The Scythe in Sator's Square.

New beginnings and acceleration through the divine union.

Perhaps you may ask yourself, as I do on occasion since a month or so into this journey which is Immortal Type: Why the hell would I do something every day that garners no comments or likes? How could this possibly be in any way securing my future? How could this be fun? How could I not give up? What is there to prove? Why don’t I just stop.

As Stephen King once said in regards to why he writes macabra, ‘You ask me as if there is a choice.’

If you’re a writer you have at one point invariably doubted yourself and asked the the terrible ‘Why’ more times to count. And the answers come clear, when you have a dream and a vision, backed by an obsession that you can’t put down.

Granted, a writer’s obsessions are usually different than most, and that’s okay. What I see, every day I follow through with pages, is an accumulation of wealth. I can feel it in my hands. I see the growing stacks of manuscripts from when I started this journey with the typewriter over two years ago, and it is undeniable proof of my ability, passion, and personal drive. Thousands upon thousands of pages. Every one of them is a Non-fungible token.

It is also an accumulation of spiritual wealth, through personal reflection. Every day presents a unique puzzle to solve. I am presented with crude raw materials and with carbon and metal slug I build a foundation from the muck. I dive in deep, and listen, trying to find the heartbeat of the soul. The book starts with a quote. One I discovered this morning after meditation and subsequent studying. Reading. Research. I ride in the cosmic consciousness. I take what I can from it with the time and energy allotted me, and I always deliver on my promise, that I won’t come home at the end of the day empty handed. And I won’t feel sour about the ending either. Nor will those who are most important to me. This is not an option for a fisherman whose purpose is to provide. I am Pisces. I am a fisherman. I’m also the fish. In a way, I am the ocean. If every drop counts, than I count as one of them.

Every day I strengthen my relationship with the Creator. To do this, I must tithe. I must deliver at least ten pages a day. To show the world there’s still someone with a steady heartbeat that’s willing to be a complete fool to get us through very hard times. And be there to celebrate the good ones to come.

At the end of the day, I have pages in hand that are ready for scanning and reading. That is a beautiful offering for self and family. It is a daily harvest. Talk about instant gratification. You get this through the typewritten page. Pure expression of soul on tap and you get to take the memories home with you, and share them with the world if that is your desire. Sign me up. I get it now.

What the world needs right now is creativity on tap. To make up for lost time. Without any care of what comes from it—just creativity spewing forth that moves moves so fast and hits so hard on the daily, that there isn’t time to leave a like or comment, I get it—this is what writers must say to survive the long winter. If we believe ourselves to make it.

The proper sunrise will come, and there will be a shower of abundance. And gold. These moments right now, however oscillating, are the times that we shall cherish the most. I know that. And that’s why I am doing my best not to ever complain. I’m mostly smiling.

For I have been given a special gift from the Creator to be able to write spontaneously either alone or in front of eager faces, and express whatever comes to mind through feeling, without faltering. To able to share this here, and not be recognized more than what silent lurking offers, is a gift. To have a strong circle of friends, a full belly and a solid roof is a gift. To be an active, loving father is a gift. To be able to teach by encouraging others to express their individual selves is a gift. No recognition could make this more enjoyable than it already is. I am truly home in the life that I live. So happy this is only shared with an intimate audience. It’s special. These are good moments.

That said, now I am ready for a loving partner. One that will never go away, or even be tempted. Someone honest. Sounds strange, but it’s true. I am beyond the chapter of constant tug-of-wars when it comes to the heart. So I just keep imagining her in all that I write. I know she is here with me and always has been. I’m discovering how this seed was planted long ago. I am happy to dream about her. For I have found peace in my life that I wish to maintain, amplify and share with someone who understands how much of a labor of love this is. To know that I am accomplishing my dreams, every day I write.

Yes, there’s a purpose in doing this. Next time you read these pages, open your heart to it. It’s okay to be vulnerable, it’s science fiction. Lay down your burdens and read something new. We are sharing our ideal reading space with each other. It is intimate. I feel that if these pages were read by the masses it would not be met with silence. For now, we rest in the peaceful embrace of full, individual expression without criticism or compromise following the delivery. That makes this a very special place we share, right here.

There have been songs that I’ve written that I’ve really loved in the past. It’s okay to love the music you write. And the paintings you paint. And the way you dance. So there should be no problem in me loving my writing.

The words I write do not matter as much as the feelings they give you. If you make it through the end feeling satisfied or in need, then the transmission is complete. Next day, I’ll be feeling the same and we’ll take it from there. No harm, no foul. Back to being children on the playground.

We are all just a result of our own thoughts and convictions. Mustn’t get too caught up in analytical thought. Stick with feelings. It’s setup to be mastered on the first day of your life—the feeling is either good or bad. A very good warning system when it comes to what to pursue, and avoid.

These pages exist in order to deepen a shared breath with you. The pages exist for you to feel something new. My intention is to keep the ship steady on. Now enjoy it. It’s science fiction. It’s fantasy. It’s escape.

With Love,

W.V.Carleton