it all would come down to what jon decided to do. it was his choice. becoming lord commander was not something he asked for, neither was defacto leader of the wildlings. now, on top of everything, the last male targaryen heir to the iron throne? he didnt ask for any of it. fate was thrust upon him at every turn and when finally faced with a choice that only he could make, he decided to take tyrions advice and act quickly and swiftly, just like when he hung his predecessor to lord commander and his conspirators. jon had never been afraid or reluctant to duel out justice when it was called for, but he has been a reluctant leader. a brave fighter but a humble diplomat. he allowed himself to love again after ygritte and not only did the woman turn out to be his sister but another tyrant leader and threat to his family. a threat to his crown! he was the only one who could kill daenerys but did he ever imagine in a million years that he would end up where he began? being sent back to the nights watch, exiled from westeros with his secrets intact. maybe he thought that it would turn out differently, just a little glimmer in the back of his mind that lured him with the thought of being king, all he had to do was do what he had always done, which were the needs of the many over the needs of the one.
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Selected Scenes: The Apostle
sonny is as devout as southern ministers come. once a prominent revivalist preacher with his own congregation and the ideal life, it all seems to come crashing down on him: his wife is having an affair; his church votes to remove him; and his previously unspoken alcoholism and temperament get the better of him and force him on the run from the police. however, through his ordeal his faith never wavers. he is congruent and admits to his mistakes. he feels his only way out is to atone and to be reborn. after self baptizing he is resurrected as “the apostle EF” (his first and middle initials) and finds the salvation he is looking for when a small town devoid of a place of worship follow him.
Continue readingThe Dream Diary: September 2016
we seek refuge in a confessional. on the internet you can be anybody you want to be. write with a pseudonym. be the racist young pornographer you can’t when you’re sixty and work the nine-to-five-am at mcdonalds. i’m twenty eight and it feels like i’m sixty sometimes, working the daily grind. can’t retire early. have to keep going. but i’m not sixty. and that naked maturity and illusion of experience betrays my own nature sometimes. i am a scared, wily man with the same issues that everyone else has. they are compounded as my own. everyones’ are. and it is in that selfish grey area where ignorance resides.
i’d like to think i’m not an ignorant person, only because of how strongly that word has been dissected in present day discussion. it is ignorant to assume anything about anyone without knowing them first. it is ignorant to have an opinion on something you know nothing about. but in the traditional sense of human kindness i am ignorant. because i have chosen to put myself in situations where philanthropy does not exist unless i myself will it to be. so i see the worst in people because the worst is all they have to give at the time. it goes back to the classic argument of whether people are good or evil by nature. blame the parents. blame myself. i’m sick of dealing with other people’s bullshit.
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