snow moon

I think the curse broke around the same time I bought my VHS player. I feel like whatever I was plagued by, whatever dark magic had been cast upon me, got uncast. I setup a TV in my room this afternoon and watched my sister’s favorite movie on it. I’m undoing, I’m becoming uncoiled. I’m cutting the twine that was tied around me like a ham in a butcher shop and letting it drop off my raw pink body. I can move my arms again. I’m lounging on the floor and ignoring myself. I’m drinking wine on the floor. The sky is dark and looking outside makes me feel stiff and numb like the cold is entering my body through my eyes. I hang a scarf to block my windows. I can see my candle’s flame reflected through the weave, two shifty circles of yellow light. Earlier, the left half of the sky was hot glowing pink, good enough to eat, and it reflected in my neighbor’s windows to the right. Three orange-pink squares against a winter blue sky, winter blue house. The sun must have already set on that side. I read something a few years ago about humans needing enrichment in their bedrooms and homes. It doesn’t feel good seeing the same things in the same places everyday, it feels like space prison. I just tried to use the word proverbially and got pissed off when I looked up the definition - of or relating to a proverb. I hate when definitions are like that even if that’s correct. Sorry. When I was a teenager, I got an emotional high off rearranging my bedroom and waking up somewhere new. I rearrange often even still, but the intensity is different. The meaningful satisfaction I used to feel is much less. Another thing I saw recently that’s on my mind was a graphic that said: you only live once, in childhood, and everything after that is a memory. That’s how I feel sometimes and it makes me afraid. Like at the beginning, life felt tangible, like you could crush it or stroke it with your fingers, and when you grow up it starts to feel conceptual. Distant. Like adulthood is an echo. I read another thing, maybe tonight all I’m doing is writing down things that I say I’ve read, but I read about the Snow Moon. It’s the February full moon ending the year of the Snake. It sounds good. Snake ending, horse beginning. All we have to do is exist here and let it change us. I checked it out and the internet said I’ve been pushing against the current and everything has been hard for me for the past three years. Wtf? Three years? What the fuck, by the way. That’s a long time. I felt it. There’s no way to evade the stars. You breathe them in with the air. The internet says that feeling of resistance, the stuck and claustrophobic feeling, which yeah I’ve had that forever I think I was born with that, is going to break or release and my outsides will shift towards the sun and my deepest dreams will come to life and it will be easy and I will go fast. I’ll go unflinchingly, like I’m flying. That sounds good, I wanna do that. If I could have anything right now, tonight, I would be on a beach. Cold but not freezing, and I’d be a horse. I’m a horse with a honey red coat and my mane is loose and I’m running. I don’t have anything on, I’m wild and unmonitored. I woke up outside, I washed myself in the sea. I’m running in the sand and my nostrils and mouth are huge and open for all the air I’m sucking in and if I catch a bug it’ll get lost and die in my huge mouth and I won’t even taste it. I’m flying. They can hear my heart pounding in space. The stars, saturn, or whatever planet it was that fucked me up for the past three years, can hear it, baboom baboom, like a storm coming. The planets hear me and their eyes flutter a little bit and they let out a breath, exhale, like, well that’s what she was made for, wasn’t it. And they could never tell me that they’d been watching me, logistically it’s not possible for them to tell me, that they zoomed in on me as a horse on a beach magnified one billion times from beyond earth’s atmosphere, but I can feel it in my heart even right now that they are doing that. Watching me while I’m imagining this in my room at my desk with my wine and my windows covered. And they’re licking their lips for some reason and wiping their eyes like they’re crying for me and they’re putting their hands in my hair, holding it up behind me and pretending for me, pretending that I’m running on the beach and my hair is blowing in the wind behind me. I just got touched by a planet and I don’t know what to do next. These are the types of things that can happen when you’re afraid of dying and you want to make sure you feel everything. Well, it happened, I got touched by a planet, I can check that off the list. My mom told me she read an article about people monitoring themselves, their thoughts and words, and the distress it causes in the body. I don’t want that for anyone. Unmonitored, unedited. I want to become deeper and wider, as deep and wide as possible. I feel it happening. Like my body and soul are eroding, in a good way, a type of good erosion that sheds inefficiency and confusion and I’m constantly shedding and being carved out and debris is falling off of my soul like loose rocks. I think when I am very old I will probably be almost completely free of nonsense and confusion. I don’t think I knew anything when I was born. That’s exactly how it’s expected to go but it’s still a shocking concept. After that, I had to learn everything, slowly, burning and backwards sometimes. I tried as hard as I could to get it all out there, true or false. That’s true. My chest grows gunk and mold and fungus when I don’t dump out my thoughts and I’m scraping bones tonight. I’m scraping the mold off my chest. I’m scraping dark sludge and scum from between my ribs and it’s getting stuck under my fingernails. I’m sorry. So much easier to breathe like this. Tonight I am shedding like the proverbial snake wanted me to. I’m going to fall asleep as a snake and wake up as a horse with a seventeen pound heart. I’ll rip the sheets with my teeth and hooves and I’ll break the bed with my weight and it’ll be impossible to walk down the stairs or drive a car. I might be heavy enough to fall through the floor and forgive myself after. I’ll get outside and go fast. Unflinchingly. I can hear my future heart pound like waves crashing. Loud. I can feel the valves of my heart open and close and push blood to my feet and then back to my middle. Can feel the stars watching me. Baboom baboom.