Apocalypse Awakening

The depresh is STRONG today, like couldn’t get out of bed scrolling TikTok (which is no longer a joy), dreading life and all that I will face strong today. It feels like a weighted blanket, and not in a good way – like I am being held down by 1,000 grimy hands and all of them are somehow mine. There’s an awful taste in my mouth and the sun is shining too strong for a November day in Pennsylvania.

Inhale. Exhale. You chose this time – or, it chose you.

Some kid I knew growing up lived in a round house – an Eagle’s Nest they called it. I remember being absolutely fascinated by it, and commented that I would love to live in a round house when I was a grown-up. My mother made a disparaging comment about furniture, and how nothing fits in a round house. Where do you even put a BED?! And my dreams of a round house quickly vaporized before my eyes.

Turns out, indigenous people have lived in round dwellings forever, and they are actually wonderful for heating and cooling, provide movement of energy and light and spirit. Who knew? (Because we killed them off, of course, or we WOULD know.)

Anyways, I think that’s what I need today – to move the energy in my house. I am going to clean and cast spells and change the goddamn stagnant energy up in this bitch, light some incense and move out the foul spirits. Take these 1,000 hands off my shoulders, pushing me down under the waves. Not today, Satan; not today.

The weightiest hands I’ve ever felt were the few times I was “called” in the church. Ordination and installation. All those hands on my shoulders as I knelt, pushing me down into the hard church floor. I remember trying NOT to fall over each time, so heavy were the palms that rested on my head and back.

What a metaphor. Shoving the real me deeper and deeper, killing the A___ that was already 99.99% dead.

I am coming to marvel that I was ever revived in the first place, so thorough was the effort to snuff me out. How did this raging fire/sapling tree (somehow I am both) reignate/grow from the ashes surrounding her? Like the Native Americans who control-burned for the health of the forest, that ember reignited to burn down what needed to go. From the blackened earth, a maple tree sprouted. It feels like nothing short of a miracle to me.

My evil neighbor C____’s dog is shitting on my lawn while I write. It gives me some weird joy that she has to pick it up in front of me. Does that make me and asshole? <Sigh>… I guess we’re all at least PART asshole – may as well just own it at this point.

I’m an asshole, and an angel, and selfish, and compassionate. I’m learning, every day, and to learn I have to fuck up along the way. It’s not easy when you have arrested development and didn’t mature past the age of 17 for some goddamn reason.

I am contemplating how very fucked up my time at PSU was. Did everyone else see it? Was it the beginning of the end?

I wish I could go back and hug her, sweet thing. She endured so much. Too much.

Rest now, sweet girl.