The Perfect Day

I didn’t know or care what a perfect day was until I unintentionally experienced one. It was a day off. Like most days away from my fake job, I rose from bed to do my real job. I made coffee and picked up a book.

I read some of Bernard Cornwell’s Harlequin, specifically the last battle at Crécy. I love how Bernard somehow teaches history through light reading. During lunch, I watched my favorite YouTuber’s daily video. It was coincidentally a historical evaluation of the Battle of Crécy. How strange?

After lunch, I began writing to reach my daily word count. I wrote about a battle between a hairy monster and a serried shield wall. It was the first time I had shaped such a scene. The monster’s long arms crashed against the shields like poleaxes. After sliding my keyboard away for the day, I made dinner and watched a few more historical YouTube videos.

As the sun was lowering behind the horizon, I put my keyboard back in place to play some video games. In other words, I strapped on my shield, flourished my blade and ran into battle. It was bloody chaos. But I ruled the night and slaughtered my enemies. After many long battles, I unstrapped my shield and pushed my keyboard away.

It had been a long day. I capped it off by watching a documentary in bed. It was a doc’ about the Norman conquest. Seeing a theme yet? When the flick ended, I closed my eyes and realized what I had done. It was beautiful.

The perfect day.


Thinking of becoming nocturnal? Here are a few pros and cons plus some things to consider.

As an introvert author in Victoria BC Canada, being nocturnal was GRAND at first. There’s a 24/7 grocery store a twenty-minute walk from my abode. My smile was huge when I strutted down the busiest road in my neighborhood one faithful night. There was not a single person to be seen. It may be because I like to think more than I speak but damn was it ever nice not to have loud cars zipping around chaotically as I performed my thang down the serene sidewalk, thinking too much for my own good.

If you consider walking a form of meditation, then you probably already know how great walking at night can be. My city doesn’t have what you could call a prominent nightlife, especially on Tuesdays. When it comes to nighttime traffic, obviously Downtown Victoria, Esquimalt and James Bay are different stories compared to Gorden Head and Oak Bay. That’s exactly why being nocturnal could be interesting for an extrovert as well. No matter which jungle or forest you live in, there should always be something to do. But if your forest is full of crickets, wanting someone to talk to can drag you back into daytime life. And that’s when we stop talking about things that can be interesting.

Notice how I said at first in the very first sentence of this mediocre blog post.

I did that because I was a noobie to the nocturnal life about six months ago and now it’s catching up quick, Billy Boy. If you want to be nocturnal, you have to BE nocturnal or else you’ll become one of those sleepy, grumpy people (hopefully not, this was a joke with a hint of truth is all). During my half-year experimentation extravaganza, I fell into all sorts of slips and cycles of sleep and the drear no sleep at all.

My favorite part was when I WAS nocturnal. I hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. That’s how it’s supposed to be.

That was at first. Ah, it was wonderful. I was writing the ending to Knights of the Dawn on Halloween night. That whole week I had gained a ritual of a routine. I would stir out of bed to become the raccoon the neighbors hear in their sleep. With Lord Spywater and his epic last stand against Lord Highcross spiraling through my head, I took long walks in a pitch-black soccer field. The air was so dark all around me that I could open my eyes and envision everything I was to write happening live before my eyes like virtual reality. I pictured the mist skirting the destriers’ hocks as the knights led the wains of death down the road. I looked to the midnight firmament and descried Lord Spywater’s raven swooping down from a bright blue dawn. That bloody book Knights of the Dawn would not have been the same if I hadn’t taken those eldritch midnight walks, I tell ya.

At first it was wonderful. Now as I write this I’ve been up for more than twenty-four hours and I don’t know why I’m writing this. I’m hungry but I’m too tired and lazy to go to the store, plus I don’t want to deal with all those noisy, chaotic cars. Take from this what you will. I’m going to bed.


Mahout: Sir Eveland’s Word of the Night – Dec 13th, 2016

A mahout is a person who rides, trains or tends an elephant. In ancient times, elephants were often used as weapons of war. They were siege towers of flesh that could stomp their way through formations and pump fear through the hearts of the enemy. It was important for these elephants to be well tamed and controllable, hence a mahout had one of the most important jobs on the battlefield. If mahouts failed to control their elephants, a battle could end horribly in unexpected ways. In many historical cases, mostly due to oncoming arrow volleys, frenzied elephants trampled their own side and tossed their mahouts to the ground. Today, however, a mahout’s job is much more peaceful. In Africa and Asia, you can find mahouts at many attractions offering rides to tourists. It is a personal opinion when I say mahouts have one of the best jobs in the world.

I See A Sober Christmas

This is the age of desire, when men can freely look upon the greatness of others.

The solemnity of simplicity is lost in the West.

What contentedness remains thrives during Christmas, when men happily trash their greatest desires to embrace the finer parts of life.

To see the holy lights with sober eyes makes water swell in my heart, to pour out onto the paper which I labor over in the night.

I see a sober Christmas. I need a sober Christmas. My heart is tainted and I need more love.

Words go unfinished in my mind as I race for understanding. Why was I cursed with a mind that only shines in darkness?

What has happened to mankind? We put down each other to raise up ourselves. Evil thrives in us to create evil in the world. What good remains is now more valued.

Why do I cry when I should be celebrating? I need affection. I am sick of loneliness, of being high in the night all alone with no one to talk to but myself in my madness.

When I see the bright lights of Christmas with sober eyes, I will not be able to restrain my tears, as I cannot now nor will I ever.

Promulgate: Sir Eveland’s Sexy, Historical Word of Sunday, Nov 13th

Promulgate (pronounced just how it’s spelled) is a somewhat archaic verb with two slightly different definitions. To promulgate means to promote or make widely known. For example, I will be vehemently promulgating Knights of the Dawn over the holidays as its official release date is November 22nd, 2016! Promulgate also means to put a law into effect by official proclamation. For example, a promulgated order says Henry must always be greeted with the royal salute upon entering the king’s castle.

Thanks for reading today’s word! I’ll try to post a word every day henceforth. I’ll also be writing a blog post soon to show you all my “Book of Words.” Every morning I read for two hours before I begin my day, and while reading I write down every word I don’t know (so I actually have, on average, 10 words of the day. It’s just a matter of choosing one to share with you guys). After doing this for a year, my “Book of Words” has grown thicker than my thumb! I can’t wait to show you it, as keeping a “Book of Words” on hand at all times, as I’ll later explain thoroughly, is a must-do for any serious reader or writer.

Family Day Speech

wait for all to be one again

If you’ll allow me to be metaphorical, I’d like to send out my Family Day wishes.

Here in Canada, it’s Family Day. Deep in the universe, outside the limitations of perception, it’s always family day. The dead feast awakened in the Hall of Patient Waiting. Their wars have ended. Combined as one, they wait for us. They are born and living, while we still learn to love each other in the Womb of Separation. Only some of us who are still down here know that all is one, and that everything is part of the same family. The sun is in the leaf, some would say. But even then we let our wisdom slip, and separate our families from other families, our countries from other countries, our ways from other ways. The dead wait for us to learn. When we join them, we will learn that, indeed, all is one. Back to the dust from where we came, some would say.

Yet I send my wishes to my mother, to my father, to my friends, to my country’s allies abroad. For I am only human. Happy Family Day, Canada. My our country and our allies lay down their arms this day to understand we are only fighting ourselves?

“Will the enemy do the same?” some would ask.

I would say, “Perhaps not, but one day we will, one day in the Hall of Patient Waiting, when we will wait for all to be one again.”