Darkness in anticlimatic

Drove to work this morning completely in the pre-dawn dark, though dark blue was creeping over the black by the time I rolled past the church into town. I was feeling a bit uneasy with it. Something always unsettling this time of year. I think when I was a kid I had a habit of doing something extra horrific during holiday break, and would end up suffering some kind of shame and punishment, so now I have this seasonal dread creep over me as an aftershock to the poor decisions of my youth.

The problem is that the ledge of reality is a hard place to talk oneself down from. Horror movie sequels imitate life in at least one terrible way- no matter what kind of happy ending or resolution one has to their own personal narrative, nothing will really stop the world from unceremoniously killing them off in some horrible way at the beginning of someone else’s story.

I was watching a bit of Serendipity yesterday, looking at a young(ish) John Cusak making romantic eyes and conversation at a young(ish) Kate Beckinsale, lost in this cute little 90s rom-com narrative, as though they weren’t about to blink and be withered, old, and 100% yesterday’s news, senile, and forgotten to one another.

Outside the vultures wheel
The wolves howl, the serpents hiss
And to extend this small favor, friend
Would be the sum of earthly bliss
Do you reckon me a friend?
The sun to me is dark
And silent as the moon
Do you, sir, have a room?
Are you beckoning me in?
Hit it!