Jim Witness

Jim was an alter ego of mine. I used him readily over the past year. He was responsible for representing the darker side of me. Jokes about abortion, dead people receiving bad customer service, etc. were all Jim's domain. He was a witness to the things which I was afraid to say for fear that people would misjudge me or think me insincere or worst "dangerous". Stephen King expounding dark thoughts s'ok, but if my journal is found will I need to go for psychological evaluation.
"Write a novel", you say. Well, I shall, says I.

And I would divide my thoughts into separate spaces for this purpose. The freedom of anonymity is devine in it's fluidity. So many smiles. But yet why keep it a secret. I became the watcher many times and caught glimpse of people and their machinations. They were not of afraid of the stranger because who would a stranger tell and who would believe a stranger. Their complexities, quirks, and habits shirking reason were witnessed and forgotten. They felt good to tell the nothingness. Yes, someone knew. He was Jim Witness.

The concept of self-death came into play with Jim. After years of being conditioned to hide things for the sake of avoidance of condemnation, it was time to break free. To accept the responsibility for what was coming out of my mouth. To state that yes, I am drawn to the obscure and the occult and I can be friends with almost anyone regardless of licentiousness. But reaching towards the sun, through these words, up out of the ground is another story.

For what comes out of one's mouth is reflected in the mind and is very powerful. Most do not realize this and thus reap what they have sown. I had a dream long ago that the actions we make are reflected by deity above, in what would be an endless lake. Reflection.

Self-death is the challenging of the ideas that have been solid for so long that the reason has been forgotten. Most keep the stability and the tranquility abound. Iviting though it is not to have the worry and the fear. Fear is my opiate. The antidote to fear is action. Constant action. Pour it like poison on the boils and sores of fear. That is the way of it. Do not talk about it.

Jim has been put to rest for he has grown obsolete and faded. He no longer holds the power he once did because his mystery is no longer. He has been fused into me, the new creation. The human race is an ever-evolving type of species. They repeat words, behavior, and ideas but from within comes new things which spring eternal in new directions. Much like the fractal of never-ending spires.

I miss Jim sometimes though. Eulogizing him now, as a gruff, dark, slightly sadistic, man would be an incomplete statement. Jim longed for light to bring him from his place. To have him believe in himself and that good has not perished.

Change is. There is no definition which only comes from perspective. Change, is.
Hurdles of self-belief and exploration are the keys to becoming. I have been becoming for a long. Courage to look inside oneself and explore to say, "there is more to who I am and I am going to find it." should not be spoken. It must be written on the heart. There is always more if one has the courage to look and explore.

The final piece which brought Jim's end, was the acceptance. Acceptance, complete, brought Jim to his resting place. For accepting completely, the good, the bad and the maybe about oneself is important for homeostasis of the soul. Lest we forget.

Jim, thanks, man. Rest in Peace.