friday_the_thirteenth raze nothing has happened today. there have been no bad omens or questionable coincidences. no mistletoe-tipped arrows have been fired in my direction at loki's behest. no salt has been spilled. i haven't seen a black_cat in weeks. a few of the mirrors in my house are dirty, but none of them are damaged. the moon is working to make itself whole. before i lived here, soot branded this one portion of carpet with the suggestion of uneven eyes. the sliver of dried-out leaf that gave them a mouth has gone. only the sulphide-smeared lids remain. they're as empty as they ever were. styrofoam peanuts litter the floor of an improvised fire pit like wild mushrooms. i don't know how they got here. whatever this was once, now it's a dormant smokestack made of masonry and clay. red_vines with glossy green leaves climb out of the flue, straining to touch the soil they came from. the only thing i fear is losing what's precious to me. and that's true every day, no matter what the norse gods say. 220513 ... epitome of incomprehensibility Friday the Thirteenth: Blathe Title Poetic License i'm_only_happy_when happiness_is_a_warm_cat. "what_do_you_collect?" "best_b_movies_of_all_time!" "like friday_the_thirteenth: special_forces? the one_with_the_freaks?" "no, teenage_geese." "experimental?" black_cat, catastrophizing: apocalyptic_signs, the_end_of_days. 220513 what's it to you? who go blather from