It all started because someone used a big word. I should have known the meaning of this word, but I couldn't remember what it meant. I looked it up. Immediately, I felt stupid. Stupid, not just for not knowing this word, but stupid because of several instances that suddenly defied physics and invaded the same space at the same time in my brain. I needed to write.
I pulled out my play script. I pulled out my notebook. I pulled out my journal. I sat at my kitchen table with my tea and some of my favorite music playing. I wrote everything that came to my head. A monologue that has nothing to do with my show and everything to do with children laughing. A poem that makes no sense, and of which I only like three lines. A string of associative words. I stared at the pages I'd filled, and could still feel something inside of me that needed to come out. I needed to write something and I couldn't figure it out.
I wrote the name Persephone. Persephone. She won't leave my chaotic mind tonight. Beautiful child kidnapped to the underworld to reign as Queen, devastating her mother. In the search for her child, the earth is forgotten and Winter is born. Only Persephone being returned to her mother brings the joy of Spring. Persephone. Symbolic of fertility. Also the deity who carries out men's curses and takes pity on Orpheus.
It didn't alleviate any of my anxiety. I still feel like there is something in my soul that needs a name. Maybe I simply need spring to return. Maybe I need to be released from the Underworld to see a fertile earth instead of the inside of this apartment. There's something she is whispering to me tonight. I wish I could hear her.
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