TRIGGER WARNING: CHAOS AND MY ABSOLUTELY STUNNING POWER

I half-slept through an insane wind storm and a full-on lunar eclipse last night. The power is out. There is not a single leaf or needle left on the startled, suddenly naked trees. It’s gray as a corpse out, but the sun shines on a neon carpet of aberrant spring grass – so green it hurts. Meanwhile all the leaves have flown eastward over New Hampshire and Maine to clog up the harbors of the North Atlantic.

These last five days have been shredders. I’m sallow as a fish. All my energy is stuck. My dreams last night were chaos. I kept saying the word “squalor”. I was in a tunnel of tunnel vision; I could barely see. I was a little girl. I walked home eastward, barefoot as a mouse, all the way from San Diego on a small game trail that went through old pastures, ruined forest, environmental disaster Superfund sites, attics and basements and coal chutes of rickety houses and other horror scenes of squalor. Other scenes of child abuse and cruelty. All the way past miles of other abandoned children of varying degrees of hostility and danger to my adult life where my hot boyfriend wanted me to press my adult pussy against a mirror…? 

He was a policeman who earlier that day “had” to kill three wanted men who were “insane”. They thought they were acting in a play in an old barn. HE killed them all and now wanted me to spread my pussy on a mirror for his pleasure and amusement. I couldn’t even find any toilet paper? How was I going to look sexy doing that?! I knew he would leave me. I doubted I could love him based on my own desirability. I wasn’t warming to be a woman or putting effort into being “hot” so it was best to preemptively not love him. I knew this would always be the way and there would be no love. I wanted my vision back. I had to pull over and leave my van on the side of the road as I could not drive it properly and the brakes were going out. I was not able to use my cell phone pad to dial or call anyone up for help. There was a blindingly loud carnival just off the exit. It was excruciating. I had tried to drive home on a different road just adjacent but it put me in a different state where everyone wanted to hurt me. I passed open pit of roofing tar after open pit of roofing tar. The smell was a choking muzzle. 

Please don’t align these images with current events... finding out I have no authenticity after all of this would break my heart in a way I could not come back from. All this dread condensed into a single OXO cube is impressive. The dogs twitched alongside me. We all woke up tangled in the same cast-off web. BUT! We all got up and got frisky. I put AC/DC’s “Shoot To Thrill” on repeat (it’s STILL on) and now I feel like a motherfucking terminator. In a good way. As I drove into town singing at the top of my lungs a HUGE heron swooped down and flew along with me for half a mile. Tears exploded from my eyes as I whooped out loud. Herons are always a harbinger of decency to come.

Actual tears of passion: