Solstice.

I know that those following Wicca practices celebrate on the solstices; a few of ours were Wiccan, so I know a bit about that. I am not saying that solstices are supposed to be unpleasant or are wrought in concentrated evil, but my experiences with such days are far from savory. In my experiences, those days were met with dread, with fear. They were drenched in a heightened sense of mortality, and yet it was during those times I worked hardest in my resolve to survive...perhaps in spite of what we were enduring. To prove them wrong: that we were not weak, that we were not fodder for the gods, that we were not created for their abject desires.

Fuck them. Now isn't a good time. I shall finish this later, when the mind is clearer.