Halloween Thoughts: What this time of year has changed into.

 Halloween has brought me and my family many different kinds of feelings and vibes that fill the chilly air in the States. Sometimes, it was fun taking my little one around the town for collecting candies and enjoying creative spooky decorations on the porch of every single house. Some other times, it felt bothersome to keep opening and closing the door for trick-or-treaters all night long. What had made me feel about Halloween boiled down to some kind of an annual occasion that allowed us to have as many unhealthy sweets as we could snarf down with a good excuse for one night, watching a rehash of cheesy spooky movies. Simple, fun, silly, lighthearted, and relaxing.

 

The aforementioned list of feelings that I had about Halloween has changed into the inexpressible state of mind since October 29^th in 2022. Watching and following the horrible breaking news of an accident that took 159 lives from my home country, Korea, my mind became frozen, and since then, the fear has shattered the existing and presumably everlasting cheers of Halloween into the dark and sad smithereens in my heart. No longer simple, fun, silly, lighthearted, and relaxing.

 

On the 3^rd heart-wrenching anniversary of the Itaewon Halloween incident in Korea, I would like to take a silent moment to pray for those victims, their families, and friends deeply affected by what should not have occurred the night of October 29^th, 2022.

 

Here I am presenting a small of piece of poem from Episode #73 of my book Dr. Jedidiah’s Diary.

 

 

Grim Ghosts’ Night Out in October

 

Again, I hear this whistle tonight.

It cuts and hurts my heart and pushes me to sink in deep mire.

The sound resembles a clamor from the tomb in a pogonip full of fright.

I become enclosed by the noise in dire.

 

Even little trick-or-treaters’ costumes in the streets are no fun to me.

Rest assured their door-to-door trips will soon be over.

Fancy prestidigitations of magicians at a local shopping mall feel like no more than a booster for the Halloween shopping spree.

Hate to see the grim ghosts in between the trees and clouds like a rover.

 

Where is the soul of my own father?

I find myself looking for his lost soul somewhere up there with the empyrean angels.

Though this earsplitting whistle keeps vexing me to smother,

I pretend to hear some happy shivaree or holy gospels.

 

They call me an infidel, but I don’t believe in God’s blessing.

I just wish to know why He took my father so suddenly

and what’s with all this nerve-wrecking sound I hear that keeps

transgressing

I would make a Faustian deal with God to give me an answer in my prayers so lonely.