The Sacred and the Profane

Originally written May 24, 2006

Of course, some things never work out how you plan them. I assumed I would be going to graduation, rocking out the stage and then triumphantly making my way down the hill for the second graduation in three years. After one of the most exhilarating and exhausting days of my life, I could do no wrong; everything was how it should have been. I had accomplished something great, like after the election last year, where I could fall down into bed, and with that last moment of consciousness say to myself I've done good.

But there is something about the Hellmouth that keeps following me around, it always bears its teeth a moment after you think it's all in the past. We've returned to the beginning, to the home of the leprechauns, the momentary lapses of reason and where the big bad makes his bed. And in this moment I realize graduation, that giant snake demon, the three years of law school, the backstabbing politics; it doesn't have this grand conclusion. Kansas may be over, but the storylines don't entirely fade away. Chicago may just be a lay over, but the past and future are still roaming about this town.

If my entire Battle of Evermore had only focused on getting through the insanity that has been law school, then I would never again be compelled to make my confessions. Which tells me it wasn't the accomplishment that was the end all be all I had made it out to be, that it doesn't end here, that there is still work to be done.

The world won't change while you sleep. I'm back on the Hellmouth; and I promised a day of reckoning by the likes we've never seen before.