I have this 
thing about graveyards. Until I was about sixteen I just assumed everyone liked hanging out in cemeteries.When I first got my license the one thing more exciting than New York City being 75 miles away was the whole new range of graveyards to visit, wander around, write in, take photos at, etc…
I’d even go to the extent of saying I find cemeteries peaceful – especially ridiculously old ones. Australia was colonized in 1788… the town I grew up in was settled in 1707. Maybe my fascination with graveyards is because the place I was raised in is full of ghosts?
Perhaps what attracts me is the history of humans, how different life would have been three hundred years ago. If I could somehow swing growing all my own food and being able to live in a house that doesn’t involve paying rent to a bank for the rest of my life… I reckon I’d be happy scribbling in a notebook every night. Although way back when as a woman in the 1700’s reading and writing may have been out of the question and I would’ve been forced into having a flock of babies by now, at 31 I’d probably already be a great Grandmother… but I digress.
I just moved to a place next to the historic cemetery in Jersey City. Thanks to general superstition, no one wanted it, so the rent was nice and low. I find it calming. When I’m in a cemetery, no one is going to bother me. Certainly not the inhabitants.
That’s awesome! I think it’s interesting how superstitions alter from culture to culture. For awhile I worked in property in Australia and no one from China would buy anything having to do with a certain number (which escapes me at the moment)… wasn’t 13 though, it was another random digit. Funny how humans freak out over harmless things like living near cemeteries and walking under ladders…