Semantic Distance

for the past three weeks i’ve had the same recurring dream. in it, i’m either looking off a building balcony that faces spadina—with pure shock and awe on my face—watching snowflakes fall on the ground in the middle of the summer. the patches were small enough to be transparent, ice collecting on the perimeter of each mound. people surrounded the buildings wearing coats and scarves, somehow all in a trance, not scared, certainly not alarmed. regardless, i brushed it off the first time, annoyingly reciting to my bf an article i found online that reassures me it represents “blessings soon to be called upon” and “a much needed clean slate” i’ve been manifesting for, all while navigating a busy street market across town.

when it happened a third time, i called my mom (catholic turned christian turned bruja) (i feel like that’s common nowadays) (mom if you’re reading this i’m joking i swear) to give me the actual, acute rundown of what was going on spiritually. moving past the interpretations i mentally ticked off only a couple days ago, i went to the worst: what if that means the world’s gonna end? am i a clairvoyant tasked with telling the greater toronto area about their fate? can i spin this to add purple heart recipient to my résumé?

i avoided the possibility that i’m somehow enlightened enough to be a channel for apocalyptic truths yet to be told, because i’m, practically speaking, not built enough to handle that information in my body that’s awaiting an ocd diagnosis.

anyway, i was advised to enjoy this transition period. but transition from what to where? who even made up the concept of chapters anyway? why can’t everything be free flowing? we’re adding too many addendums to the already long list of exceptions we must abide by because we’re human. everything always evolves—at least it should. like entropy, we’re moving through time with cells that are shedding in the most biological sense of the word, and a natural proclivity for randomness and disorder.