Of Rubedo

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of pontus | of poison | of clams

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That whole situation marked but the starting line for a year and a half marathon of shit, for reasons both my own fault as well a series of bizarre strokes of bad luck that with time and an unprecedented amount of strokes, like it was having an Adderrall assisted all day crank fest, seemingly morphed from a regular trip south 'round Fortuna's wheel into an emination of some Cosmic Cock-Sucker that threw Fortuna through the damn window, called her a cunt, called me a cunt, told Fortuna her bangs made her look like Magneto, then took her wheel strapped my dumb ass to it and biffed it into the sun, then told Fortuna she looked tired (legit bitch). Were I not thrown into the sun I would put money on this stroking motherfucker definitley punching a dog, not a 100% effort punch but hard enough to hurt the dog to the point that it wimpered, then laughing at the wimper,and then looking at you laughing like it was some shared joke with us you just hurt the dog? It's your dog? I've just met this dog. As far as I could tell it was performing it's role of being a dog adequatley. What the fuck are you looking for here. Am I undersocialized or is it strange for someone to have a guest, and mid conversation punch their own dog and look at me beaming, like it's a fucking gift, like he punched it for me, don't you dare implicate me in this mildy injuring dogs shit fucking Jerry greasy ass with your girl's Gap sweats on wearing motherfucker just sell me the phone Jesus - easily within, max, 24hrs after having biffed me into the sun.

You know what I mean?

Just not my year and half.

With this disturbingly consistent series of events metaphorically equivalent to getting picked last for dodgeball or that moment when people with phismosis emerge from the fog of slumber and remember they have phismosis (I don't have phismosis) my mental state became increasingly unstable, and my ability to handle the basic tasks requested of any adult gradually diminished. Loss after loss after loss became a self-fulfilling prophecy, and while any other elevation is generally preferable to bottom it does provide a unique perspective.

Smile.

It was through this perspective that I watched all my worst fears and anxieties come to fruition. It was through this perspective I realized they were bullshit. It was through this perspective I saw the barriers that had formed the track of my life guiding me like cattle evaporate the second of impact, and finally here where I gained back my laugh.

Smiling.

The morningstar is of my breed, rejuvenated returning I no longer waste what's in my head with what's in others, and have no need of their vision as I have trust in my own sight. I see it all now, all I can see, and I can't stop

Laughing.

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medium | twitter

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Last Of.