ME AUTOMATED

die. or fall into hibernation, wait for the darkness. i thrive in darkness only. and cold. maybe there’s something strange in my blood that makes me crave dim lights, grey clouds.

i dance naked in the kitchen and stir my porridge or curry or whatever it is that’s cooking with my large wooden spoon. i find the spoon rather erotic. might be the shape. or its velvet hardness.

i notice something is different. the curtains they are open. i am sure i have closed them last night. now i can see the sky. it’s grey. i can’t tell the time but probably really early. the light looks like the sun hasn’t risen yet.

at the back of our cave. its ceilings are full of the roots of plants growing around us. mushrooms growing everywhere. they serve me as tables.

i want to fuck everyone i meet. literally. doesn’t matter if they’re pretty, if i’m pretty that day, if i’m on my period or sick. maybe it’s not fucking i’m after, actually. maybe i just long for someone to take me into their arms, wrap their whole body around mine. like a tightly fitting body suit.

having mothers and fathers and grandmothers and grandfathers. having partners and children, dogs and houses, jobs and insurances. i guess i could get all that, make myself normal. how hard can it be, really?

my body develops eyes everywhere, eyes and openings. stuff can just pour in, uninhibited. and i can look outside and pour out, seep and gush, spread myself and let myself be usurped by all around me. it can’t hurt me. it can’t harm me. on the contrary, it enlarges and solidifies by creating multiplicities.

my eyes are my superpower.

by Natalie Stypa

Natalie Stypa is a writer and artist currently based in Berlin. She co-founded, edits and writes for GIER, a magazine against binary thinking, and has published a number of zines. Instagram: @needybitchcravings