Possession of mind, body, and spirit. A haunted house has maudlin black and grey walls. Antiquated wallpaper, still peeling from 1926. Marshmallow duck, stuck inside Easter bonnet, spooling and spilling through, melted on the floor so we must put on our galoshes to stomp in these sticky Easter puddles. Basket, hardwood floors; The house renewed. Different, but structurally the same. A necessary exorcism at Bobby Mack’s Music Hall in Kentucky. Ghost Adventures episodes. And a millennia of time that seems to have passed between then and now. Possession – As if women and people are objects. As if life is a game of control. I don’t understand how others live that way, guided by these subservient, toxic rules. The jig is up sooner than you think. Not sustainable. Cannot end well. 10 shots to the face for the feeling of being possessed by spirits. Or else, just really tired, fall asleep at the bar, things we still value over time are dumb. New traditions, new religions, new value system. Maybe we wouldn’t need a nuclear family if the bomb wasn’t such a threat. Possessed by conviction, haunted dolls sold on eBay (no thanks). Gumption, nerve, standing toe-to-toe with adversity. Staring down the eyes and mouth, looking at the belly of the beast – whatever beast that may be.