Laugh, I must, in the face of the absurd, for if I stop to breathe, I shall weep until the end of time.
Elegy of an Awakening
Laugh, I must, in the face of the absurd, for if I stop to breathe, I shall weep until the end of time.
Yesterday was Easter Sunday. Our tiny calico chose to sleep in my closet for most of last night instead of on my bed, a behavior that always seems to mark an energetic shift. I didn't think much of it at the time.
They shaved their heads, Stripped their names, Filed the bodies into silence. No names. No stories. No paths back home.
Strong feelings unexplained. A timeless knowing formed. This moment. This day. A turning point.
What started as a casual “hey, let’s try something weird” turned into one of the most unexpectedly fun and strangely accurate experiments I’ve had in a while.
I didn’t plan this. The universe did. Also, I may have set my altar slightly on fire. But it’s fine.
I don’t usually share my tarot readings like this, blasting my spreads into the void of the internet.
My river of tears, the grief of lifetimes— the mourning song of all the versions who held it in far too long just to survive. A vigil for all the pain endured in silence.
They say I choose how I feel, but my hands still tremble when ghosts walk by drenched in familiar smiles.
A message sent in silence, in a chat meant to vanish, at the hour when fate leans in.