She began to menstruate. Every moon cycle made her cleaner and more pure. The water ran clean every time she went through these cycles. Menstruation was not about being dirty and separate, it was part of being a person. Being the earth, remembering the stories she had to tell us, the knowledge necessary to clean her, the wisdom to help us all prosper.

The earth was grateful, she had panged for too long. Her moon cycles would only bring more cleanliness, most all the gunk had been removed and became organic matter. Anything leaving now would not feel like an unbearable cramp, but instead like a good old-fashioned shit taking. Where the opening of the anal sphincters no longer associate their stretching with displeasure and pain, but with ecstatic release and food for rebirth. Her moons were not full of lunacy and mental disease anymore, but instead cleared the minds and bodies of her terrestrial inhabitants.

Time as the people had developed it through them out of whack. The earth wanted to remind them how to do it, how to listen to the moon. The clocks stopped spinning, human machines bowed to nature, and structures began to be overtaken by unstoppable vegetation. The plants, grasses, and oceans thrived and took their rightful place as the true rulers of the earth. They were coming back to teach their favorite pollinators how to do things right, how to help them help them. 8 billion people on this planet became a million ancient bees. It was spring, and the calenders were all wrong. Numbers needed to be reorganized. The earth was birthing a beautiful baby just crying to be born. Fertility pushed forward in full force, like nobody in history had ever experienced before. Pop went the weasel, and the trees began to walk again.