🕯️ Journal Entry #002: When the Realm Breathes Back October 31 – Written from the Garage by One Bad Maa The Realm’s been different tonight. You can feel it before you even flip the switch, a pulse, slow and heavy, like the walls are holding their breath. The kind of silence that hums in your teeth before it breaks. I should’ve gone inside hours ago, but I couldn’t. The air’s too thick with something I can’t name. The candle won’t stay still; the flame keeps bowing toward the workbench, like it’s listening. They say Halloween thins the veil;
Tag: garage poetry
🛠️ Built From the Bolt Up Straight From Rebel’s Journal The hum of the grinder is the closest thing I’ve ever heard to prayer. Sparks fly like tiny, furious stars, and I can’t help but think, this is what starting over really sounds like. Not quiet. Not graceful. It’s noise and heat and the stubborn decision to make something out of all the busted-up pieces. People talk about rebuilding like it’s some tidy thing, a little reflection, a little healing, and suddenly you’re polished chrome again. But anyone who’s ever built a bike from scratch knows you start with