Rhapsody on a windy night

What is it about a windy night that sets something off in me, stirs up some quiet ancient mystery that lingers in my bones, that sleeps in my nerves. Makes me feel a little drunk, a little stoned, a little out of time.

I am restless. the middle of the night. the wind making music, all for me. I cannot sleep. I cannot turn away. not when the world is whispering her secrets to me, in the dark of the new moon, tussling in the trees, dancing their melancholic chorus, burrowing deep. It’s so loud and so so quiet.

Can you hear it too? Come. Look me in the eyes. With the wind as our soundtrack and your fingers… oh, your fingers, working their magic, seeking and finding, soothing the ache, stroking the sweet. slow and steady you are, a calm among the noise, a rhapsody outside my window, a symphony in my head. Be ready. For I will get lost in the wind and the wave, but in the crescendo of that one moment, you will know all my secrets.

And when I surface once again, I’ll find you. And with our eyes locked, I will go down and make you forget it all.

until the next windy night, when the wind awakens something inside you, something beyond memory. Come, I’ll help you remember.


How should a person be

When I die I want all my stuff to be burned with me. I love my stuff. I love it all so much, and I want it to become ash, with the rest of me. All my yarn and craft paper. My favorite legos. and my books oh my books I love my books they have to burn with me. Don’t forget all my Christmas stuff, all the ribbons and ornaments and garland and nutcrackers and candles. Burn all my notebooks, both written and unwritten. My beads! My threads and buttons. My pencils and pens. The paper robots. The metal robots. All of my many boxes and containers and receptacles, the bottles and vials, the bins and baskets, holding my treasures, my trinkets, the absolutely useless junk that define my very essence. Oh, and my lip balms. Don’t forget them.

it’s really a shame I can’t have a sacred underground tomb, my beautiful sarcophagus surrounded by all my glorious shit. and my spirit can wander among it, looking and touching and smelling, for all of eternity.

Instead, when I die, this will be me. This will be my legacy, my existence summed up:

A lifetime of curated love and longing, reduced to a Craigslist post of 12 blurry and lousy photos. cheap plastic tubs, grocery sacks of sadness, piles of loneliness, the rich complexity of my humanness, all for $100…

I’ll be just another life lost, forgotten among objects that no one wants.

Please don’t let me become a Craigslist post. Burn me, with all my meaningless garbage, and we will join the universe of stars once more.


The wild hunt

For New Years, I celebrated by getting rid of my 2020 body hair, making space for all my new fresh 2021 body hair. Fun!

So a terrible year is ending, but it did bring me one amazing thing:

After years, lives, worlds of heartbreak, heartbreak and sorrow, I finally met my true love, the one I will be with forever. She is my world.

Ginger and the side eye

She might not feel the same. That’s okay. I’m patient. She’ll come around.

The other nice thing? 2020 briefly offered the nicest penis I have ever seen. and I’ve seen a lot! It was glorious. Too good for the likes of me, that’s for sure. It was here and then gone, poof. Just like that. This world is a cruel one.

So perhaps, in my little Yuletide ritual tonight, I may have asked the mistress of Yule, hiding in my tree, to bring me another.

Fingers crossed!


My conjunction secret

This is not a joke. It is not a lie. It is not a trick.

Are you ready?

Okay. Here goes. There exists a song out there and it is by Coldplay and I like it. It is a song and I like it and it’s by Coldplay and this is just something I really needed to get off my chest. The Jupiter-Saturn thing is over, and so it’s time.

(It is not however the secret oft-played song of my 2020 Spotify round up playlist, the song that I refuse to share, even though that song is way less embarrassing than admitting to liking a Coldplay song.)

It is one song and one song only and I bet you will never guess it. It’s a song that got radio play, OBVIOUSLY, I mean who listens to actual Coldplay albums.

Still. It’s a Coldplay song and I like it and this is who I am.

The scientist