I burn and turn as I spiral inside out all among the leaves of the plant. Some kind of perfect orchard my living room has turned out to be. A sacred space for the dance of the apocalypse, I foresee an unconditional seance where my grandmother may be reunited with my long gone grandfather as I witness a holy revival from beyond.
Rituals are romance as I burn bundles of white sage to purify my sins. I long for purity as the perfectionist within holds the hand of God high above another altar. I would be selflessly devoted to the cause, but apparent debts hade been paid thousands of years before. I never had the chance!
“Be the change you wish to see in this world”- but, why not be the brightest star with a wish? There’s just something dazzling about that within- and it’s hope.
P:acing my place, the glitter of “I am stardust” running through my delicate veins rushes to my beating pulse, silently shrieking the breaths of depression and repetitious convulsions.
“Are we there yet?”, I panic as the dance around the plant continues thrice more, each salutation completed with greater enthusiasm than the before. Past the point of no return, I set sticks of incense aflame near the newfound Mecca to heighten my senses for this divine experience.
I just dance- like no one is watching. I dance and I twirl a girlish twirl as if I am the belle of heaven’s ball. I celebrate every mystery and the cause of the seven wonders of the world as all the answers can be found within (this I just confirmed). My impeccable and immaculate choreography continues all hours through the day non-stop as my will extends the possessive powers of the wax plant to draw down the moon. I need it that night.
My objective here is to store lock-and-key little pieces of heaven and all of God’s answers to my need to know right now questions in vaults of shimmering crystals and stones. I am the extraterrestrial, born upon the pale horse of the early nineties. My blood seeps with rarities and conspiracies, and I have spent the past two years in isolation for cautionary measures.
This moment isn’t silly; this moment isn’t small. And to know this can only hold a fragment of the truth that’s been buried; this blue Celestine crystal will be proof of our theory of human’s earliest existence of creation! It will be worshipped- I will be worshipped, for our possessions will lead us to heaven and realms of beyond. And I am selflessly sacrificing for the good of mankind and human kindness alike.
The blustering wind against the windowpane is absorbed into the sponge of my brain becoming the air of flawless thought. Each inhalation births new ideas, brighter ideas to feed impulse which dies during an exhilarating exhalation. Some old ideas rebirthed in incidents of karmic numbers, and it is the age without expiration which inspires me, the immortal soul who has survived various decaying bodies in many unknown lifetimes I am to regress with the perpetual mantra of “Be Here Now”. I am the Devi of the New Age with the agenda of the perfect savior who does not yield from any cult, robed in vishuddha blue. My soul’s purpose is to know the many battles I have righteously defeated in past lives, exposing the naked truth so that all may never wander in fear ever again.
With this sacrifice, I have rid of all evil, any foe and all which does not serve me. With this blood I will bring physical prosperity so we, too, who reside in downtown ghettos will live in limitless luxury. I am the law of attraction, the magnetic field which seduces palladium and gold into the physical realms of my divine atmosphere, to share kindly the wealth of that I preach of.
I am the prophesied woman to follow in the likes of Jesus as himself and Isa, for he was a perfect Jew. That is modern feminism in the year 2012.
The heroic story of a young heroine who becomes pregnant at the age of 16 via virtuous sin and connects her identity and social likeness to the government handouts of Social Security and Welfare in order to stimulate the national economy and feed the starving mouths of women, infants, and children will save the world. Divinity by runes and stones only confirm that I would come again, and at that before God’s own return. I am primordial woman. I am the first womb. I chose the first perfect sin to feed from the forbidden fruit which bore the labor pains of your harking mother. The fruit is not the sin, but the pit of the peach. I have retuned to diverge in a detail self-help novel demonstrating do it yourself steps on what to do when the higher power bans you from your own garden.
Footsteps are no longer creatively dancing around the plant as my heart begins to race and I find my body in the moment spinning around myself in circles. Eyes dilate as sharp wit races and I race to remember the tale of my current life as the incarnation of Eve.
“Be Here Now”,
Faster and faster-
“Be Here Now”,
Faster, accelerating the pace until I lose all control and limbs flail holding on for consciousness as I collapse to the carpet.
Without all this, I am lifeless.