Birth
“It’s as dark as a badger’s arse in here,” I said to myself when I opened my eyes. I couldn’t see a thing, and that was the sixth day in a row. Still, I repeated the sentence to myself again, as a kind of private joke, a reminder of the bizarre circumstances.
Every now and then I find myself in a situation where I think: “How the hell did I end up here?” And this was one of them. In this case the answer was fairly simple. I had booked myself a week-long dark retreat. I had been toying with the idea of shutting myself away in a dark solitary cell for a little over two years. It seemed like a good way to take a break from the world and, in a way, from myself too – more precisely, from my rushed self. A friend of mine, familiar with the ways of the dark at least by hearsay, told me that being alone with yourself in the darkness might not be that easy. Apparently you can meet your own chimeras in there, and they can take on almost real dimensions. That made me all the more interested – I like finding things out about myself.
But I still felt bad about “throwing away” seven free days. After all, I could go to the mountains instead, to the cottage, make something, fix things, and so on. So for a long time I kept putting it off indefinitely. But the seed of the idea had been planted and it was sprouting. It was watered quite regularly by my talent for swamping myself with work, obligations and hobbies. Then the seed got a hefty dose of fertiliser as my wedding date approached. I decided it might be a good opportunity to rest before such a big step. And to have a proper think about myself and about how to answer the question in the wedding hall to the best of my knowledge and conscience.
Read more at https://fbti.blog/2024/12/07/sex-tma-a-rokenrol/
