It gets so dark so fast these days.
I come home to dark. Carson will go off to drill this weekend and it will be my first time alone in my new place, really. After 32 people filed in and out, in and out for a weekend.
The cool thing about meeting noders in person is that, often, you hadn't paid a lot of attention to each other, but after you meet, and put a face and voice to names, you find yourself seeking out their words when they leave you. I am finding all these cool things they have said.
I will not go home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. There must be something wrong because I don't seem to care. But, then, if I didn't care at all, I wouldn't mention it at all, would I?
There are homeless kids living in the abandoned building next to me, a building my landlord says "we own." She tells me to call the police if I see them, two scraggly white boys with brown clothes that have become brown, but were likely another color. She tells me she spoke to a shelter coordinator and he said they are likely guys he knows, that he sees them during the day but has no room for them at night. I can't bring myself to sick the cops on them. If I had food, I would fight the urge to leave little baskets out for them. Yes, I know, I want to take care of the world. My world just seems to small in comparison.
I got the pictures back from this weekend, and even now it seems so long ago, time pressed into time like colors mixing. And all the awkward thoughts: no I haven't read that book, never heard of that movie, have no idea what these terms are you're using, and pleasepleaseplease have something in common with me so we can have something to talk about.
Halloween is tomorrow, and it should be fun, but it's not, not around here. I can feel it, because I believe something different. I am no fool; I know there are powers out there and that they are strong and they may not like me (they also may not care either way). I am staying home. One year, I went out into the Quarter looking for a friend who should have been with us but wandered off. Walking down Decatur was like getting lost in a cave; I could feel the snaps of the open and closing mouths of monsters. They knew I was not one of them. Hard to explain, but that's as clear as I get.