Closer to the past

When there is no future to be seen anymore, let‘s drown in pretty castles, and oh! – Those dresses!

Before I started this blog, I was mostly writing science fiction. I never shared any of it anywhere. In my head, I was building worlds with cities made of towers in the clouds under a violet sky and I was thinking in long timelines of disasters with inspiring solutions. For very long, I have not been able to think like this anymore. There simply is no solution, there is just existing from day to day, and in my case, cursing everything that ever was and never got to be.

When there is absolutely no future to pursue, it was easier to look into the past, so here I am collecting moments that made me feel closer with this past. Closer to my witch, and to her life in pretty dresses and full of unfulfilled love.

One those moments just happened lately, when I was coming home from work late in the evening and it was already dark outside. I was wearing a long skirt and my massive boots which barely showed themselves under the violet masses of fabric flowing around me, and I was walking across a dark and old market place with no lanterns, just Christmas decorations in the distance. My steps were echoing in the darkness, my skirt was long and soft, and there I felt the tale of my witch all around me. The hope for better days, and each day the surprise of still waking up once more.
That is what the past feels and somehow this feeling has found its way into the present.

Another moment arrived when I opened the letter box one morning, to find a letter from distant family members in there, informing of the death of just another family member I had not seen for too long. This was no one close to me, so I was not as devastated as I had been with all the deaths before, but I stood there in the cold for a moment and took a deep breath while everything is spiraling out of control again, and I was thinking about the last time I had seen that person, and it seemed like from another world.

After those days when finally beginning the nights that are still mostly sleepless, I sometimes dream of all those people not here anymore, and I dress up as if the one or the other person were and I put flowers in my hair, wishing to fit the picture frame they liked me in once more, only to realize that things are over and the time for new things to start has not come yet.
And then I have a particular dress I like to wear for a very particular daydream that is another issue, but it’s like standing by the window of a house locked and left for everyone inside to die and take hell with them and being the last one alive standing by the window, whispering:
“I love you.”
“Oh please be back in time!”
“Save me, Daddy!”

“Really?”, my witch interrupts coughing into her bottle of wine. “Does it have to be Daddy again?”

For me, it‘s not the time to dream of violet skies and miracles to take place. It‘s still time to survive and it‘s still fucking hard, so my thoughts are closer to the past and to my witch, because she survived so much more then this for the most part of her dramatic life. And to remind myself of this, I wear long and dramatic dresses, listen to Baroque music wherever I go and everything is covered in roses and rain drops.

I write historical fiction, which means I throw my heart out the window and I sit in its frame and wait for better days.
“And apparently it means to be ghosted in a world full of mass graves”, my witch giggles next to me.

As I said, I feel so much closer to the past now.
And since I cannot write make sense of the future anymore, I write at least a few lines for one of my projects, hoping that this one will make sense of it all in the end.