Take what you need and compost the rest.
That’s the title of a short treatise on post-civilization theory, but it also is kind of my entire life right now. My existence in less than a tweet.
2015 is the year that I very explicitly see myself and my body as a living, breathing, walking, compost heap, a chthonic mystery. And this couldn’t possibly be more evident in how my body deals with ovulation now that I no longer have a uterus or fallopian tubes: when an egg is released from an ovary, it oozes out into the dark, steaming pit that is my abdominal cavity, and is reabsorbed. No evidence of my bodily fertility will ever see the light of day again; the maize kernels that are sown and become bones in the earth.
It’s a very powerful image of self-creation and self-destruction for me. Not like a phoenix, but more like a beast who might eat its own young and live on to create life in other, more subtle ways.
While before I was in rebellion against sexual reproduction, my whole being defies it now. I feel dark, and warm, firmly on my way to uncovering some Truth that no one else seems to know except those that dwell deep in the earth and those stewards of the dead.
I’ve had my last blood harvest. Let’s see what piss and spit might be able to teach me now.