one year

Today marks a year since Ozma's death. I went into the closet to get her wreath, and it is absolutely her wreath because she helped make it, and it literally fell apart in my hands when I went to move it. I'd like to say it didn't break whatever was left of my hope for the day but that would be an absolute lie. I'm not sure I'd be as sad if I hadn't put it in the closet to keep it safe (ha?) and if my other attempts at wreaths without her hadn't turned to absolute shit. I knew it would eventually fall apart or need a little of the better glue sooner rather than later but uh, yeah.

For now it's back in the closet and I have decided to poke my emotional scars by reading up on Mike Flanagan's tumblr. Midnight Club was cancelled (because Netflix is a petty bitch, I don't feel bad in assuming it's because he inked a deal with Amazon) and he made good on his promise to detail what S2 would've been since they cliffhangered it hardcore.


( SPOILERS. )