along with daylight savings time came unnecessarily early sunsets here in the twin cities. i leave my ne minneapolis office at 4:30 pm, and by the then the sun has already begun to set. which means i get to spend every waking moment of my free time in the dark. i can already tell its going to be a long winter.

i'm not afraid of too many [rational] things, but i'd say one thing that frightens me tremendously is the notion of having to make it through a long, dark night, knowing that salvation will come with dawn while having no sense of time. all you know is that it's dark, and that it's probably going to be dark for a while.

take the film the evil dead for example. all this crazy shit starts happening, meanwhile the clock is stuck at six something for the majority of the movie. it's dark and evil out, with little hope that things are going to get better, and it's six something the whole freaking time. strange that of all of the things about the film that could have scared me, i'm stuck on the fact that the hands on the clock wouldn't move.

perhaps this fear stems from my childhood. my mother is very religious, and didn't allow us to celebrate halloween. to the extreme of pulling us out of school for the day. i recall one year watching some pastor on tv rant about how he wanted us to pray for all of the human sacrifices that would take place that day. then he went on about a family or group of people who were supposedly harassed all night by a group of witches marching around their house. fast forward to me falling asleep on the couch. i guess my parents didn't feel the need to put me to bed, so i slept there all night. well, that was until i woke up in the dead dark, to the sound of witches marching around my house. not just a few, mind you, but hoards of black-cloaked, sacrifice-hungry witches marching in consistent circles, their pertinent footsteps echoing through my terrified, still innocent ears. they marched and marched for seconds, minutes, hours? i wasn't sure because i couldn't see the clock through the dark. the clock. and that's when it donned on me, after hiding under a blanket that whole time, ready to pee my pants at any moment, that it wasn't a hoard of witches at all. but instead a mother f-ing clock.

even the fake glow of the city isn't enough to make up for the sun. i suppose i don't have anything better to do than stay home and write anyway, but some natural light once in a while would still be nice. guess all i can do now is get some words on paper, and hope that soon enough winter will end.