Moments of Eris

[Pope Mome Apocrypha]

Wrote something as something, maybe its something

So I'm sitting next to a friend of mine while we're at a competition

I'm in a silver cloak and navy blue dress, and he's sitting there in a black trench coat with an umbrella at his side. One of us is competing in a costume contest. We both dress like this almost everyday.

In his hand, he has a small paperback copy of The Prince, and in mine, I have a book of a very different (yet similar) kind, written by a man named Mitchell (Larry) not Machiavelli.

As I reach the last page for the third time that week, I hand the book off to another friend of mine, this one in a purple cloak.

They accept it with a nod, followed by him calling me a twat-waffle in sign language.

As a tip my head back, I speak to my friend in the trench coat.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

He snorts, and turns to the next page

"Something like that."

I hit him on the shoulder, and he puts the book down, before joining me in looking up at the ceiling.

He pauses, thinking for a minute, before speaking again.

"It's insane, I think, entertaining, yes, but would you call a trainwreck beautiful?"

My other friend, without hesitation, responds:

"Yes"

And in that moment, I get it, I think.

Insane, and entertaining, and horrifying, and changing, and yes it is beautiful.

And it is beautiful.

And She is beautiful.

"Huh"

And then I grab another piece of pizza, and the moment is gone.

But the Goddess Prevails