Hello, my name is Moxie and I like to Poke bears.
(Hi, Moxie!)
This month I opened up that dusty wardrobe again for the first time in nearly a year. The first snow of the year does something to my heart. I wanted to do some exploring again. I missed the opportunity to take it all in last year when I decided that the risk wasn't worth the reward.
What led me to open the door again? What change happened inside me? Was it loneliness? Was it yearning?
No. More than likely, it was a need to rationalize my behavior. Of course I want to find like-minded individuals. See, people like me and (possibly) you, we can sing our song, quietly, privately, and let wave after wave of sadness, madness, and general bat-shittery wash us and feel refreshed.
But when I share my song with others, I cannot convey the intrinsic purpose of its seemingly woe-filled meaning.
The somber beauty of a tear holds more magic than any forced smile. Whimpers and sighs carry the song of a heart that understands the world for more than it presents in the daylight.
Save your smiles for the summer. Here, when the days grow short and the cold creeps in the warmth can be truly celebrated.
I'll eat my Turkish Delight, study the old magic, and indulge in the frost glazed windows. I'll clean my palace of the trite and superficial.
Shit. Maybe I do need to lighten up, just enough to remember why I love this so much. If you need me, I'll be reading.
Welcome home, Bingo Pajama.
