I find it hard to explain the concept, but I've always felt that each season has its own color--a unique undertone, made up of memories from the past. As I've aged, I notice it even more. It's like falling leaves piling on the lawn, changing its complexion.
There are moments in our lives that leave impressions--like injuries that leave a scar, or tattoos that have personal meaning. This season last year left one of those impressions. A season of arrivals and departures, delays and missed connections. Twice around this time of year, I've had to end the life of something I loved. Putting down a dog is not all that different from putting a final end on a relationship. Love and hate both are difficult to kill. They are such base feelings, the two magnetic poles of our emotions.
Killing your hate is detoxifying. There are almost no situations in which you wouldn't want to kill your hate. Many of us can be drawn very strongly to it, even though it provides no benefit. Killing love is never something you actually want to do, but there are times when it makes you so ill that there is no other way to move forward. You realize that the grief is necessary; you can't put it off any longer. Soon, indifference become your default state. Instead of turning love into hate, you throw it into the void of indifference, where it fades to black.
Being free of this illness is a motivating force. At this time of year, I remember many endings and beginnings. Heights of anxiety, excitement, love, and pain. These memories all color the season. They don't live in the present, but there are echos of certain moments. For a brief moment, you can find yourself there again. Then, you paint over it.
I suppose this is my first post on Neocities. Very intrigued by this site--it appears to combine the best of the early web, with some of the social features of Web 2.0 and none of the Web 3.0 garbage.
My domain thebackground.org, which I originally bought in 2004 and reclaimed this year, has traditionally hosted my blog, beginning with a self-hosted site, then a Xanga (accompanied by podcasts of my college radio show on WGUR 88.5 FM), then a self-hosted WordPress on which I often shared live recordings from some of my favorite bands.
I'm not entirely sure what I plan to do with this space currently, but in the coming year, I would love to get back into radio, write with purpose, and make an effort to find the corners of the Internet that are truly fulfilling and largely absent of enshittification and toxicity.
2024 has been a milestone year for me. I turned 40, found new love, said "yes" to more things without my usual anxiety and trepidation, and attended more shows in one year than I ever have.
My twenties were characterized by new friends, idealistic love, and taking ownership of my path in life, and my thirties were the years that brought an abrupt end to that romanticism. While difficult at first, I no longer see that ending as a bad thing. It has not made me cynical. I still find a lot to love in ordinary moments, but I no longer live by the illusion that life's path is entirely under my control. Killing these illusions has led me to greater truths and helped me see through the bullshit. I'm much more adept at seeing the difference between real love and fake love, recognizing hypocrisy and false doctrines, and being genuine without fear.
That's the best thing about turning 40--I give much less of a fuck about what other people think about me. (Still a little bit of a fuck, though. Maybe I'll shake it all off when I'm 50.) I'm certainly not under the illusion that I know everything. I know I have a lot of room for improvement, and I could very well be wrong about a lot. But I'm no longer under the illusion that my best years are behind me.
Nostalgia and idealizing the past too often can make you put life on pause, because you don't want to lose the feelings you had. But the reality is, each minute that passes without growth is another loss, and pausing is impossible. Our lives autoscroll through moments at a pace we cannot control. Letting it happen, and giving up your illusion of control, is immensely liberating.