over the air

in analog, the snow will cause ghosts.
in digital, this is loss of data.

in that time it was just a gray reflection that wandered during the winter, a girl who didn’t know herself at all, but maybe knew herself better than she ever would, swinging from a tree in the middle of the night and losing herself in the enormity of stars.  it was winter when her heart broke, winter when her resolve grew, and the snow nourished her, almost.

she did not require many nutrients, obviously.

there was no greater peace for her than when the world was covered.  she never quite figured how the whys and whats of it, but called herself a winter girl, and held snow in her mind as comfort.  everything was deep and real and true, and her blood ran thick and hot when she was cut.  this was a blessing.

we have moved to the era of pixels and whether or not the ghosts come around, well, who is to say?  pixels don’t do fading well, up close, or transparency.  you might just as easily confuse them for something very very different.  but that’s alright, we say, you are an individual, you see things how you want to, honey.  she lives in digital now, there is really no choice in the matter, but – well, we cannot be what we are not.  she is a girl of ghosts in the snow, and her imprint under fluorescent reflection is dim and faded.  you might think the ghosts were as well, but no.  they shined in some ethereal way in the night snow, and so did she.  here though, she is off and slightly jerky, nothing quite fits.  it is a rare moment when all of the pieces line up.

she reminds herself that we operate in eras, and that one day, perhaps even one day soon, we will return to the old ways.
maybe one day soon.

inspired by my research on whether or not the weather is messing up my over the air channel receiver, my teenagerhood, neil gaiman’s american gods, which you should really read, and the general sense of “out of place” that is so easy to feel in this world.

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