If you're going to hunt for hobgoblins hiding in your house - and you know you will eventually - make sure you wear a felt, three-pointed hat with a feather in the back. These are not at all easy to find in stores, but you really need one. Trust me. You can always make your own. Here's how: Get felt and other hat ingredients. Form them into a three-pointed hat, fastening everything together with something. Stick a feather in the back. Also it's important to know this: There is nothing a hobgoblin fears more than loneliness. Sad, isn't it? There's really no way to use this against them unless you are a monster. Here's another important point: Don't be a monster.
Lately I've been posting a lot about time and the end of the world. Also there have been great sweeping themes of personal loss and sadness. Why? I don't know. These are just the things on my mind. I wrote once about the danger of treating sadness as an object, something to be examined in the abstract, to be dabbled with as though it were not highly contagious. Why do I bring that up? I don't know. Why not? It's my blog. I can bring up whatever I want.
Today I'm talking directly to you, the reader. I'm not hiding behind a story or some dumb joke. It's just you and me. Here we are, in the third paragraph of the post together. Are you enjoying it? Would you rather I just told you a story? Is this what they call meta-blogging? Who are they, anyway?
I abandoned that paragraph. This paragraph serves as an awkwardly self-aware segue into the next one, in which I hope to bring the post to a close, tying it all together. Here goes.
There are no hobgoblins in your house. There are no hobgoblins at all. There is only the fear of being alone in the world, the fear that this is all there is. Really, though, this is quite a lot. If there were more to life then life would burst at the seams. Hobgoblins would pour out and infest our houses. No one wants that, do they? Not with the dearth of three-pointed hat retailers.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
P. S. - Here's a picture of my wife, Susan. She's more beautiful than I deserve, way out of my league. Seriously, look at me. (I'm the one on the right.) Thanks for stopping by.
