I can't seem to understand the emptiness that I feel inside. I keep feeling that if only I could understand the cause, than I could cure it, yet anytime I start to close in on the source, I realize that it's nothing more than a symptom. The hollowness inside me is so much deep and all consuming than I could ever hope to understand, yet I press onward. To do otherwise would court defeat. I do not like to lose. Giving up does nothing for me, in fact, it only makes this feeling worse and that is the last thing I need. 

So what do I need? If I knew that, I would no longer feel this way. I would once again be myself. I long to once again be myself. The only hope I have, is that as covid starts to fade and I start to reenter the world, some of the old me may return as well. I've started going back to different sets, working on different projects. None of them narratives, which is what I love more than life itself, but it's still good to be back behind the camera. Back in the world of creating. I need to return to creating content for Blueroof Productions. I am wasting this gift that is life, waiting for a feeling of normalcy that may never come.  

I can no longer afford to wait. I can no longer sit on my hands and let this feeling of defeat control me. I have to force myself into action, force myself to once again feel human. To once again bring my art to life and enjoy the world. Otherwise, what is the point of being alive? 

I will find the old Jonathan, and bring him back to this world. I will find the old me and once more enjoy the day to day journey that I am on. I will no longer sit and feel sorry for myself. I will no longer let the pit in my soul control me. I will conquer this sense of doom and provide the hope that I am missing. 

I'm going to take it one day at a time, one task at a time. I will be better. I will force my dreams into reality and live the life I have always dreamed of. Reality be damned. ​

A gang of vampires come to Halts Glee looking for the Dreamer’s Chest. 

​It's been 3 days since we've last had power. Each day growing colder and colder. The snow piling up outside, trapping us in this icebox that was once a home. I've long since stopped keeping track of the time, or any hope of salvation. The phones cut off not long after the electricity, and with them, any hope we had of contact with the outside world. If there is still an outside world. Is any place safe from this apocalyptic doom that has encased us? I fear that I am nothing more than a frozen corpse that has yet to learn it's place. My hands and feet, despite being wrapped up, nice and snug, have started to grow numb. My eyes glass over as I glaze out the window, hoping beyond hope that a miracle will happen, all the while knowing that it won't. This is how it ends. Neither glorious or even dignified. It's an end that I would never have wished on another soul, yet it is the one I am cursed with. I lay myself down, cross my arms over my chest, and take one last look around, letting the setting of my end solidify in my mind's eye. I'm ready to toss aside the mortal coil and be at peace in my frozen prison, yet just as my eyes close for the final time I hear the rumble of the heater. Warmth returns to this desolate wasteland, filling me with a hope that long since departed. For the first time in days I feel myself coming alive. It is only then that I realize that it has only been a handful of hours since this all started, rather than days. 

A young man, in need of money takes a job as a grave robber, only the body they steal isn't as dead as they originally believed. ​