I’m not superstitious, but I’ll never walk under a ladder or open an umbrella indoors anyway. A handful of personal old wives tales I live my life by for no other reason than habit, or some secret and unreasonable belief in them I would never share out loud or admit to. Like believing in ghost, or thinking that sex is stupid.
One of my stupid beliefs that are stupid and I still believe in is the power of silence. It stands opposite of The Secret, which I’m told is something along the lines of saying out loud what you want to do wills it closer. Perhaps it’s the pessimist in me, but I think the opposite. I feel it invites disaster, reproachful eyes, and gaudy instigators. All of my best plans are my best kept secrets, and only when they’re achieved will anyone know an ounce of it.
This new endeavor I’m embarking on is quite dangerous, and in all consideration, a drastic threat to my life and liberty. It has me oddly wistful and reflective, which, according to all the literature I’ve read, is definitely a sign of something terrible to come. ‘You always think about the beginning near the end,’ I think Junot Diaz said, and if this is all for me, it’s only proper I do my due diligence. And if it isn’t, and I come back home safe and sound, well then it’s a fun exercise determining what my final words would be.
What’s strange is that I don’t have any pretty phrases in my heart right now, only people. Names that make my chest sing and sigh happily at their memory. Ernesto, Michael, Juan, Nick, Kevin. Tiffany, Shiela, Z, Christian, May. Even Elis. Even Pastormike, who was always so kind and supportive, I think about now. And I don’t believe in regrets, but if I had to have one, it would be never being able to prose some kind of homage to the man I never quite showed enough appreciation for.
There is, I know, a lot of pain and darkness behind us also, but for some strange reason, all I can see is the sunshine. I’ve loved, love, and will love all of these people, indefinitely. Even In the nether of inexistence my love will persist, if not in spirit, then in these words. And just like that, I render death useless, because now, we are all infinite.
Take care, strangers, and don’t ever let your care be taken.