I’ve been depressed for five days. they say it’s usual plus the weather is rainy. I have my sun lamp out. plus I am cut in half and in pieces and finding identity on my knees like I’m a shattered mosaic. rebuild her into a table. put books on top. my spine feels bent like that. I’ve been walking in circles again. I feel fine is what I will say if anyone asks.

I did a ritual with Lilith shortly before my brother’s birthday. the lights were out anyway and I just needed a meditation, some peace. I recently became attracted to that kind of embodiment. that kind of figure in my life, something towering. almost unresearched I went.  I don’t know what did it. probably all the psychic readings. no one urged me to call her or present any kind of gift to her but. having left AA, there was a big vacuum to fill. a belonging. a longing for understanding and a bigger God then what I was promised there. my loneliness seeks a cult like fanaticism and my obsession has been to disprove most things quite truthfully. I had never considered letting proof hold me.  I had been secretly furtive and devout my whole life but I had a strong predilection for men and what they fed me but I was changing winds. I felt urged to classify my beliefs into systems as well as to have something to throw my entire soul bared at which is when she beckoned. I believe. 

I was ready to dislodge the snake and I began to breathe the way I was taught. to move it up and down. I listened to a recording to help me. I walk into things half blind, not really prepared but also not completely ignorant to the feelings. meditation is hard for me. if I sit for more than five minutes I became ecstatic and orgasmic. men laugh when I tell them that and women nod. it is unbearable to carry the christ inside.  I allowed both of my cats to sit on and near my lap. it felt grounding when it began to have them.   I called her by name and with purpose: to rush through my spine and rip up the snake. as I breathed, tethered to the couch, she tapped me and then she hugged me from behind. twice. then and tonight. 

years later I will say it was hard to leave that house. it was. even though I wanted desperately out. it is hard to leave that house now.  i mean it is hard to look back and not hug it real big for what it did for me. 

in the center of the fire, that is where you will find the heartbeat.

what I remember about anything is the visceral feeling, my chest exploding into a tiny thousand light beams. cracked. like an egg and too early like yolk, embryo. becoming the couch, becoming the carpet. becoming the floor.  being beckoned to stay, sit, let the light move through me until it feels like the sky has entered your sex. 

11/13/2016

My brother is dead.

I like women more than I like men. 

It’s ok to feel pain.

Trump is president. 

11/8/2016

so grateful for the heart
that mews in starvation
and is fed in the same. 

I dedicate tonight to Lilith.

10/31/2016

dream I was with a bunch of people discussing a man and I said “don’t do it. you’ll be disappointed and have mediocre sex the rest of your life.” everyone laughed and invited me to hang out with them and wrote it down. there was something else I said that I thought was more profound but it went away. 

goal: complete paperwork on time.
gratitude: a job, a car, an apartment, my stained glass windows, God. returning. being open. the way it felt when Lilith held me. 

10/25/2016

dream I was watching xxx fight a demon and female ghost. i had left this house and left him to do it on his own. i just abandoned him in this way. 

I prefer not to write my feelings unless I think no one will ever see them. my handwriting is atrocious and barely legible. when I think about this, I become ashamed and also think that no one will ever understand me. writing hurts my hand too because of the straw. I explained to my therapist that I prefer to type because it’s more legible and clean. she thinks the act of writing will be healing. I think that I have arthritis. I don’t know how to explain the straw, my need to grip. my therapist says I have tons of trauma and I am inclined to agree. 

the important thing is that I stop making lists. no, the important thing is that I don’t lie to my journal. also, I would like to make less lists. 

goal: finish SWOP draft
gratitude: my cats. my ability to change. scarves. the beginning of fall. halloween. something intangible I reach for. the reaching.

10/23/2016

dreamt I was walking through a party at 3:30 am and it was sunny. a guy kept offering me weed in front of AA people. felt weird about taking it in front of them and uncertain about what he was talking about. he was from out of town. I don’t remember where. 

 my therapist is the one making me use the journal. I only usually write my dreams. 

I can mention that I cut my own hair again today. just the back. to remove all the length from it. I saved a couple of the locks this time which I had never done. put them near Lilith’s candle. I always feel better after I cut it. 

10/22/2016

dreamt of a white elephant portrait. in some type of museum I was trying to protect. dream of a party with xxx ended up making out and then pushing him to have sex with his girlfriend.

my brother is dead.

I’m gay.

It’s ok to feel pain.

10/21/2016

I review my 2016 goals at the beginning of the journal, after I’d written my dream down:

yoga
trust body and intuition
write in journal every day. 

it also says: 2/10/2015 the dream of double moons.  written near it. and “my last life on Earth.” I make a lot of declarations. 

I woke up feeling aggrieved. usual. even with new particles swirling inside of me they still went right to the rage. 

this week I practice exploring density. I have a hard time dating women. I am in between phases of myself and feeling depressed. trying to be water, feel like a grave. i’ll finally let it go. 

10/20/2016

today is my brother’s birthday and to celebrate I ate whatever I wanted, which became a lot of cookies which became a habit. I also wanted him to read the cards for me. I was still using the spanish Labyrinth deck. it was my only tarot deck. I lit one candle on the dining room table  and then three candles on the mantle. for Lilith, for God, for us.  I ate some of his ashes out of the black and white handmade ceramic jar that looked like a genie bottle. someone had made it and gifted it to me. it was very dramatic in presentation and it was the perfect urn, always placed neatly out of sight but around. I wanted to feel my brother always and especially now. just sprout inside of me as a memory. that he had happened. that my house existed.  that before he died, we spent ten years estranged to talk again about the pets and chit chat and busch gardens. and he wanted me to move back.  a year before he passed, I blossomed in the mountains of colorado away from him dying. that it was possible to see The Sun reversed again. that it was possible to move on.

I became dense.. 

10/19/2016

“but what if I’m wrong?”

–4:40 am, any given morning

(winter, 2016-2017)