Moon child

In the depths of an oceanic sized mind, the vein of insanity runs deeply  throughout the imaginary creatures that dwell there. Deep turmoil, plagued dreams,  dark swirling waters surround each thought. But amidst the chaos, a bright light shines, offering a small glimmer of hope and clarity in the midst of the madness. 

And so, the creatures that fought against the darkness, striving to find peace and serenity in the midst of their turbulent world, eventually find their calm, their tranquility. Only achieved by releasing the poison and the restless demons that lie in wait just beneath the surface. 

Release comes as the opening of the glass bell jar, containing the live captured butterfly. The flight to freedom is a split second, compared to the many orbits of lunacy.

To acheive greatness it's necessary to first fight the raging fires within, and replace them with cool, tranquil waters. 

The quiet mind.

Not easily acheivable for a moon child. The moon is deceptive. It harbours deep fears and insecurities, no one wants to be in the shadow of the moon.

The conflict arising, being the element of Water and Fire. On the surface you embody the coolness of the water, but beneath you are a raging inferno. Water Sun, and a blood red Fire moon. The conflict arises within, You don't need the trauma bolt-on. 

But you know water is the strongest element, stronger than air, fire or earth. Water can and easily does destroy all of those elements.

Mad Bryan. He was hurt and rejected. I asked him what he was going to do. He replied he would destroy his enemies quietly and simply without the need for violence. His weapon of choice was water. That's no good I retorted, what will that do?

Ahh, you will see.

One night he crept outside and with the assistance of the moonlight, placed a row of small rocks and stones from his antogonists basement door,  leading into the neighbouring river. The following evening their house was flooded. Mad Bryan had exacted his revenge without a single shred of evidence. I really never forgot that, it was almost Biblical.

I often wondered if his days spent in the electric chair had given him magical powers, because he sure knew some weird shit.

One man's prison, is another man's sanctuary. 

'Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.' Kahlil Gibran