Mercury comes in elemental, organic and inorganic forms, and each form possesses different qualities and purposes relative to man. It defies all of its fellow brothers with its ability to turn metals into gold and produce something valuable.
To my great dismay, the science of molding oneself is far more complex than evolving from a liquid to a solid. After celebrating another gain closer to the true cusp of womanhood (or death, depending on how you look at it) my head and heart collaborated to make a significant alteration in my life. I find it rather ironic how the celebratory process of becoming legal meshed so tightly with my internal alterations. Both were slightly easier to swallow thanks to my man of honor, perhaps he won’t serve the position the title often implies regarding holy matrimony, but he will always be my man of honor. My celebrations were well celebrated with friends driving two or three hours to visit and several broken champagne glasses...
In light of change, I recently took the Myers-Briggs personality inventory, which resulted in a change in my personality type (from three years ago when I initially took it) in one of the four categories from a “feeler” to a “thinker.” It seems fitting and I take pleasure knowing some elements can remain stable while others can simultaneously change… During daylight I sit and think about the past year riding loosely in a roller coaster, throwing my head back and laughing without thinking. When night falls, I think of the repetition of the last year and the cycles of daily events going around and around like a carousel. There are times I feel like an aged woman. Like used goods—an orange, moldy and shelved. But I clutch onto a dream I had where one scraps off the mold, peels back the skin revealing the white veins that still bleed a bittersweet taste…and then…watches me glow a bright orange. I woke up with crocodile tears…
And then there are the lingering moments in between white skies and cosmic ceilings when my forefinger graces the flesh of my neck checking my pulse in autopilot mode, and I fancy an image of myself running and running…feet pawing at the ground and collecting soil in the crevasses of the skin pads. Running and running into a landscape of eternal horizon, my transformation illuminating.
