Voices of the Ribbons©.

 I Am The Abyss By Soldier/ The Black "Be careful when you stare into the abyss because, eventually, the abyss stares back." "I AM the abyss."          The Devil Judge TvN K-drama 2021 Push someone long enough and hard enough and one of two things will happen: they break, or they push back. Take them to the edge of the abyss and either the abyss claims them or they claim the abyss. To claim the abyss is to become the abyss. I'm not here to spout a tirade of pointless self-pitying nonsense. Fuck that. I don't do self-pity. Shit, I know there are  people who've had it far worse . I know that, on the whole, day-by-day, I've got it good in comparison to most of the rest of the world. Every day, someplace, somehow, people suffer. Shit happens. Everywhere.       But choosing not to acknowledge the bad stuff doesn't mean I have to accept it if I have the power to reject it.       And I'm rejecting it. I've always been a...

 Just Be You But. . . Who Am I? (By Tai?) There is so much advice circulating everywhere, in all forms of media and from all kinds of sources, to simply be yourself . What does this even mean? Don't have an answer to complex problems facing you in your everyday life? Just be yourself. Don't know how to respond to an ethical dilemma? Just be yourself.  As a writer, don't know what to write or how to convey your voice to your audience? Again,  just be yourself.     That's a fabulously easy piece of advice to give. Three easy words and one easy catchphrase: Just be yourself . But, what does this mean if you have no idea who yourself  even is? I've been struggling with this very dilemma for more years than I care to count. Whose voice do I consider my own? Who of all my inner voices speaks for me on any given day or under any given circumstance? Am I speaking from my own beliefs, on behalf of others who lack a voice of their own, or under a misguided pressure t...

PR15M: The Price of Freedom By Ice It should have been a relief, the burden of ten years, at last, lifted from my shoulders. It was, instead, a nightmare.  My days were filled with relentless questions alongside the equally relentless probing and examination by the medical staff. Despite the tight security, cameras frequently flashed from unexpected corners and doorways and nothing, nowhere, seemed safe.  Instead of the freedom I'd prayed and fought for, I'd somehow returned to the captivity I'd left behind and I had no idea how to voice my anxiety or my fears, and Taehyun's absence became an ever greater chasm in my heart. If it wasn't enough that my days offered no relief, my nights were little better, a muddled confusion drifting between dream and reality, nightmare and peace. It was in the night that Taehyun would return to me, holding me close, his body pressed reassuringly to mine; his scent, his touch, his warmth, his whisper in my ear.  And then I would wake...

 A Day in the Life... Phase One: The Dawn Chorus By Writer Seriously, the West Coast (as in, the wet n wild  West Coast of the South Island of New Zealand) isn't much fun in the winter if you don't handle cold and gloomy very well. I  do not handle cold and gloomy very well AT ALL, ergo, I do not handle the West Coast in the winter very well.       Don't get me wrong, it's nice on those rare days where there's a crisp frost (anywhere down to -15C in winters past) followed by pale blue skies and spectacular views to snow-capped mountains. But when it rains miserably for weeks at a time, or when the fog is so thick you can barely see your hand in front of your face, or the mist lies inside the house equally to the outdoors... winter loses its appeal pretty damn fast.      Add to that; damp and muddy dogs, sad guineapigs in houses we struggle to find windows of opportunity to clean, mud-encrusted ponies waiting for hay, soggy cats, and weep...

  Five Months Later By The Author This was never meant to happen, this absence, this break. Then again, many things aren't meant to happen and that doesn't stop them from happening anyway.  Still, all things for a reason and the last few months have been vital for both a re-set and a re-invention. We can move on now, to bigger, better, bolder things. First of all, the next novel is in its final stages of preparation for release (to be confirmed for sometime in August) and meanwhile, we're working hard on the one to follow that. We're expanding our horizons, testing our limits, each project more challenging than the one before. We live to learn and, for us, the end goal is to do justice to the stories we're given to tell. And, yes, it's we  now. The Muse will be sharing this forum with me, along with all other platforms, to permit me (as in The Author ) to do more of what I   do best while not leaving you, what few of you there currently are, left unattended. You...

 PR15M: Guilt By Ink Those first days after Ice’s return were overwhelming and, if for me, then how much more so for Ice. I could feel it radiating from him in waves that pulsed in my temples and throbbed in my chest and yet there was precious little I could do except be there for him in the quieter hours of the night after the doctors and the visitors finally left him to some measure of peace. It wasn’t surprising. Hae-jin and the Black Dragon security team managed to keep a great deal of the media at bay, but news of his return slipped out despite their best efforts. Journalists camped at the hospital doors and did their best to make it to the private room the company had transferred Ice to and so security around him was tight. Then, naturally, there was his actual physical condition to take into consideration, which wasn’t great, and the questions. So many questions. His physical and emotional condition led to many of those questions. It wasn’t only about where he’d bee...

 When I was a Child By Guest Contributor: SueC " When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things." Corinthians 13:11 I remember learning this in Sunday school, gosh, how long ago was that? Sometimes, it feels like a lifetime ago and sometimes it feels like just last week. Our Sunday school teacher, Mrs. MacEachern, whose voice always sounded like she was singing an octave higher than God intended, would tell us, 'Don't worry about what it means, you've got the rest of your lives to figure that out. For now, you must commit it to memory." I remember thinking, "Well, that's dumb!" Now, here I sit, the events of this morning swirling in my head. The day started out like any other. I woke at the usual time (7am), ate the usual breakfast, (Cheerios with milk and half a banana), watched my usual program (Captain Kangaroo) while absentmindedly searching for treas...