Slay Bellz Ring: Ch. 2. Boondock Santa: Back to the Pole
Dec 1. Somewhere above the clouds, over the high seas, en route to the North Pole: So much for six months. Guess the holidays are starting early this year. If I had a chip I’d have to give it back. It’s purely symbolic but since im not gonna have a sponsor any time soon (at least not one worth having!) I gotta do something to show that I’m off the wagon again. A man’s gotta have a code. Because what’s a cowboy without a code? That’s right. A criminal. I’m a lotta things but that distinction is for the cheaters, the hypocrites: the heathens. So in lieu of all that, i bought myself a new suit and I’m headed back to the Pole. I always have to get em custom made but it’s worth it for the way they’re cut. I’m a lot more nimble than people give me credit for and I’ve ripped through more cheap suits than I care to recall. These ones last, though they’d last a whole lot longer if i didn’t soil them with sins, my own & others. Of all people, I’m one who certainly appreciates the art of fine craftsmanship, but one drop is all it takes to… inspire a paint job, if you will. Can’t be any in betweens otherwise the gig is up. In for a penny, in for a pound. It’s an expensive habit. Starting from scratch once again... In the early days i wore red on purpose. To hide. It only made things worse. Enabled my naughty ways. I needed a change, an escape. When I first made the move to the pole, I chose white out of practicality. It’s a beautiful landscape and I wanted to melt away & freeze into it. Along the way, I burned my reds for both warmth & purging, vowing never to return. It’s a truly grueling biome, but it’s a place where I found I can be free. Commune with the elements and be a part of the systems. It’s not murder when it’s part of the natural cycle of life. And I admire the hell outa that. Aspire to it even. Plus, you try hiding in the tundra wearing all red and let’s see how long you last. Predators are lurkin and I don’t blame em. It’s a real life food desert out there and I’m not shy about the fact that I’m a tasty target. Probably could get through most of the winter off the blubber I got. I’m a huge supporter of the local wildlife though. You go off the grid, you gotta live with the lifestyle. Can’t fault em for bein on the hunt for this yummy tummy. So you see, at first, the white provided camouflage. But as the days went by it became sanctuary. In place & in spirit. From then on I chose white for the new leaf I aimed to turn. The purity. The sanctity. I thought it would help me heal, to think twice about the ax. But i could only escape the world for so long. The letters had a way of finding me. ANd i responded. I couldn’t help myself. But then I slipped. Into the sweetness of savagery, sullying the fine work. It’s a shame really. I kept them clean for as long as I could muster. I’m coming to terms with the fact that red is what I was always meant to wear, one way or another. I suppose a sojourn it inevitably turned out to be… Over time, you get to know the people on your list well. On both sides. Even better on the naughty side. Those are the ones you have to plan for, keep an eye on. I don’t like to call them victims. Sounds so weak and helpless. They’ve earned their fate so I want to give them the courtesy of agency. Customers? Clientele? Patrons? Im still workshoppin. Naughty or nice, credit’s gotta be given where credit’s due. They give me laurels but im no Saint. After all, the holiday I “represent” was a sham, a ploy to pacify the people through the darkness. He was born in the spring. They show their true colors when they decide to worship me. Everything that’s wrong with society and the people who are a product of it. I’ve tried desperately to remove myself from it. But the hours are unbeatable and the perks are too good. We all gotta eat. There’s more to life than a full belly, though. More to fulfillment than knowing your lights are on and your rent is paid. I’m looking for that. The intangible currency of worth that comes with knowing we are living in our purpose. And while I may not always be proud of the mechanism, truth be told, I’m finding it. It’s a sick kind of sanctity, but it’s mine and I’ve made a certain level of peace with that. Whether it’s the life I chose or the life that chose me will always be a mystery but we’ve taken hold of each other and it works. Do we chase the dragon or does the dragon chase us? But who needs dragons when you have Reindeer? It’s been a while and I miss them. If we’re being honest, I don’t technically even need them to pull this machine. This shit rides automatic. But I like the company. Feels good to have the wind in my hair. And they could sure use the extra green. It’s been tough out there for them. For everyone. The world is changing and it’s a lonely life in the tundra. Society has a nasty way of driving magical things to the fringes. They’re no exception to that. Besides, it’s a much more festive ride when you have company. For now the cruise control feels nice. A last opportunity to kick my feet up for the next few hours. The calm before the storm. So i say: Sayonara! Vacation time is over. It’ll be good to see the elves. They know how to liven up the spirit. Let’s go make some fuckin toys..!