Buck Moon
Full moon diary #8
It is hot here in Central Portugal. Very hot. At night, the moon is so bright you can’t see the stars, and last night, when it was full, it had a ring so big it lit the whole valley. I wanted to go there, into the moon’s arms, and nuzzle my head into the soft spot between its chest and shoulder. But instead I sat at the cafe bar and fixed Fee’s hair into a fishtail braid and felt that longing vibrate across my entire body.
I didn’t realise how much I craved the touch of other people until I moved to London. In Manchester I could show up to the gym at least three days a week and get caught in Lexi’s bottom side control, her pale blue eyes twinkling as she slid over to mount. Who cares about the head and arm choke? I imagine the feeling rising out of my body, light pink steam, and wrapping me up, not quite fuzzy, but nice.
Last month I wanted to be touched so badly that I started losing my mind. It’s not as though I was able to verbalise it to myself: “I want to be touched”. No, it was some intense, elusive feeling that manifested in the urge to lose all of my inhibitions. My muscles in my forearms contracted and thoughts of alcohol, sex and MDMA tried to latch on. I didn’t want to act on the feeling, not really, but it was overpowering. I sat with it. I journalled. I voicenoted a friend. I went to see Ivy Lab and stayed out too late.
The next day I went to a Shakti circle in Islington with Liv. We lay in the laps of women we’d never met while others stroked our bodies and called us beautiful. Soft hands grazed the skin on my face, all the way down to my feet and then back. I didn’t know how much I needed to be touched in this way. No lust, just pure, impersonal love.
I have been here in Portugal for a week. The people I am staying with have begun to feel like some kind of family. I yearn to reach out and hold them. I feel this energy pulsing with nowhere to go, so I take off my shoes and walk in the sand and watch the sun drop behind the mountains, making way for silver light.
Recent work
The eighth and final issue of Ordinary - The Acceptance Issue - is now available to pre-order. I am really proud of this issue and pleased to close the project in such a beautiful way. You can get your copy here.
Before I came to Portugal, I went to Newhaven to speak to locals about the beach they aren’t allowed to access for Dispatch Media. I also wrote a guide for solo festivals goers for Dazed.