20
Apr
09

Grinning white teeth have been following me for days

I’m not sure why, or where he came from, but he’s been at my side, creeping closer and closer with every moment. Last Monday I told Brett there was no moment of perfect spirituality, no epiphany that shook me to my core. I told him I was a little shocked, that I found it odd that when others found faith in emotional destitution I had nothing. Yes, well wishers were there to help me through. Some with copious amounts of insight, others just checking to see if I was ok. But days later he began appearing in my thoughts.

First it was an idea for my next tattoo. I had thought the top hat and the grinning skull would be something to remind me about finality, something to keep me from going too far. I thought it’d look cool, and might be a nice conversation piece. Suddenly he appeared in my day dreams. Always grinning.

I had Melly do a reading this past week. I’ve done it sporatically from time to time for years now, and I enjoy the insight it brings. Always a starter, allowing me to explore feelings and thoughts I normally hide. I’ve never held much stock in the supernatural or fortune telling beyond a somewhat academic curiosity. However, each of those readings was a  way for Melly and I to connect, and talk about things I didn’t normally want to talk about. Of course, the readings are never more than what you’re already thinking about. They just bring those thoughts to the forefront, breaking past concious barriers. However, it’s always fun to see what comes up, and there was a common theme – rebirth.

He’s all about resurrection and rebirth. Being the man who decides who comes and who goes, he has a special dominion over letting people pass, a uniquely American Charon. There are similarities between us, as well. Superficial (love of tobacco,) and in personality (swearing, humor.)

Melly says he’s standing next to me. As La Croix, reminding me to live happy and well. As Cimetèire, reminding me of what always comes. As Samedi, watching as I’m reborn. Slowly insinuating himself in every facet of my waking life, appearing in the novel briefly, but never in my dreams, never directly to me.

Maybe I need to invest in some rum and cigars.

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Mike Black is…

A writer, reader, commentator, music lover, art lover, futurist, tech lover, pragmatist, romantic, DepDecoist, and a bastard. Hopefully you enjoy.

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