not give. Maniacal, desperate and lonely inside a self they cannot know, that they hide from the mirrors they face. We warm them. They stand in our fires because they know no bonfires within themselves. It's never to say that embers within them do not exist. It's just that the hatch to that internal kiln, for them, is locked. Self-inflicted as they hide their keys from self and soul.
Let the phantasm be that which it is and cut off their feeding schedules. Do not feel trapped. It is they who trap themselves. You are the beauty, the life, the reason, and it takes both the demon and vampire to exist with the Muse and her consorts. One cannot exist without the other. One lives in spite of the other while the other lives no matter, no mind, no concern for anything other than all that is at the very center of it all. The quiet flame of life, creation, the stars, and moons, planets, and galaxies. All that which comes from within goes from without and back again.
Are you a consort to the Muse, a flame betwixt the demons? Burn brightly! Your heat and light are eternal! It feels as though you are trapped, although truly, the trap is yours and the demons come calling. Your light is eternal, theirs, temporary and fueled by theft.
You are the flame of creation, as are we all. How do you choose to stoke your own fires?
It is the simplest, most intricate events in this life that cultivate slowly to make the greatest things happen. These small weavings through time are a treasures we often overlook. Walk each moment in a way that leaves you whole and not wanting. Not always the way it goes but surely the way most rewarding, most memorable and most pleasing when hindsight sits at your feet, beckoning you to understand the lesson.
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Your medicine is in the woods.
Your pharmacy is in your kitchen.