Watermelon Moonshine

Photo by Jason Briscoe on Unsplash

I recently ordered a watermelon juice from GoPuff. I liked it. Now that Lainey Wilson’s “Watermelon Moonshine” is one of my favorite listens, I wonder what that moonshine flavor would taste like. It would taste like a rose with a sharp bite of the moonshine added.

This post isn’t about alcohol consumption. It’s about the moon, or more, the guide that it works as. Again, don’t quote me, but for a long time, I have believed a story that the ocean waves are dictated by the pull of the moon. That’s why I always connected waves to the moon. The goddess Selene controlled how the water moved and therefore, controlled all of those that lived by the moon and water.

With the rising of the phoenix, Selene evolved. She was no longer regulated to just the night sky and the water. I thought about her now being represented by the phases of the moon (trust a tattoo is formulating with this idea), but I needed something more tangible and earthly. That’s when I heard Lainey Wilson’s song and it just clicked. The next life phase is watermelon moonshine.

The watermelon represents life and growth. The rind is the human form. The moonshine? Well, that represents the moon shining its blessings down into the elixir consumed and giving us our thoughts and visions. Selene communicates through the moonshine now.

Let’s consume it now with the full moon that just appeared a few nights ago. What needs to be acknowledged as the moon moves from Aquarius into Pisces? Well, it has to start with housekeeping. I blame my webmaster. I write these essays on napkins, desktop post-its, journals, and MS word at both my home and work office, and then in jagged pieces, they’re plastered into the dashboard and made into a story. Sometimes I attach a photo, sometimes I leave a note like [photo of something like a moonshine drink in a mason jar should go above]. That’s the extent of my responsibility.

I say this so I can next tell you that I never see these stories again. I link them to social media and then I never read them again. The layout of my website, and the articles that were chosen to highlight my supposed talents - all Stacey’s choice. Blame her.

This is to say that I can only imagine what reading words that seemed to indicate a certain view or feelings could make one think. I have a rule that I never take back anything I write. It’s bad mojo. Did I truly mean all of the words and do I still feel everything in them? I wholeheartedly meant them when I wrote them, but that’s not today.

I don’t wish ill on dodged bullets and I don’t regret the past. Life is way too short. This ambiguous stage is perfect. I’m going to need some alone time for a bit. It’s tax season and the US Treasury has decided to screw me so March will be a fun month. Not to mention three work deadlines in the next few weeks. I probably won’t be able to even enjoy St. Paddy’s day, but you have to give it your best shot because not doing so means the bad guys win. This is a breather, cowboy.

The website has been updated to reflect just the moonshine. [Bad, Stacey!] I’m doing nothing out here but working. The Twitter account was put on private because the algorithms are all over the place and only on private does it filter my newsfeed to only industry types. I go to Twitter to read what working-class Hollywood is up to. I don’t care for all the kool-aid drinkers. If I can find a way to keep my page public while not losing the way my newsfeed works.