Naked for Neptune
There’s a myth that Neptune brings the madness, that it squashes every ounce of sanity left in a person’s mind and turns them on to every neurosis and mental inhibition that lurks within the constructs of their imagination. Knowing this, the young girl walked outside, naked and dancing underneath the stars, screaming for the planet to take her and give her the sight of schizophrenia, to instill in her the depths of depression. She wanted sadness, craved instability, and when the rain fell from the sky, she opened her mouth and drank the tears of the night. It moved within her. Ate her from the inside out. The girl screamed as insanity roamed down her throat, as it filled her lungs, and swept her organs to the side. What sweet music it made beneath her skin as it devoured the reality she knew and replaced it with a new world, a new way of seeing; one that bled the wounds of clairvoyance, that twisted and melted matter into a surrealist orgy. Everything changed, and with it, so did the girl. Her body moved with a sixth sense, a sixth feeling that she couldn’t unsee, couldn’t undo, and when she walked back into the house, when she put her clothes back on, there was a twinkle in her eyes. A straitjacket around her heart.