Chey’s Lounge

These Files have had me thinking about things. Connecting dots that probably aren’t there. Maybe they are though… 

Lilith. Who is she? Adam’s first wife who said screw this, I’m not lying under you, and then literally flies off. Speaks the name, grows the wings, gone with the wind. To somewhere else. What happens after this. And why? They twist her into this baby-killing succubus queen. Siphoning off men’s splooge in their sleep, birthing demon kids, cursing women in labor (sounds like Maxwell). Seductress, child-stealing, mistress of chaos.

So Adam gets made, then Eve from his rib. A submissive, second-place, perfect helpmeet. But that’s not the full story, just the much more prominent chapter of the story. You see, there’s this glitch in Genesis, two creation stories smashed together into one. Two chapters that may or may not be contradictory. One where they’re equal, made at the same time. The other where one is made from the other, forever a part of one and not a whole of her own. 

So Lilith… the explanation for why the first try “failed.” She was created to be the equal, from the same dirt, same breath. But equals don’t bow, right? So she has to go. Fly away. Become the monster. Why create her at all though? I mean, in the myths. Unless it’s all real? Or maybe there’s just some truth in everything. But somewhere way back, just like with everything else… the story feels engineered. Like someone said if a woman won’t play along, we’ll portray her as the demon who hurts the most vulnerable. Keep the bitches in line. Fear the independent one. Demonize her. I get it. Sometimes I feel like the whole world is rigged for me to just shut up and submit and if I don’t, I’m the problem. The screech owl in the wilderness. The night monster nobody wants around. Not them, not the kids, and not the nice dinner parties. I get it. It’s scary and not good for the vibe. I’ve had days where I feel like I’m the one flying away, screaming inside, while everyone else pretends the garden is fine. Idk. Maybe Lilith’s just a mirror. The part of us they don’t want looking back at them. But then I crash… on the chaise lounge.

But anyway… I think there may be more to this.