June 11th, 2020 - 2:19 a.m.
up all night. got demons to fight.
and even if some nights have been like this for a while, and even if some nights will be like this going forward
things will keep working out.
It's a little strange looking at this site. Most of the people I followed no longer use it, probably haven't since the early-to-mid-2010s. Forgotten journals and scrapbooks left behind by old friends and strangers admired from afar. Feels like Scrooge looking at his younger self, watching the past replay in front of him.
It feels like I'm walking around my old church, no signs of disrepair, but empty, lights unlit. Besides myself, no human life, like our young ideas of fueled by the adults around us and terrible Evangelical made-for-TV movies. Knowing full well that I'm alone, but still seeing memories play out throughout the building. Not seeing ghosts, per se, but echos of life.
When I read these posts, the journals and reblogs of myself or my friends, those echos come. When I have a night like this one, I dig deeper onto the pages, the echos grow into a chorus. A cacophony. The past becomes a specter. And the past can't pierce or bludgeon, but it will bleed me all the same.
Coincidentally, I will be attending a wedding later in the year, and it will be at my old church. I will be traveling with my partner (my girlfriend, who I share the same first name with), but I will not have a plus one. When we visited last year for another wedding, we attended together, so I had a sort of security blanket in her company. But the idea of facing my past, alone, in all of its joys and sorrows, has terrified me, even if it is just for a few hours.
And instead of just being a tab on my browser I could open and close, that idea is turning into an inevitability.
yousharknotpass
turnnoffyourmind
jbbartram-illu
kaledo-art
izzy806
tangentwithtanner
