ceceliaofthesuburbs

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2020 gothic

- you join a zoom call. everyone’s mic is muted, but no one is talking anyway. you stare at the squares with faces in them. which is your face? you can’t be sure.

- the news is full of numbers. you try to learn what they mean, but the articles are full of jargon from fields you have no experience in, and you swear the numbers change when you blink. 

- you wake up. you sleep. you wake up. you sleep. how many days was that? you have no idea.

- you go for a walk. a shadow follows you down the street, moving when you move, stopping when you stop. always the recommended six feet away.

- every day you get several emails from corporations you’ve never heard of. each company name sounds fake, too vague, too optimistic. “Stay healthy! :)” they say. “We’re committed to keeping you safe! You must stay healthy! We love you very much! We learned everything about you so we can keep you safe! Please believe us we love you so much we’ r e  , s 0Rry:):)):))”  You try to unsubscribe, but the link just takes you to a blank black webpage. Suddenly, you can make out your reflection in the screen. What’s that over your shoulder?

- you’ve been wearing the same clothes for days, but somehow there is laundry.

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crying bc I’ll never be able to buy giant bagels off a kentrosaurus

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ATTENTION EVERYONE

THE OLD ME IS DEAD. I HAVE KILLED HER AND TAKEN OVER HER EXISTENCE. I AM EXACTLY THE SAME IN EVERYWAY EXCEPT I AM SEXIER.

I DO NOT KNOW WHEN I TOO WILL BE KILLED AND REPLACED WITH A SE-

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All this rain has really brought out hoards of cockroaches! Right now, they’re having a Battle of the Bands. My money’s on a little folk quartet called Roachin’ Hot. Their fiddle player is fire!

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[To “Clementine”, sung in best 49'er drawl…]

Oh my darlin’, oh my darlin’ Oh my darlin’ Quarantine We’ll be locked away forever Dreadful sorry, Quarantine

Went to Costco, for some Purell But I’m stuck in this long line Full of coughin’ and a-sneezin’ It is time for Quarantine

Wash your hands and don’t make plans and LOVE O’ GOD DON’T TOUCH YOUR FACE From the outbreak, this is not fake Not a hoax, this Quarantine.

All around us spreads the virus but for now I’m feelin’ fine In six hours I’ll be sour CDC says Quarantine

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Goals for March:

- Figure out how to summon a Grade Spirit

- Convince it to raise my grades

- Hopefully get an A in English!

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pyromancers will break your heart. unless they burn it. honestly, at this point the latter is more likely.

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Especially on Saturdays when all the high schoolers are studying there...

The Signs at the Library:

Aries: Stalking the aisles upstairs and clotheslining unaware guests. There are signs warning you about them. 

Taurus: Teaching several small children about phonics. They know nothing about phonics, they thought the seminar was about phones.

Gemini: At the best part of their book, they weep loudly.

Cancer: Drunk.

Leo: Hoarded several snacks and pillows under a worktable and now lies in their nest reading something. Security attempts to dislodge them despite the fact that they really are not bothering anyone.

Virgo: Conducting an impromptu erotica table reading/workshop.

Libra: Attending the weekly watercolor classes to show those 4th graders who’s boss.

Scorpio: Currently engrossed in “An Illustrated Guide to the Plants of New England”. They think its a manga.

Ophiuchus: Dueling, but quietly as not to disturb the other patrons.

Sagittarius: Running the illegal black market library from the bathroom.

Capricorn: Proudly wielding the book club.

Aquarius: In the middle of solving the library labyrinth. They are stuck on the marble puzzle in the clock tower.

Pisces: Impersonating a librarian to lead patrons astray.

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What a good boy!

It waits for you beside the pool, in rooms gone overgrown.

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A Friend.

Cooking Pasta, Doing Dishes

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I'm learning a new kind of divination: bone reading. Not the old kind, all burning and smokey and dead, no. The bones I'm reading are still under my flesh.

Shoulder blades are the easiest: aching means anxiety is coming. And when my knuckles pop and twist under my skin, something is going to change. I'm nervous about my right rib, three down from the top, because it has started acting up in a way no diviner's manual covers.

Oh, wouldn't it be easier if I could rip it out, burn it and analyze it, feel it, look at it. Inside my skin the bone remains just as intangible as the future it's meant to reveal.

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When the leaves are bare and the wind is not too strong, I wish to follow the fog. But I have barely crossed the soccer fields when the trees push their branches out, blocking my path. I want to be in the fog, inside it's neverending white, but the trees know that is not what I need. Gentle and forcefull, they lift me in their branches and deposit me on the opposite end of the field. When the school bell rings, pulling me out of it, the fog is all the way gone.

The fog is rolling in again, what does it want ? It sits along the tree line of the school calling, do i dare answer ? And as soon as it rolls in it rolls out, does it want us to follow ? We know what hides in the fog we know not to follow.

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pyromancers will break your heart. unless they burn it. honestly, at this point the latter is more likely.

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wild cabins in the woods like buffalo, they make good hunting

house hunters but literally

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Okay, Patience, I’m done with you. The line hasn’t moved. I never got lunch and missed class. I’m going home. No ritual sacrifices for you this month. :(

Please, Great Goddess of Patience, help me get through this never ending lunch line.

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No seriously, school ended hours ago. I’m still here!

Please, Great Goddess of Patience, help me get through this never ending lunch line.