if I walk around him seven times, maybe I will break the power of this spell

I realized somewhere last night that the Saturday Thickets Show had entirely slipped my mind. Frack. Sometimes I feel like I must be on some subconscious regimen of torture and sedatives to have a memory this full of holes, but then I remember how little food or sleep I’ve been getting and realize my cognitive functions have simply disappeared in convulsions of polite deprivation.

For about a month, I’ve been unable to sleep a night through. Going to bed promises bad memories, sexual assault, being chased. Dreams that hate me, want me aching. Something snapped last month, some last hope was defeated, some essential promise was struck down, and I can’t find the tools to fix it. The required faith is gone. My innocence hesitated and was shot trying to run away. I can’t get up on the mountain without the knowledge that I can tear the thing down.

The experience was different when it started. I would remain trapped writhing in whatever perjury my brain was providing for me, but by now I’ve learned to suddenly wake instead. Surroundings don’t matter. I do the same whenever I’ve been and with whatever company. Utterly awake in half a second and completely dead inside. I feel contagious.

The moon is coming and with it, poor decisions. Chemicals words whispering bad ideas. I’m scared that I’m going to go hunting for a savior, now that I’ve been taught to be weak, instead of finding answers by myself.

In Würzburg, a small town in Germany, on November 8, 1895, Wilhelm Röntgen was experimenting with what’s now known as a cathode ray tube. He noticed that when electricity was turned on in the tube, which was new then and an unknown quantity, a plate painted with platino-cyanide would glow. Platino-cyanide only lights up when hit by particular frequencies of light, frequencies the human eye can’t see. Further experiments showed him that this light could pass through some objects, a discovery that he improved when he was able to photograph the interior of people. This type of photography was roentgenography, otherwise known as the x-ray. The first famous picture taken was this one of his wife’s hand. Both he and his wife died of radiation exposure as his discovery was being adapted by for medical purposes.