writing – Page 6

ghost towns that sell honey

That’s not an offer for sale. That’s a request.

Even the oldest creatures of our ‘verse sometimes need help with the harvest. It’s hard work and they’re not used to it. But if you push up your sleeves and approach the golden chickens gently, run your hand along the moon cow’s fur, they will not hurt you. If you show them the way, without mocking their abyss-deep voice, without flinching at their hundred eyes and the long claws, you will walk away with more than honey and eggs. They are peaceful, tired after millenia of war against things we never learned the names of because they were defeated before we knew they existed.

So if you are kind, they will make sure that you never go unfed, never without warmth, and always find something sweet in your pockets. They are fond, these giants, of small things like us, young souls like ours. So if someone threatens harm to yours, the wrath of a monster that has experienced kindness will find them.

Source: goldenprairies

Sometimes when people say “you shouldn’t hold grudges”, it actually means “you should let the person do it again” and believe me when I say that you may stab me once but I would rather take the dagger from your hands that I already forgot the scars of and ride into the horizon on a horse named Never towards a nameless land than let you cut my bread at my breakfast table when I’m sleep-drunk and warm ever again.

When someone I trust – and who trusts me – rests their head on my shoulder, their world may tilt, but mine gains a little bit of its lost balance back.

Something is always going to happen. No matter what went on before. No matter what will go on after. Isn’t that terrifying? Isn’t that beautiful?

All I do these days is write and hold onto hope.

The world is wicked anyways, so why aren’t you too?

Happy new one and a rise

Of glass and hope to the run

Of twelve wilder, dream-full moons

That bring word: our time has come

Education, learned skills and books will never leave you, lose their patience or stab you behind your old high school on a blue winter night with the pencil you once lost and never found again.

The new year will be the year of walking into fairy circles, smiling at glowing red eyes in corn fields, leaving flower crowns on gravestones, befriending every eerily unblinking cat and generally exposing yourself to every slightly surreal seeming phenomenon because we have nothing to lose and eldritch beings to gain as friends.

To me, food and clothes (especially when handmade) will always carry one of the simplest yet infinitely pure and kind intentions that humans can offer in a world as terrible as ours can be:

Here, please be warm and alright and enjoy this if only a little.