Episode 265: But I Am A Book
March 19th, 2024
Kristen Zaza
[Eerie Theme Music.]
[Kristen:]
Hi. It’s me again.
Back to earth, back to earth (I think).
That’s where we left off, isn’t it?
That’s where these always go when I’m preparing to start beginning to make way for the end
Back to earth
Because there’s no escaping what we are, what we have decided to become.
Here we are.
Back to earth, where
I blow through the trees as a whispering wind
I wail through the big cracks between concrete buildings like an invisible banshee
I scream like the unexpected snowstorm in Spring
Just kidding, I’m just Kristen.
I’ve been working on something else.
My mind is wandering from where it’s been for the last six years. I crave the silence of a blank page and the image of letters scattering frantically across it. I type type type and I see my stories before me in characters quiet as a breath. I love this, this part, this most torturous part where I sit with my legs crossed and my back crooked but I type type type the things that come in and out of my mind and when it feels really really good, through my open heart
That’s what I’m looking for
That’s where I’m longing to stay
Even this voice is becoming too much, too performative, too self involved
Silence is what I’m searching for.
There are books and books and books within me
I’m working on them
But I need time and space
Away from
Her
[Humming, a sad theme]
She came to me six years ago
She waited by my bedroom door, in the shadows at night
Each night, creeping closer and closer and closer
Until she stood by my bedside
Smiling
Her eyes black
Her teeth multitudinous
Her touch gentle
And cold.
Oh well. All things must end. If anyone understands, I think she does.
I’ve been working on something else. Maybe ill-advised, because I have to finish this first. It’s important to finish what you begin. I began On a Dark, Cold Night six years ago, more than that now, and I have to finish it. I want to finish it. I love it, but I will love finishing it.
But my heart is aching to turn to other things.
I have room in my heart for many things.
It’s all right.
On my computer, I’m type-type-typing something, something that I’m not even sure of, there’s just the typing sometimes.
I have been finding silence and stillness conducive to writing lately, which is odd - usually I have something on quietly on the television, or soft music playing, or I write close to a big window where I can see trees and whatever lies beyond them. But silence has been the way lately.
Except tonight.
I felt like indulging myself.
Probably because I’m feeling distracted. So it helps to split my attention a little.
Have you ever seen those ASMR ambience videos on YouTube?
They’re long videos that feature a relaxing scene. Maybe a cottage porch looking out on a lake on a rainy day. Or a forest campsite on a misty morning. Or a pleasant cafe in Paris on a sunny afternoon. There is mostly stillness but a little activity, like rain, like the occasional bird flying by, like a crackling fire or sleeping cat breathing slowly. Sometimes it is just sounds of nature, other times there are pleasant rumblings, the gentle murmur of people speaking softly, jazz music playing in the background, oldies playing in another room, the wind, birds chirping, water tumbling down a river. I think you get the picture.
I became somewhat obsessed with these during the Pandemic when we were in lockdown. When I was yearning to go anywhere, anywhere at all, whether it was outside somewhere far away from the city, or in the middle of a busy restaurant or a party in a fantasy tavern. I would play these videos, one after another, for hours. I lost my love of movies or television, in sacrifice to this desire to be somewhere.
Tonight, I wanted to put one on.
Just to help inspire me, just a little.
Keep me company.
I’ve been able to go out, go to different places, be around people, be around nature
But I still feel…
Anyway, I put one on.
Porch, in the rain, oldies playing inside, something like that.
I found it relaxing.
And I sat down to write this.
But my mind keeps blazing, firing, behind my eyes different lights bounce around, and I find it hard to focus
I know that I need to breathe, I know that I need to feel still, but every time I do, the racing comes back these days
I just need to practice
But I could do that if I didn’t have to write.
But it’s not that I have to write, it’s that I want to write
But I want to write something else
There’s a book in me
There are many books in me
Fighting to get out
Instead I type type type relaxing things for my voice to turn into soothing ghosts later on
Breathe.
Stop.
Breathe.
[Breathing. A faint, sad piano theme]
Look at the rain.
Look at the porch.
I know it’s not real. I know someone made all of this. I know it’s on a screen.
But if it brings me peace, is it not real enough?
And is it fake just because someone made it?
I don’t think so
I think creating is the most natural thing in the world
Look at the rain
Look at the porch
I am there
Thinking of a story.
All right.
Back to the window with this document open.
I came back to earth.
The castle
Is split apart in billions of fragmented pieces in my heart, in my mind
And perhaps even in the hearts and minds of anyone who listened and loved it
It’s not gone
But I’m here too
And it’s hard here
I remember the feeling I had day after day after day when I used to walk to work and walk home, walk to work and walk home, and then I saw Her
Walking with me
Things aren’t changed much
Different work
And I drive to work now, and I drive home, and I drive to work and I drive home
But I haven’t seen her
I want to see her
I want her to come back
And point the sunset out to me again.
I’ll write about her
Just don’t tell her that I’m ready to write about other things, all right?
I don’t want to hurt her.
Don’t tell her that she, like me, is just an illusion, and I want to explore what’s beyond those illusions
She’s changed herself so many times for me, to try and stay with me
But it’s almost time.
I’m holding her hand so tightly and she’s clawing into my hand so desperately
But soon enough, the time will come for us to
Let go
Look at the rain, look at the porch
Oh cute
There’s a little candle on the railing now.
I wonder when the artist put that there?
Okay, back to the document.
Ahahahahaha this isn’t even anything.
No don’t say that.
I thought about writing about a little ogre woman
With a crooked back and a chubby funny tummy and pimples on her nose and chin and big bug eyes and wrinkles under them and knobby fingers and big silly feet
And the work that she loved so much
That it made people love her anyway
Despite how ugly she sometimes felt
I thought about writing about something sad from the other day
I would write it as a fictional thing, of course
where once upon a time, two strangers on a street sidewalk stopped by to help someone who it seemed had already passed on and was lying there peacefully, right there on the sidewalk
And once help came, these two had to go their separate ways
They tried to take care of the person, but all they could do was wait for them to be taken away in a big white carriage with flashing red and blue lights, and then they had to just walk home.
Who would take care of them after what they had seen?
And who was the shadow on the balcony above them, who watched the end of this scene in silence?
The shadow who wanted to call out: “Are you okay? Do you want to come up for a cup of tea or something?”
But I didn’t
Because there was work to do.
I thought about writing about Rumpelstiltskin.
A creepy creature who wove strange little plots to trap pretty princes and princesses in
But whose eventual downfall lay with him being identified and known and labelled and stuck as himself
If you can name a thing you can have power over it, right?
I worried that I might relate to him too much. I might be Rumpelstiltskin
I might be
A creepy creature
A little ugly ogre woman
An apathetic shadow, far away
Look at the porch, look at the rain
Someone is standing there now
A shadow
Far away
Strange
It’s a little unsettling for an ASMR video
At least, not a Halloween-specific one.
Back to the document.
[A hoarse, mocking voice]
“Back to the document.”
Who said that?
“Back to the rain, back to the porch.”
[Laughter]
There she is
Just as I remember her
Her face is just as it was when she leaned over me in my sleep paralysis all those years ago
Pale
Hungry
Smiling
She is right in the center of the screen
The rain has stopped
The porch is gone
Luckily, she’s still contained to the confines of the YouTube window, the frame there
I am tired, I tell her
I feel sad and small and ugly and apathetic sometimes
Or maybe it’s just been the last two days
Or maybe it’s been since I fell back to earth
I guess that’s why we build up castles
And towers
I minimize the YouTube window to return to the document
But there she is
Her face the same size as mine
Looking back at me
Grinning
Past the words
I realize
I realize
I realize
It is my webcam
The little green light is on
That’s me
Pale
Empty-eyed
Grinning
Maybe I am the little ogre woman
Maybe I am an apathetic shadow
Maybe I am Rumpelstiltskin
[a low voice]
“You are none of those.”
[Music; humming and piano again]
For a split second in the webcam’s image someone is behind me
Another shadow with another pale face with another set of empty eyes and a smile
I only see him for a second before the laptop shuts off entirely, its battery dying out instantly
Along with all the power in my apartment
And the street below
It’s all dark and it’s all silent
As if everything has disappeared
He has an uncanny ability to do that to me
No longer looking at my face
No longer witnessing myself witnessing the world
I float in darkness for a moment, and I feel I am not ugly or apathetic or distracted or cowardly or whatever the hell else I was going on and on and on about before in my ennui
I breathe and I feel him behind me again
A breath of cold air against my neck
Six years ago, I came to myself in a melancholy, dark form that served as inspiration, and I softly instructed myself:
“If I Were a Book…you, my friend, would write me.”
And that is what I have been doing.
And without this constant worry of how I am being observed, even by my own creation, I know now that I am not ugly or small or apathetic or cruel or selfish or cowardly or whatever else I’ve been going on and on and on about in my ramblng mind
I am a Book
I am being written
I am reading it too
[The final word here is overlapped with His Low Voice:]
And I am Beloved.
[Eerie theme music]
(Host speaks as Kristen:)
Hello my friends, and thanks so much for listening in to Episode 265 of On a Dark, Cold Night. This is Kristen Zaza, your host, writer, narrator, composer, podcaster, etcetera, behind the show. It’s been a couple of weeks; I hope you’re resting well, waking up with nature a little as spring comes for us.
Sending my warmest thanks to my newest patreon supporter - this one came in just as I was writing this episode and I’m thrilled I got to include It in time. Big thank you going out to Stuart Cherney, I’m so grateful for your support. Every patron of $1 or more a month US gets access to my complete soundtrack, and every patron of $5 or more a month US gets that, a weekly bonus meditation episode, and a monthly tarot reading video every full moon. To learn more, visit patreon.com/darkcoldnight. You can donate one-time only without perks by buying me a coffee at ko-fi.com/darkcoldnight; or you can buy a t-shirt or hoodie at bonfire.com/on-a-dark-cold-night. The Quick Moment meditation bonuses are also available through a subscription to the Sonar+ apple podcast channel for 3.99 a month, you can also get other great bonus content from other Sonar Network shows that way too.
I’d be very grateful if you left me a rating and a review however you can, through itunes, spotify, facebook, or wherever else you like to rate and review podcasts. I also have a new album up on Spotify - it’s Favourite Little Songs from On a Dark, Cold Night, Volume 2. You can look at up or search Kristen Zaza; I’d love for you to listen to it, share it with your friends, make it your wedding dance music, whatever you like.
And you can follow me on social media on Facebook and Youtube under On a Dark, Cold Night; instagram at darkcoldnightpodcast; Bluesky and Tiktok at kristenzaza, or on Twitter @ADarkColdNight.
Thanks so much, once again.
Spring is coming - the sun is bringing warmth to the world again - and I believe to our collective heart along with it.
Stay strong and stay warm
And Sweet Dreams.
[Eerie theme music]
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