The Star is what you’ve been waiting for. Maybe you had no idea but this is you, it’s yours, this is what’s ahead. Shhhh.
Well thanks to this whole ordeal now I know where South is. It is directly behind my house. South is down the ravine, slightly to the left. I moved all my plants accordingly, spider babies which were well on their way to dying. Turns out one window is not as good as any other window, for plants. Turns out plants desire southern exposure.
I think, I am hoping, that it’s possible for me to gain or grow a sense of direction now that I don’t have so much noise inside. Minus those tides or whatever. How are you supposed to find your car in a parking lot when you have a thing wailing so goddamn loud from the inside? But now that’s done. The uterus is in the ground and my plants are upstairs where there’s good light. I am excited about the possibility that I might now be able to hold onto a sense of where South is.
The Star is what comes next. Fragile baby dreams you can’t tell anybody about, right now, you just have to incubate them and hold them close till they take root. You don’t have to be glad for whatever disaster preceded it but you do have to say something like, yeah, I guess I never would have pulled out an actual compass, otherwise.
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There’s a beautiful sense of hope here. This may be my favorite.