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Dark Inside

The dark of a man can show.
That nightness inside a soul
Only hinted at
in the visage of
the one leaning against the wall of the bus station
wearing a touch of Rasputin

in the slit-eyed glance
of one in dirty sweats and matted hair
and busy, empty hands

in the flicker-licked lips
of the one who appears
beyond suspicion
and who acts
oh-so-friendly.

Yes, it shows, but only in a certain

dark light.

Close-up of a hand.

This is a re-post of something I wrote last year, but since I can’t sleep tonight, I think it bears repeating.

___________________________________________________________________________________

(From April 2009)

What was JK Rowling channeling when she brought to life the dementors, beings that suck the joy from others, leaving them hopeless and bereft of soul?  She must have had her own private experience of such a person to create that image and to make it resonate with so many people.

When I did a search on WordPress for the term “dementor”, I came up with a few blogs that supported my theory that there are personal dementors out there in this world.  Someone, some living, breathing being who is capable of taking the wind out of your sails and stomping on your dreams through their words and feelings.  It is sad.  It is sad that these people are the way they are.  It is sad that we give them so much power over us.  But compassionate people feel for people who hate – that’s where we wind up giving away our power, and letting ourselves be ground down by that hatred – we want to help and we don’t want to BE LIKE THEM.  We don’t want ANYONE to be like them.  Those personal dementors have somehow let their happiness evolve into something bad and painful, and good people do not want to see that happen to anyone.

Compassion aside, I cannot fall victim to it.  I can’t summon a Patronus in my own defense.  (Though I may eat a bit of chocolate to help myself feel better after an “encounter”.)  I cannot sacrifice myself or those I love to feed the dull, yet gleeful, hatred that these personal dementors try to indulge.  I cannot permit rampant, insane, spiteful manipulation of my future.  I will not.

So perhaps I WILL figure out how to perform my own Patronus charm, taking a memory that makes me extremely happy and focusing that positive power out into the universe to combat this sense of vicious evil that my personal dementor emanates.

Time to go to bed and work on it.

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