Although I have a hard time identifying with any belief system, one’s actions can sometimes categorize one’s self into certain identities. With that said, I guess I’m fairly pagan–as wonderfully nebulous as that is.
I celebrate the solstices and equinoxes. They designate important time periods in my part of the world, and are particularly important as mile posts for the waxing & waning of the unfortunate side effect of northern latitudes: seasonal affective disorder.
That’s not a blanket side effect for everyone on the forehead of the planet. But it sure fucks with me. After floundering for too many years, I have found that observing the points where the sunlight increases or decreases is one small way to acknowledge the cycle.
That way, no surprises. The merry-go-round is there for all to see.
Unfortunately, I was born with a ticket and can’t get off. The freewriting piece below is awkward & unsettling & dizzying, kind of like a merry-go-round. It’s an older piece, but from the same period to come, between the fall equinox and the winter solstice. I don’t think it offers much hope, which is why I felt the need for this preamble.
—And can’t you go for a week without? Look at what you’re doing to yourself—
<<Doing? That’s exactly it, hun. I’m doing>>
—You’re doing nothing—
<<You’re doing nothing>>
—That’s exactly it, hun. I’m doing—
<<What are we doing here?>>
—We’re here again. You ever wonder if it has anything to do with a gain?—
<<It sounds more like a loss. To be anywhere again is only retracing your steps>>
—Unless you took a new way. What are we doing here again?—
<<I wish I knew. You’re no help>>
—No help is right. Look at what we’re doing to ourselves—
<<This is confusing>>
—That’s right. I’m doing—
<<You’re doing it again. We’re here>>
—And can’t you go a week without reminding me? Listen to yourself—
<<I feel it all over again. We’re here again>>
—God fuck it. Krishna suck it. Devil may share. Damn us all to earth for a thousand lifetimes—
<<And you would still just come back here>>
—Probably. I can’t go a week without—
<<What does it taste like?>>
—It tastes like we’re here again. I feel it in every nerve—
<<Must be close>>
—Must be doing nothing—
<<Unless you took a new way>>
—Naw, fuck it. You know it. There is no other way—
<<Did you just feel that?>>
—I think that’s the point—
<<No, it wasn’t sharp. It was full-bodied>>
—Why don’t we forget about it all and get a bottle of Malbec? —
<<Why don’t we just enjoy the tilt of the earth for once?>>
—You know there is no other way—
<<There must be another way around it>>
—Oh sure, we can circle it all day, but we’re just going to up here—
—You’re doing it again—
<<That’s exactly it, hun. I’m doing>>