Strangers send me messages. It happens all the time.
Every morning, I wake. I stretch. Then I just lie there in the dark to see how long I can lie there. In the dark. Lie there NOT checking my messages.
It’s all about discipline.
Sometimes I go a whole minute. Sometimes two. I hold out for as long as I can and when I finally give in, there they are. Sometime in the night, strangers have sent me messages. Again.
The people I know hardly ever bother with me, but these strangers? They really seem to care.
Some are sending me grammar corrections for the blog. Some just want to share the music they’re listening to. Recipes. Rumors. Photographs to turn me straight. I get damned to hell at least one time every week.
There’s an Elvis impersonator in Ohio who links me to clips of all his shows and a girl in Tallahassee needs help coming out to her mom. This one guy sends me pages and pages of angry emails. Every day. Without fail. He calls me a slut and tells me I am going to pay for what I’ve done.
Keep in mind these are strangers.
Last week, I woke to find a message even stranger than I’m used to. I deleted it eventually. I remember what it said.
“Hi, Katy. My name is Stacy. I live in Houston, too.
I read your blog and I saw how you talk about scrying and sleep paralysis and blind spots, so I thought you might be interested in this.I think I’ve started astral projecting accidentally and I want to see if it’s real. I’m going to test it to see if it’s really happening and I wondered if you wanted to help.I think I even astral projected to your house once but I must have gone to the past because you said you don’t have spiders anymore and I saw 5 big tarantulas climbing up your wall.So no pressure but think about it. Thanks!Love, Stacy”
Now, that’s a strange message to get in from a stranger but here’s the thing about the thing that Stacy thought she saw.
That’s my wall right now. With five spiders.
They’re not live spiders but still they’re five spiders and that’s my wall.
So I read Stacy’s email and then I looked at my wall. Then I read Stacy’s email again. I paced. I threw around a tennis ball and wiki’d “astral projection.” Twice.
Then I called up my friend, Aesop, and I said, “We’re going to need a lot of coffee and we’re going to need two laptops with a c-drive folder of colors and a c-drive folder of words.”
Aesop said, “Alright, cool. What for what for?”
I said, “Tonight, we’re gonna bust the bonds of reality with a stranger.”
Aesop said, “Just tell me where and when.”
[To be continued. Maybe.]