Episode 268: Inspiriting
April 15th, 2024
Kristen Zaza
[Eerie Theme Music.]
[Your Narrator:]
Hello, my friends.
I’m just sitting out here on the roof, enjoying the fresh air.
It’s still quite cold out at night, it’s only spring, after all, but it’s nice to be outside and to have a clear night full of stars.
Well, that’s all there are out here, now - for miles and miles and miles and miles until endless time-space - just stars. Circling each other, swirling, swelling and dying, and of course there’s the black hole, too, but that’s a given at this point.
But it’s still nice to sit here on the roof.
It’s just outside my bedroom - oh by the way, I have one of those in the castle, have I told you? A room all of my own, full of my joys and my sorrows and my secrets and my slumber. We can’t go inside, not together, but you can join me out here on the roof. I brought an extra blanket.
I feel sad tonight. I feel on the precipice of a great waiting. I don’t know what for, though I have some ideas. And waiting comes with a melancholy, a languishing sort of ennui. I do as much as I can in the meantime - there’s always something to do, of course, too much to do I would say - but that doesn’t actually make the waiiting stop. I don’t even know what for. A big and wonderful thing. A big and terrible thing. Or just a big thing.
Yes, I know it will be big. I know there is a change coming that will be earth-shaking. But I just don’t know what it is yet. It’s exciting too, in a way. But if there is no change at all, then, then, I think my heart will break.
No, forget I said that.
I will accept whatever comes, whether it is change or no change.
Is that the right way to go about it?
I’m not sure. I wasn’t sure, any way, so I made us a little story to try to find out.
[Music; a lamenting yet mischievous tune on piano]
Once upon a time, there was a strange and dark faerie creature who lived deep in the heart of a twisted and gnarled forest. She sat atop a very tall rock, and she, like me, waited.
She was born on this rock, as far as she knew. The rock had been there so long that vines had climbed up, up, up around it, and they knitted themselves into a fine green lace, and that lace formed itself into her gown and among her hair, and her skin seemed to just appear within it, and her eyes opened and though she wailed like an infant, her fully formed hands and claws found their way up to pull the green veil from her eyes so that she could see the brightness of the sun pealing in sharp points through the net of green and brown trees above her. Otherwise, it was quite dark here, so her skin and her eyes and her hair had become quite pale, pale like the grey stone on which she sat, only some speckled patches of her green and dark like the leaves and wood and shadows in this forest. The wood had found its way into her skull and her fingers and her spine and so she had horns and claws and a tail. She was born of this forest fully-formed and she grew to be like this forest; quiet and dangerous and waiting.
The woods whispered to her in the darkness of the night. Strange things that anyone else might be frightened by - but the truth was, the forest gave her life and so to her, its threats and taunts rang like a mother’s love in her ears:
[Back and forth between each ear:]
“You will grow, my sweet, alone and cold and strong as the rock on which you were born and which has borne you since”
“My cherished girl, you will be my guardian; you will be the one who travelers will be driven to rapture, to desire, to insanity alike by.”
“The sight of you will make children weep. The sight of you will make humans scream. The sight of you will make them believe in they devils they invented and the gods they betrayed.”
“You , my darling one, you will be alone here forever but for the
Lost souls who find themselves in your beauteous and hideous presence”
“You, my lovely one, you will be alone until they come to destroy you and then and only then will you come into your full power, my full power”
“I shall bestow it to you then. I shall inspire you with all the strange strength of my branches and vines and the wolves and the ravens and the toads and the foxes”
“I shall give you the strength to rise from this rock and descend”
“Descend upon them all in all of your ancient and newborn glory”
“Gloriously claiming whatever it is you desire”
“Desire it and it shall be yours, my lovely one”
“My wonderful and terrible child, you will have it”
“Have it finally, and all of your waiting and”
“all of your wanting will have not been
In vain. It is coming. They are coming. Do not be afraid.
Be strong.
Be ready.”
Night after night after night for year after year after year the voice whispered and her skin grew harder and harder and her horns grew longer and longer and her desire grew greater and greater. But she waited patiently as her gnarled and incorporeal mother whispered to her her decadent lullabies. They are coming. Do not be afraid. Be strong. Be ready. Oh, she was so ready. She was so ready for travelers to come upon her in the woods. She was ready to make them scream, make them laugh, make them weep in the insane sight of her. She revelled in her lovely ugliness, her horrible beauty.
For a time.
For a very long time.
[Distant chimes; like a bell, or a timer, far, far away]
When decades passed, her back started to ache as she sat on that rock.
When centuries passed, her eyes started to hurt as she watched for visitors.
When millenia passed, her heart began to question whether or not anyone was coming.
When she lost count of the years and mother had long ago stopped speaking to her, she questioned whether or not her memory of being born here and living here and waiting with the purpose of luring, frightening and enticing travelers had just been some kind of dream, some kind of lost madness of her own.
She was waiting, after all, to come into her power so that she could be free of this place, and have whatever it was she desired.
But all she desired was for a traveler to come and visit her. Anyone at all.
Perhaps the forest had created her just to keep it company. Because no one ever visited.
Could she create someone in turn?
No. She didn’t want to hurt anyone like this.
Her heart both hardened and softened to think of anyone else waiting for so long for no one to come.
The voice had told her to be true.
The voice had told her to wait dutifully.
The voice had told her to have faith.
But what about her own truth, duty, and faith? The truth, duty and faith owed to her? Sure, she was a creature of rotted and dangerous world, but if she didn’t honour herself, who else would?
The wolves? The ravens? The toads? The foxes? The vines? The rock?
The forest?
They had all left
She was alone
Her spine cracked and her horns broke off in odd places and her claws chipped and her green lace gown tore and she pried herself off that rock.
She climbed those vines down and down and down and felt grass under her freezing grey toes, and she found it to be soft.
The wind blew past her marbled hair and she found its silence much more comforting than the forest’s night whispers of her memory.
She took up a stone and though her long arms were weak from lack of use, she was an ancient thing with ancient strength and she successfully hurled it through the tapestry above her
And though the sun streaming in through the hole it made stung her eyes, she felt its warmth and it filled her with
Something
Perhaps it was
Hope
Perhaps it was
Passion
Perhaps it was
Inspiration
That’s it - the air she breathed in inspired her and encouraged her and inspirited her
You are on the right track
Go forth and travel
And find what it is you desire.
She moved slowly but surely, her feet stepping firmly as though she had to lift heavy rocks with every step, but her step grew lighter and lighter as she walked. She sang along with the breeze, she heard a music in the rustling. She hoped to leave the forest but it was so huge and so deep and so immense that it might have been years for all she knew that she travelled, but it was a light bunch of years compared to the ones she had spent on that rock.
One day, she happened upon a strange sight
[The ‘waiting chimes’ again, but with a deep and strange bass]
There was a huge rock before her, tall and large and grey and covered with moss and vines, but also strange blue flowers.
Seated atop it was a figure - it seemed to be a man, very very old, she could tell despite the smoothness of his stone-like face, his youthful expression, and the little blue flowers blooming in his hair which grew in a long tapestry of muddled brown, grey and blue all around him. His horns were not yet broken and they were perhaps a paler shade of wood than hers were, firmly set in his skull just the same, his nails long, his tail curling around the rock
He might have been even older than her
His eyes were wide open
As he too, waited for travelers to come by
So that he could enthrall them and derange them and terrify them
But all that happened was that he had sat there and grown to seem enthralling, deranged and terrifying, with his lovely flowers and wide frenzied eyes and sharp, decaying horns.
He sat still as stone. He was obeying Mother very perfectly.
When she walked towards him and into his line of view, however, he suddenly snapped his head in her direction, his eyes falling on hers
And when he saw that she was not one of these fabled, weak-willed, desirous human beings he had heard so much about, but rather, a creature much like him, his jaw fell open and a dusty sob choked out of his throat.
“Get up,” she called to him. “Get down from there.”
His spine cracked and his horns broke off in odd places and his claws chipped and his gown of vines and blue flowers tore and he pried himself off that rock without another moment’s hesitation.
And together they walked.
It’s a lovely night up here, isn’t it? Up here on this roof?
I’m not sure how long I’ve been waiting up here.
Some time, I think. It feels like ages. Probably has just been a few hours, though. Who knows.
Time passes excrutiatingly slowly when you are waiting for something you want to come to you. When you listen to whispers of others telling you what you ought to do and what you ought not. Being an obedient monster is an interminable kind of business, isn’t it?
But time also passes horrifically quickly when you are waiting for something you want to come to you. Years, decades, centuries, millenia can pass before you realize you have spent so long not fulfilling your wishes.
I suppose it’s easiest to not want anything at all, of course - probably that’s best, yes, I’m sure it is. But then, we wouldn’t be the lovely monstrous things we are, would we? We might as well be stone.
[Music; chimes, bass, piano, all together]
Look down there:
Do you see them?
There they are;
Dozens, maybe hundreds, maybe thousands or more, it’s hard to tell up here on the castle roof
Down below, they are marching out of the forgotten forest and towards the castle.
I don’t know if they know anyone’s here.
Hello, down there!
Wow, see all those pale stone-grey eyes looking up at us, reflecting in the moonlight?
Their jaws dropping open, the sobbing, dusty gasp as they see two monsters such as us, sitting up on the stone of the castle, our own little waiting-spot?
Some of them see the black hole above us and the stars around it or the stars being eaten by it
They do not seem afraid in the least.
When you wait for so long, so dutifully, so desperately, so painfully, there’s not very much to be afraid of, after long enough passes by.
Brave, lovely things.
Well, time to get up, I guess.
Go back inside.
Find something else I want to gaze upon, and create it.
What about you?
[Eerie theme music]
(Host speaks as Kristen:)
Hello my friends, thanks so much for listening to Episode 268 of On a Dark, Cold Night. This is your host, writer, monster, narrator, composer, and such, behind the podcast, Kristen Zaza. Thank you for joining me. For being with me. For listening to me.
Many many thanks as always are due to everyone who supports the show on patreon on a monthly basis, it truly means the world to me. On my patreon page, every supporter of $1 or more a month gets access to my complete soundtrack, while supporters of $5 or more a month (US) get that, a weekly bonus meditation episode (called my Quick Moments), and a monthly tarot reading video uploaded every full moon. To learn more, visit patreon.com/darkcoldnight. To donate one-time only without anny perks, visit ko-fi.com/darkcoldnight, and for just the quick moment meditations and other bonus sonar network content, you can subscribe to the Sonar+ apple podcast channel by searching for On a Dark, Cold Night on iTunes. You can also buy a t-shirt or hoodie at bonfire.com/on-a-dark-cold-night.
I’d also love if you left me a rating or a review on Spotify, Apple, Facebook, wherever else you like to do so, though Spotify would be really cool. You can also listen to my music on SPotify, my 2 albums “Favourite Little Songs from On a Dark, Cold Night” Volumes 1 and 2 are there, search for Kristen Zaza and you should find it .
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Thank you so much for listening, my friends.
If you, like me, also feel like you’re stuck in a kind of waiting-game, I hope you breathe through it and find your power too. I’ll be working on the same. It’s there, deep down. I believe we just need to Open the Door.
Lots of love to you my friends.
Sweet dreams.
[Eerie theme music]
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