The last year of my life has been earmarked and punctuated by tarot card readings. Outside of my religious beliefs, I'm not a superstitious person. Nonetheless, these readings have been oddly accurate and it's been unsettling to a certain degree. It's funny because I was so close to not doing the first tarot reading. My badly inebriated brain wanted some attention, so it pushed me into asking this girl if I could be the next person she dealt the cards to. It happened suddenly while at this party with some tattooed hippies who grew not to like me. It was one of the longest days of my life, interestingly enough. I had been running around since early in the morning. I was up making tea's, getting picnic supplies, mapping out all the nice spots I wanted to visit in the city. I hiked around Kansas City with my friend from south to north to east to west back down to the south. We talked in the arts district about how it felt forbidden that I was able to wander around. Took scooters in the river market and felt like we were two of the oldest buildings there. Saw a couple of teenagers who asked us if we were with these two attractive women in the plaza. We told them we had no shot and they laughed saying that they might go talk to them. We got away from them fast, triggered by something in their voices. We saw some past lover, wrapped up the sunlight hours of our daydream, and headed off to go visit the judgmental hippies. I don't remember anything about the party besides the beginning with the tarot cards and the end where we all huddled into some broke-ass car. The tarot cards, according to this girl BeeBee, said that I was going to lose even more control of my life than I already had and that I needed to be cautious because I could be further putting myself into jeopardy. She said something about a nine of swords card and a hanging man card. The prediction was not good, but I could see how it would make sense for my life at that specific moment. I had told myself around 2 months prior to that tarot card reading that I was going to use the pandemic and the time it provided to make myself uncomfortable and learn new things. Losing more control was what I wanted. I was looking for discomfort and pain and hard work. Nevertheless, like these things usually go, we never have any idea how much is truly in store. After that tarot reading, I went on to move halfway across the country for a job, lose one of my closest friends, not be able to work the job I moved for in the first place, get myself into almost $2,500 worth of debt, become infatuated and then disillusioned in a girl, get into a dozen fights or so, almost lose my relationship with my parents, and just generally face the incredibly harsh reality of money. It's been a lot, frankly, so this last Friday when I was offered a tarot reading at a dive bar by a Winona Ryder-looking woman I was reticent, to say the least. Things had started to sort of look up for me and I was worried that she would give me yet another negative reading, making all my hard work vanish. On the contrary, she told me that my big wish was getting ready to come through. That I had slowly, yet, progressively been making small, incremental changes that would pay off soon in a massive way. I asked her if it was something with work and she responded that it was greater than that, that it was something deep inside of me that I had always wanted. Right when I started feeling as if the curse had been lifted and I could forget about the night with BeeBee and the hippies, Winona Ryder added, "But be careful because what you're about to get is something so important and life-changing that your way of living will change entirely. You will shift into a new reality for yourself." She took a pause, looked at me with wild eyes, hesitated in collecting the cards with her hands, and said, "You'll have to worry about the people around you, babe. They'll ride your coattails, make you question your power, and that will be your next big valley. You're the star. You're the pillar of salt, so don't forget that." I just finished my beer and told her that I think I need to read more of the Old Testament. I did go on to receive good news - which I won't disclose here - but it doesn't change the fact that I feel like I need to get closer to a vengeful God. EDIT: Also, she looked like she had been kicked in the head, so maybe my reading was for my friend. Were the readings accurate after all (I write this close to a year after)? You bet your sweet ass they were.