Writer. Opinions are my own. https://ko-fi.com/conormatthews
The Trees Swallow People: Part 14
It's Christmas in a few days, and understandably there's an unease about it. There's an odd feeling of shame intermingled with determined jovial spirits. There are fewer houses than ever decorated (many are without the excuse of being abandoned), yet of those that are, they appear more festive than in previous years. Interestingly, many of the ones I know lie empty are decorated, draped in lights hanging from the gutters, windows frosted in mock-snow from a spray can, and, perhaps a little morbidly given everything, a tree dressed in baubles and lights. Fake trees, obviously, but you wouldn't blame people for breaking from tradition.
The Trees Swallow People: Part 13
I don't know if I believe in anything after death. I think there's something, like a god or something, but not in the “God” sense. I can imagine people going to Heaven, but never myself. I don't think I don't deserve it, I just can't see myself in Heaven, no more than I can see myself in space; I can visualise it, but I'm left wondering where the punch-line is . Thanatophobia; that's what I have. I'm not going to Hell and that scares me. I know it must seem strange; there are trees driving people mad, killing them, driving them to suicide, yet I can't bring myself to believe in an afterlife? Yes. Faith, even in nothing, isn't rational.
Rich =/= Right
I have a guilty pleasure. It’s looking up houses I’ll never afford. The million dollar homes, the five million pound manors, the thirty million euro estates. I’ve noticed a common thread between all of them; no taste. Often garishly ornate with gold this and crystal that, with simpering appeals to aristocracy, it’s what people think you’re supposed to like when you’re rich. New Money pretending it’s Old Money, hoping to impress someone.