Boom. It's open. Halloween seems to start earlier and earlier each year. The series of events are, I get older on the 15th of August, schools open, and then Halloween stores open. That's like an Oreo cookie of events, filled with rotten creme.
I didn't take many pictures inside that mysterious store. I currently know what's inside, but in a few weeks, since I'm old, I'll probably forget. At this moment, I can walk my mind down the rows of costumes, see the Minecraft swords, the naughty and humorous costumes. But not you, my dear non-existent reader. So allow me to describe.
Notice the inviting darkness just beyond that open door. The floor gives way to a ledge, overlooking several floors of Halloween props and costumes sunken into the ground. This stone building is merely a prop itself. A circular stair spirals down the many floors. In the center of the gap between the stairs is a waterfall of blood. Chains hang under the stairs like strands of moss. Ghosts, of the sheet-with-eye-holes variety, haunt and hover about. Some restock merchandise. Most are slackers. Light doesn't reach all the isles. Some feature only sinister looking shadows. I didn't go down those.
Resenting youth. It doesn't make sense to resent anyone, so why would I resent youth? Oh yeah, hi, this is a transition. I'm dating, long distance dating, a very young girl. Legal - 19 - but for my 40 year old ass, that's insane. I can barely remember 19. I remember being stupid in love with some two idiots and one girl who shattered my soul and from the pieces I built what I am today. I don't want to do that to her. 19, though. She hasn't really lived that long. She's far from the newborns my brother now welcomes into the world, but equally as far from a miserable, beaten, tired, death-obsessed me. You'd think that would make her appealing. She's not bitter and her love of life should be contagious. But I currently resent that - and that resentment is stupid.
I explained to her that I'm selfish and envy her for having twenty years on me - that'll be twenty years longer she can enjoy than me. After I croak, she'll have a good portion of her life left. I want that! Sure, its silly, but I do. I'm obsessed with death and I feel like I'm doing everything I can to stop the rollercoaster as it teeters at the top of the hill about to plunge down. Rollercoasters are supposed to be fun. I'm supposed to accept the inevitable and enjoy the ride, but I don't. I am terrified of things ending. Shit, certain television shows (see Monarch of the Glen) and comics (Sandman) and video games (Red Dead Redemption), I've avoided finishing because I don't want them to end. So of course I'd be resentful of this pretty young girl and all her life left. She's a firm grape, I'm raisining.
But that's stupid. I never used to resent rich or famous people. In high school, I wouldn't resent the popular kids - because they weren't me. They didn't have the gifts I had nor the life I lived. I've become resentful of a lot of things lately. Some friends with their beautiful, rich, family filled lives. Others who are just as creative, but young and ambitious and motivated. But I've got a handful of accolades to show for my 40 years of life, a crap load of unfinished stories, and overall a lot of work left to get done. If I keep spending time bemoaning my envy, I'll never get it done.
Back to horror. I'm going to make this quick.
It took far too long to fix that picture. This stupid blog wanted to feature it on its side. But yeah, oh crap! She looks just like a prop, doesn't she? Not a prop. Her name was Witchelda. Nice woman. She speaks with that constant, wicked snear on her face; that's off-putting. Other than that, very helpful. Poor woman. Imagine suffering from that as a child. In school, the kids were surely cruel. Hell, little bastards will mock you for having a perfectly normal name; they'll twist it into the subject of a mean rhyme. Timmy Whimmy, Timmy Whimmy. I never heard that nor do I see how that would be particularly offensive, but its the intention and delivery that matters.
Last thing. This is from the same store. Not very helpful, this guy.
Okay. I'm out. Write back soon.
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