How to be a Better Vampire.
Wednesday 10th of June 2020
Every meditation is different. I like that.
Today, near the end, I heard a fragment of something:
‘… get advice from more experienced vampires.’
And my first thought was:
Suggesting that I’m a vampire?
And unexpectedly, an answer came back:
‘That’s who you think you are.’
But, it didn’t feel as though it was being suggested in a bad way, it wasn’t negative. It was an explanation, a word to explain or used to figure something else out. So, let’s look it up.
Vampire:
a corpse that leaves its grave at night to drink the blood if the living.a person who preys on othersNeither of those sound particularly, nice.
a trapdoor used for sudden disappearances from a stage.Okay, that one does sound a little like something I do. I will just disappear if I decide to. But still, I’m more confused than ever.
Perhaps it was just a random thought, my mind did wander a lot today. Wander. I love the difference between wander and wonder, and their closeness. It annoys me when people mock others when they confuse the two. Let the two words be interchangeable, there’s a beauty in it, a poetry. Besides mocking people for their mistakes is just… low class. I may or may not be talking about a specific YouTuber who has done this unnecessarily on multiple occasions. I don’t care if it’s an ‘in’ joke, it’s just low.
Anyway, shall we get back to the meditation?
In the Moon Forest there was a broken pen, a fountain pen that had been split into several pieces. There were four books surrounding the shards, but you only need to be aware of two at this present moment in time.
The Snow Spider by Jenny Nimmo
Snowbird Winter by Sue Welford
The Snow Spider was the first book I ever loved.
In primary school, the library would bring a selection of books for us to choose, once every two weeks, if memory serves. We could pick what we wanted then return the book to the wheely cart when it returned. Exciting times.
I loved this book so much even though it made me cry. I didn’t want to give it back.
My mum tried to find me my own copy, pre-internet. Unable to find it, she bought me, Snowbird Winter instead. Not the same by any stretch of the imagination, but not a terrible book. She did her best, that’s what the book now means to me. I still have it, and all the memories that come attached to it.
I wanted to bring the fountain pen back to life. I’ve always had one, until recently. The fountain pen is important to me, it’s craft, it’s care, it’s the symbolic pen of the writer, the modern day quill and ink. I don’t feel like a proper writer without one. I need to bring the pen back to life.
