This morning, I had an interesting realization. As my life is becoming more active, my private leisure time is becoming more fixated on death. It sounds a lot sicker than it is (I hope.) I'm not a big TV viewer. I gave up cable over a year ago, and most of what I watch is on the Internet or on DVD. For weeks now, I've been watching old Buffy The Vampire Slayer episodes, and its spin-off, Angel. In finding interesting shows on the net to watch, I rediscovered Dead Like Me. A fan of Charlaine Harris, I've also gotten into the HBO series inspired by the novels, True Blood. My reading time has also been spent with other vamp queens like Laurell K. Hamilton and Katie McAllister.
I spent months mourning and dealing with the hard consequences of real death. Now for just enjoyment, I now spend my time with characters who are undead -- dead, but walking around, seeing friends, making wisecracks, acute observations and having some pretty hot sex, if they're not dealing with some crisis that might involve their "real" death in the fictional world. All of the stuff the real dead aren't doing.
For once, I'm not going to over analyze this, just note that moving on with life can take curious forms.