I sense the force. Yes, from Star Wars. I cannot think of a better sentence to explain this phenomena.

I’ve never heard voices inside my head, as the phrase goes. What I do, is I sense. Spidey senses are tingling.

I’ve ruined much in my life, on my journey. I think I want to say that, because that’s why I write. Lessons learned, although, the old version of myself would succumb to temptation. And, thus, it was if I had never learned anything.

However, I can sense that I’ve made wise decisions when they matter most. I can say that it’s difficult to sometimes accept that I am still alive. Looking back to remember, I think, there were more than a few times, where I don’t know how I made it out alive.

I would succumb to temptation because I didn’t want to feel restless, or uneasy within. Maybe you can relate. When that restlessness attempts to subdue my energy, I go to a healthy outlet. Outlets that, are not destructive. Outlets that make me feel good about me, and help me quiet the restless monster that visits from time to time.

Time, if I overthink time… A part of me comes out that isn’t wise to reveal in these essays. This is creative non-fiction. The part that is deranged and psychotic, goes 100 percent into my creative fiction. The fiction stories I write will be disturbing, they will make you feel restless and uneasy. Maybe you’ll need a nice glass of wine after. You’ve been warned.

However, there are several authors who write splatterpunk stories. They are fiction, and, they are disturbing. For myself, this is therapy. I don’t know how, but splatterpunk showed me that it’s okay to write stories that make people feel sick inside. It astounds me that people love this stuff, but it’s true. Perhaps the demographics isn’t as far reaching as say, horror that is of ghosts and demons. Maybe, I in fact do not know. What I do know is that it’s a thing that enough people love. Enough people support splatterpunk horror that I can feel good that maybe, my work will be read by people who must have splatterpunk.

I will feel pain and discomfort. It’ll pass. Everything is passing. That is, within the constraints of the mind. Although, if you can dwell in between moments, you will dwell in the eternal. It is in-between the moments I saw.

I saw because, there is an invisible gnome perched atop my head. Much is revealed to the gnome, things I myself can never see. I entered the secret level. I see now what the gnome sees. I’m aware of that gnome. I can never go back, because I feel like Neo after Trinity kisses him. I can never go back. I can’t unsee what the gnome sees.

The mysteries that we all question, are unimportant. There is much I’m not meant to know. I honor this. I submit. There is an adjective that escapes my brain, but that’s okay. The point is, I’ve given up the ghost on seeking for what will never be known. I don’t want to know. I’m glad and content with the gnome.

We all have invisible gnomes on top of our domes. All gnomes are different. Some never realize the gnome is there. Believe that’s absurd, it’s impossible. Well, maybe- but maybe not.

I end with saying, maybe. If I overthink, or think to much, I answer my questions with maybe. I wonder this, I wonder that. The answer is maybe. Maybe yes, maybe no. So, I continue with the flow. My flow. As I flow with the flow.

Until next time,

Philip Webb

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