the World & Finias Groove

I lay awake last night, my mind stirring over a coined expression of mine. I rambled over and over in my mind, this stir of echoes.

the 'Hollows'

So many...

innumerable.

By now you're probably asking yourself,

"what are the hollows"


The 'hollows' are those places in your life where a small death has occurred. Those places where a piece of you has died. That cold place, the shadow realm of your insipidness.
Once a hollow is formed, it becomes even easier to form many other hollows. I once wrote a piece that I hope to share with you, the story was derived from the 'hollows' that I bare.
The story is called 'the Keep.' I described it as being forbidden by angels and for gods to speak, for it was there that, they to could find eternal sleep.

With every inch of our flesh a living canvas of reflection, we seek to have that place so hidden, that at times we tend to hide ourselves inside it. Lost within a world that we ourselves created, entombed, we create our cask, we become our own Amontillado's. I've taken for account that some of us aren't communicators; understandable. This isn't about your ability to communicate, but more so, your ability to hide. Your own cloak and dagger tactics that has you the ability to survive; to carry-on; to put up the good fight. Until one day, the stranger that we feared, becomes the stranger within ourselves.

I have created so many of these wondrous harbingers over the course of my life. Wondrous, because of how unconsciously they were constructed. A waste basket in the fabric of reason. They become detrimental for my existence. It's detrimental to keep locked away those things that I have found myself to have a hard time dealing with. Some may choose to deal with them at a time when the emotions are raw; freshly exposed. They'll allow themselves to ponder over what has happened to them, and over ponder what has happened to them. They hope that they will find some divine answer, and they treat it as though it is the riddle of the Sphinx. Until one day they're a blubbering mess. A shell is all that is left of those who try at first to deal with those extremely cruel punishments that life has to offer again, and again. But for the rest of us there has been what seems to be a gift at first, realized to be a curse in the later. A place where all these atrocities seem to dissipate into the cool calming of the numb. Fade into the ever reassuring quiet of the 'hollow.'

The school age bullies - the Hollow
Family begrudging - the Hollow
Criticisms - the Hollow
Broken dreams - the Hollow
Broken hearts - the Hollow
Failed relationships - the Hollow
Addictions - the Hollow

This list could go on for days, weeks, into years. So many experiences throughout my lifetime. If I were to have allowed myself to be overcome by any one event, I'd still be back at that one event in my life. Or am I?

This is what others, even myself, have termed as baggage. You'll never escape where you have been, or those things you have allowed to happen, or were forced into happening. Life doesn't give a get out of life free card. So in turn, I guess this makes the bulk of us liars, lying by these countless omissions. Those things we are afraid to discuss with others, because we ourselves haven't yet dealt with them. A motto, a philosophy of mine is:


"There is nothing worse in the world than self rape."


To be raped is a horrible event in ones life, but what if you are that rapist of yourself? What happens when you start to violate yourself? This is the downside to the hollow. It is easy to lose yourself into one of them, getting to comfortable with tossing pieces of yourself into them. The hollow becoming your new identity. An example: sex for drugs, or money. Guilt is thrown into the hollow, and justification takes it's place. There are many different kinds of hollows, because there are so many different kinds of people.


But there is that reminder from time to time, calling out from within that great chasm comes your stir of echoes; those times of old. Letting you know that's it's full and there's no more it can hold. Some refer to what I am saying as, "bottling it up inside." But no matter what the expression is, I think you get the gist of this.

My 'Hollow' is full, it has been for awhile now. But I like to share my experiences with others, because I know that somewhere out there, there is someone who needs to hear it. To know that they are not alone in this ever expanding dream in the mind of a god, that they have someone that understands them, that shares that similarity, that commonality.