Albert Einstein said that “Time is an illusion.” I’m beginning to think he was on to something. Time seems to be speeding by at warp factor 9 these days. It’s nearly Halloween. Wasn’t it just August five minutes ago? I honestly feel like I am standing still, and the entire world is racing by me like some bad 80s montage. How do I stop this crazy ride for a moment so I can breathe?
November brings the hope that I will finally finish and release my dark poetry collection. I’ve been working on this book far longer than any of my others. Poetry is just…different. My head is full of scary stories, but poems take a little more crafting and coaxing to get them just right. I am almost glad that I didn’t have it ready for a spooky October release. This book will be dark, yes; but it is not just spooky material. It is deeper than that, so I feel a November release is more fitting. Many people view the end of the year as a bleak, sad time, so why not have a dark poetry book to go with it?
Fall is in full swing, and we are barreling towards winter at a hasty clip. The air is getting cooler, the bugs have gone back to hell where they belong, and Death is slowly painting the landscape in hues of red, yellow, orange, and eventually brown. I wrote a pretty cool post about this last year, you can check that out here if you want: We Dance With Death, But Dare Not Ask Its Name. I must say, I was quite proud of that post. Do you enjoy winter? I do. I thrive in the cold, bleak, barren version of nature. True, the world is beautiful when everything is in full bloom; I just appreciate the beauty of simplicity much more. Beauty itself is temporary. I feel the world is in its purest form in the winter. Only the strong, sturdy parts of it survive. Everything gets back to basics. Nature hits the reset button, and we get to see the Earth before it becomes draped in the fleeting glitz and glamor of Spring.
I’m not one for glitz and glamor, myself. I prefer things simple. I was never the girl that wanted to have her nails done, her hair fixed, or slather on a coat of makeup before venturing into public. I mean, I do put effort into looking presentable; I’m not out here looking like a haggard bog troll or anything. I just never gravitated towards extra shit. Moisturizer on the face; black eyeliner; hair either straightened, naturally wavy, or up in a clip; nails neatly filed, but just long enough to be able to scratch an itch (how people function with those long fucking nails is utterly beyond me); if it takes more than five minutes for me to be ready to leave the cemetery, I’m doing it wrong.
Yeah, definitely not a flashy person. I enjoy my simplicity and anonymity. I blend in when I am in a crowd. I don’t see that as a negative thing. I enjoy a sense of stealth when amongst the masses. Saves me from annoying small talk and unnecessary interactions. You can take the introvert out of the cemetery, but you can’t make her social. Anyway, I began this post whining about the passage of time and ended up talking about myself. What the actual fuck? Sorry about that. Thanks for not leaving. If you are in the US, enjoy this time of passage from Fall to Winter. If you’re elsewhere, try to find joy in whatever season you’re currently experiencing. Remember, no matter where you are, you are only a low AC setting away from sweater weather and a cozy day. Crank that sucker down, close the curtains so it seems dreary, put on some rain sounds, grab a fluffy blanket, and pretend. You’ll feel spooky, snug, and comfortable. Or at least, I would. Maybe you will, too.
Until next time…
Dancing Among the Remains 