Strange Behavior by Nomar Knight

 

Strange Behavior

by Nomar Knight

Anxiety and depression have made me feel like a stranger in my own skin. My short-term memory isn't as sharp as it used to be, and I'm not sure if it's due to stress or the side effects of the Covid vaccine. I've noticed changes in my thought process and behavior, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to function.

Lately, I've been experiencing repetitive brain fog. I'll put items in the back of my car, only to stop on the side of the road to check if they're still there. What used to be a simple recall of memory now feels like a lit candle losing oxygen, struggling to stay alight. My mind feels clouded, and it's affecting my daily life.

Despite my passion for writing, my condition often leaves me feeling uninspired and unmotivated. It's as if my creativity is trapped at the bottom of a well, and I can't seem to access it. I long to craft interesting characters and embark on wondrous journeys, but my anxiety holds me back.

Procrastination is a constant battle for me, and my anxiety only exacerbates the issue. I know that I need to stick to a routine of writing, planning, and scheming, but it's easier said than done. I'll try to start fresh tomorrow, and hopefully, I can finally claim a victory over my procrastination.

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2023. All rights reserved.

Chronicles of a Tormented Teacher: Tests.

Chronicles of a Tormented Teacher

Tests

     Lately, I've been designing tests that are like a serene field until the unprepared wander carelessly not knowing that it's all a minefield. Last week a few students blew up. While it served as a rude awakening for them, my suspicions were confirmed. We are cultivating a corrupt society. Sorrow crept inside me, yet I wielded the lesson like a sledgehammer. Better to die in my war than to live in a land where real terror dwells.  
     Consequences must be real. I know this, yet I did not push for suspension. Instead, I found solace in arranging a silent, quiet torment. I hand out rewards to those worthy of receiving them. For this semester, the wounded will lose out on that privilege. 
     Amazingly, the kids have noticed something different about me this year. Some don't like it. Perhaps they see an emptiness in my eyes, or an intolerance built by time. I'm trying to do my best. I learned many years ago from one of my great teachers that I should always do my best and let God do the rest.  While I try to walk in the light, I gravitate to darkness. It's who I've always been. Such a delicate dance between dark and light, fire and ice. 
     Ah well, I must rest. Maybe tomorrow the light will win. Maybe...maybe not.    



~ Nomar

The Birth of a Hero

We are more often treacherous through weakness than through calculation. ~François VI de la Rochefoucault

The Birth of a Hero

By Nomar Knight

Intense desperation makes for unpredictable and often exciting characters. Unfortunately, our quest to live a peaceful life may seep into our writing. Perhaps that may have something to do with the fact I haven’t written anything worth bragging about in over a month. I need to get back to basics. I need to open my mind to evil alternatives that dangle within reach. I need to embrace the darkness once again.

Considering I have just worked ten months with teens, I think it’s only fitting that I torture a teenage character. Yes, what do all teens crave for? Some want to be popular, others want to be good at something they suck at, and yet others want to fix a part of themselves they deem damaged. Girls may focus on their bodies while boys may want the hottest girl or to be the best at some sport. Boys love a good ego boost. That settles it; my next character will be an average looking 17 year old boy who has a knack for being invisible to his peers. Invisible until a new student bullies him and brings out a power he doesn’t know he has. The hero is a chronic daydreamer who when faced with constant harassment, discovers that the mind is truly a powerful weapon.

Ah, alas I can shake up what’s been lying dormant inside me this past year. Writing supernatural suspense is like chugging down an icy Corona beer while lying under a palm tree on a Caribbean beach. Refreshing! Let’s see if I can pull it off. Yes, that’s right! I’m going to attempt my first Young Adult novel and I’m hoping you, my wonderful Knight Chills readers, will cheer me on every step of the way. Lord knows I’ll need a swift kick in the ass on occasion.

Catch you on the Dark Side! 

©2014 Copyright.  Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Presentation

A Soul Corrupted

A Soul Corrupted

By Nomar Knight

Anger can be a most useful emotion. Unfortunately, most people allow raw anger to turn into loathing. I’ve heard some people say that humans manifest their feelings about themselves when lashing out at others. Although this may be true, anger is best reserved for help with menial tasks such as prying open a stubborn lid on a jar. Carrying a grudge is indeed like swallowing something toxic and expecting the object of their anger to die as if that person were drinking the tainted blood coursing through their veins. Inevitably, when the fuming tyrant realizes what’s boiling in their insides does not affect their target, another sliver of the angry soul burns off and permeates into the mountain of unnecessary despair.

As luck would have it, there are numerous ways to burn up the toxic emotion and use it for good instead of evil. One way is to start an exercise program. A good couple mile run can do wonders in redirecting the draining emotion. However, if you prefer exercising the brain over fine tuning the body, then a great way to use anger is through imaginary characters. Through writing, one can exact vengeance in a way that would not permit the aggressor to be thrown in jail. In reality, I’ve read news reports where mugging victims that reacted with anger got injured or killed. I say True Death would be extremely counterproductive.

Now, for those stubborn wannabe vigilantes reading this, if you insist on staying angry, then perhaps a quiet way to let out your dark side is to be knighted into the realm of witchcraft. No, I’m kidding of course. Not everyone can possess my powers. Not everyone can call upon the forces of vengeance from the supernatural realm and meat out a fitting punishment. Don’t worry. I haven’t killed any characters in at least a month.

At any rate, if you take one thing away from this blog entry is that anger is indeed a wasted emotion that would be best channeled into something productive.

By the way, if you really want to get even, then smile at your enemy and forgive them. You may catch them off guard and release the poison from your soul once and for all.

Catch you on the Dark Side! 

©2014 Copyright.  Nomar Knight. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Presentation

Lost and Afraid

Mazeophobia is the fear of getting lost. When I was young, I hated getting lost. There was something about being in unfamiliar territory. I despised the body's mechanism for advertising my stress. I'd wipe my sweaty palms off my jeans, all the while searching my surroundings, wide eyed. It wasn't long before probing eyes would glare in my direction, probably wondering what was wrong. Of course, I took the penetrating stares to be an invasion of my person. An attempt by aliens to abduct me and take me to an even stranger place. Then there was the fear that instead of concerned humans encircling me to lend a helping hand, that they'd be something monstrous like witches, vampires and werewolves. I'd heard the stories about children who'd go missing after getting lost. I was determined that wouldn't happen to me. No way I was going to let some monster eat me and wipe me off the face of the earth.

Some years later, I recall being in a car with someone that still had Mazeophobia. Of course, the fact that I seemed in control didn't mean I was cured; better perhaps, but not cured. Anyway, we wandered off from the desired destination and because of my refusal to ask for directions, I am a man after all, she had a fit. Curses spewed my way, loud shouts of nonsense words I automatically tuned out. I wanted to shut her up. Violent thoughts entered my mind, briefly, but then I recalled my childhood and my fear of getting lost. When the woman realized I was calmer than ever, she stopped screaming and asked, "You know where we are? You must know because you're so calm." I nodded, "Of course I know where I am." With raised eyebrows she asked, "Where are we?" I struggled to fight off a grin. Looking straight ahead at uncharted territory, I no longer saw the dangers of getting lost. I no longer worried about the boogie men who waited outside of my safe car for me to step out and become a victim; another statistic of a lost soul disappearing into an abyss of evil. I loosened my grip on the steering wheel, tilted my head towards the frightened lunatic and in a calm, soft voice said, "I know exactly where we are. We're in my car."

I expected her to attack with a barrage of punches, but instead she sat quietly, staring at the dashboard. I broke her trance with the most confident voice I could muster, "I'll find the place. I promise."

Through clenched teeth she said, "If you don't ask someone for directions, I swear I'll kill you, leave your body here in this Godforsaken place and I'll tell everyone you went missing because you got out to pee and got lost. The authorities will believe me, cause I'm a woman." Her eyes bulged from their sockets. I swear I saw a vein pulsating on the side of her head.

I spotted an elderly gentleman, lowered the window, bit the bullet, and asked him for directions. The old man threw us off further from our intended destination. Before the woman could get another panic attack, I calmly said, "I will find the place because the force is with me."

Experience has shown me that the world really is a small place.


Nomar Knight