by novembercritic

its that time of year again, in the midst of november, when the transitory time in our lives seems to freeze in place, everything grinding to a halt as we succumb to stress and anxiety as the cold creeps ever closer. the frost every morning inches up the blades of grass, and the mornings get blearier as the bed becomes more and more irresistable.

yeah, it’s the shitty time of year again. this fucking sucks. and it gets so difficult to do basic things, like walk the 10 paces from the bed to the sink to brush your teeth, or to turn on the stove for anything longer than 3 minutes, or to pretend like you still like your shitty ass neighbors whose stupid cat keeps screaming through the window at the squirrels who assemble to taunt it. But november always seems to pass, and it ends up being a momentary blip between being scary and festive.

honestly fuck november. and fuck thanksgiving. i would rant about how silly the idea has become, with both the inherent fear of having to try to relate to relatives and having to try to not roll your eyes at the 7th buzzfeed-esque article about how hard thanksgiving is for the white middle class youth; but why would i want to give more time to it? i hate it. its so much fun to be a hater, but its more fun to have new material. the thanksgiving hate train has wheels, it has an engine, but i wanna get off. i wanna abandon it completely, let it leave me behind so that i can forget thanksgiving and this horrible horrible month, and maybe then i will finally be happy on november 17th next year.

But typically november starts off so well, drunk and happy and costumed, hopefully surrounded by friends and that fine ass man in the outfit that he definitely didnt think of last minute. But then you have work to do in the morning, and the pounding headache that comes with the start of November seems to linger with every day that drags its sorry feet into your life. the days go by so slow and the nights come faster and faster, and all your time seems to be hidden behind a thumping vibration in the back of the head. November creeps up on you, and by the middle of it all, when the world seems to catch its breath, you feel it all around you, all your problems laid bare but they surround you, and it could be a moment of clarity, but you forget! This is November. Nothing is clear and everything sucks major ass.

Honestly that’s how it feels sometimes. It sucks to sit with yourself and wallow, and weep and various other w-words (woe?) But eventually you have to drag yourself off the couch and into bed and breathe. Remember how now is the time, for the first time in so long, that you feel alive, like a person with wants and desires, or even if you dont how that day will come again, and it will soon be here. November has a middle part, where we can rest and recover, catch a breath with the world and experience its fullness again. November, at the end of the day, as large as it looms in your mind, is just 4 weeks on some random calendar that some jackass invented forever ago. Call it October 2 and maybe you will feel better. Octember? Noctober? Steve? Anything to make you smile, just for a moment, and remind yourself that it comes and goes, every year, and will always do so until the bombs fall and we all go to where your fishie from the third grade went when your mommy made you say bye-bye.

But the moon is so bright on these cold nights, and some days the clouds disappear and you can see the stars shimmering above the lake, and when you cry out into the wind, screaming and hollering, you can see your breath and how it fogs up in front of you, energy released from you into the world. Not to be homosexual or nothing but that shit is beautiful. It’s good to be alive, even if those moments you feel are sparsed out and disjointed, and even if your friends insinuate that you’re being a twee little lad for remarking on them, be true to the twee little prissy baby you are. let yourself frolick and maybe november wont be so bad.

Sometimes it’s ok to just experience an emotion, to fully sit with it and feel it, to hold it tenderly and sweetly, to allow it to make love to you, penetrate you and you penetrate it in return, and come to climax with it and let it be done. Get your freak on with joy, say some cuss words, hear your dear friends laugh and know you told a good joke, have a favorite mug, experience dissatisfaction and know that next time you wont, that next time you will smile and laugh and love and live (yeah fuck you.) November will come every year, but it doesnt have to be in your ass. honestly guys that one got away from me. this paragraph is gross.

much like my terrible writing style, life is disjointed and ugly. ( you can compliment me if u want.) But sometimes there’s genuine pleasure and love and happiness, and that’s all you can really want to find. i look on twitter and i see people sharing what beauty they found that day, and it inspires me to find it myself, in my loved ones and friends, and your mother 🥵🥵😏😏. 

I found the strength inside myself to be content with being alive, and i know that you can too. It feels so good to be happy again, and to find that in so many random and beautiful places, and i know that that feeling can be shared, and held. So maybe, just maybe, try to take the advice of your first college boyfriend, and try to enjoy the little thing(s.)

Categories: front page, nov 23, vol 25