I haven't costumed for Halloween since 1989 (I was the Joker), which is a sad thing. It used to be my favorite holiday as a kid; I remember my Incredible Hulk poncho and my flame-retardant Frankenstein plasticwear (does the name Ben Cooper ring a bell?). I've been Batman and Spider-Man, and in high school I DJed a dance as a vampire, rising out of a coffin at the beginning of the show.
Concerned for Chris: he e-mailed yesterday, saying he is resenting all things Christian. He is struggling and being sifted. I haven't yet responded; I'm at a loss for words. His life is not on my shoulders (he'd be surely hellbound), but I want to be a friend to him. I just can't see clearly because of this log in my eye. God have mercy on us both.
Speaking of that log, I'm blessedly weary of my piggishness. It ground me down, making me weary of everything else in turn. Time to look up, little rebel, and accept acceptance.