i 'd rather be camping

Oct 10

You may be visited by three unseasonal ghosts. 

The first ghost is guilt. Shifting, shifty. It arrives without ritual, can hardly be said to have arrived: it’s there, though, shimmering but unmistakable. (Shimmering — It’s a mirage, or a flickering lightbulb, or heat lines over the asphalt. Subtle, but oh it draws the eye.) It asks, what have you forgotten, because you cared too much about poetry? It prompts, make the phone call that will never be answered again. It never lies. It is always on time. Not like you, not like you, not like you.  

The second ghost is the ghost of tedious dreaming. To summon the ghost of tedious dreams you need only to have one, and to talk about it. When you open your mouth the ghost will walk out over your teeth and cast an invisibility spell on the room. We were in a casino, but it was like a megastore, and a mall, and there were these hallways, and I forgot my wallet somewhere. I think it was a work trip? It feeds on the memory of playing make-believe, and other people’s word counts. 

The last ghost is the one you refuse to name. To call it you should imagine a hand on the back of your neck, a thumb passing between the base of your occipital bone and the back of your jaw. (Try to do this in a well-ventilated area, as this ghost is large and occasionally stifling.) When it appears it will ask you for its name. I know, it will taunt you. I know, I know, I know. This is known as howling, and is as ordinary and as meaningless as birdsong. 

(An alternative to this last spell is to trail your fingertips along your inner forearm and to think, resolutely, of no one.)

You think I'd leave your side, baby You know me better than that

Witch of the Wilds

Stillness

“whispers” 🖤