casper [at] the roses.
Chapter 2: There are times when I think about going somewhere new, somewhere I’ve never been before where I can learn to write again...
But if I left Brooklyn, I wouldn’t be able to drink at The Roses every day.
Whole lifetimes passed of barely being there, I was a flimsy ghost determined by the things around me, until now this flash of anamnesis. Not remembering but forgetting a little less how we’d always been together…our graves side by side on several continents.
sync don't swim
There’s not enough to drink that will make me forget what’s happening, it’s only when I’m with Odious that I feel calm, because I’m so focused on the unique feel of everything that happens in their presence that I forget to obsess about my own thoughts for a while.
At the end of 2020 Odious and I were in a holding pattern. Unusual, and possibly extraordinary things had happened, but there was no way to know what, if anything, any of it meant...
Nosferatu in Venice
I saved the file and went for a walk, as this often helps stave off the anxious feels whenever they start bubbling up. This time, however, going out only made it worse, edging me towards straight up panic attack territory for the first time in a while.
Was the jar’s contents the work of a demon--the same demon of the night who infected our sleep with terror filled visions?