Down the Rabbit Hole: The Third Gate

The Artist waits at the third gate. Small, slight and kind-eyed. He teases gently, wanting to know if it’s now Ms or Mrs Bones, or do I skip the honourifics entirely being that I have only one name. We share a cigarette* as we talk about my mental health and the role it plays in my life right now.

art_trade__claude_by_creature13-d2z6xjg
Claude by Creature13

We talk for quite a while.

When he asks for my jacket, and takes with it my mental health struggles, the fears I have for my future living with it, the motivations and identity that arises around. He doesn’t have to ask twice, if there’s a burden I am happy to live without then this is it…

And yet I feel oddly out of sorts and naked as I move on, through the gate and back onto the path.

 

 

 
*Weird fact: I smoke a lot when I’m dealing with spirits in spirit journeys, but I don’t actually smoke in meatspace. I’m asthmatic.

PS. Nik, this is who you think it is.

 

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