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Blood Moon

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Blood Moon

Article

Blood Moon is a recurring concept in the Collected Agenda archive, appearing 1 times across 1 issues between October 13, 2025 and October 13, 2025. The archive places it in contexts such as “Everything is changing because of something in the Blood Moon and wind and ambitions came roaring back to life”; “Was it something in the Blood Moon?“. It most often appears alongside 365 Apartment, Adriant Khadafhi Bereal, Afters.

Metadata

  • Category: Concepts
  • Mention count: 1
  • Issue count: 1
  • First seen: October 13, 2025
  • Last seen: October 13, 2025

Appears In

Source Context

Recovered passages from the original issue text. When the raw archive preserved outbound links inside the source passage, they are listed directly under the quote.

Void of Course
October 13, 2025 · Original source
Right my wrongs mostly through not repeating them and forgive those who have wronged me mostly through prayer Wednesday, October 8 In the mood for beautiful items and caution to the wind, I spent last night with memories, collages, beautiful images of beautiful things. Spent last night making drawings on the floor and watching home videos and pawning through little gold crosses for sale on vintage resale scammer sites. Little gold chains with amethysts. Blue pearls. White pearl chains. Tiny little silver hands clutched together. I wanted everything. Wanted a ceramic box stuffed chock full of precious stones. I reconsidered what I wanted. I wanted to unearth new memories. I wanted to recall everything I worried I’d forgotten. On a flash drive, I wanted to find a video from a winter. One can tell it is winter because everyone in the frame is wearing big coats and has that sort of frosty happy manic sun set early look in their eyes. I wanted to throw a dinner party. I wanted to print out every video I’d ever taken from every dinner party I’d ever thrown and keep them on polaroid papers in my bedside table. Wanted the videos to play on printed paper like a film when I touched them. Wanted to open my bedside table and take out pieces of paper that came to animation-style-life with simulacras of candles and autumn and freezing early evening air and the part where the doors close and the guests are gone and one says, that was a good dinner party. I have been to the movies, a concert, ballroom dancing, writing class. Everything is changing because of something in the Blood Moon and wind and ambitions came roaring back to life along with urgency pertaining to health and rejuvenation and someone else’s problems usurped my own. I walk to Grace’s concert in the evening. How did the blood moon treat you? Sam asks me inside the venue. Dark and small. Grace’s face was swimming all around the televisions on the wall and her voice was sweet like an angel and my new friends were reassuring me that if they saw someone scribbling symbols on post-it notes in writing class they would be intrigued and not disturbed. The Blood Moon was up and down, I tell Sam. Makes sense, Sam tells me. On account of my Pisces Moon. On account of things I don’t believe in. On account of a psychic who said something like this might happen and for now I could expect a little while longer, at least, of sparkling water in the East Village and holding court by the East River and a tip-toeing holding-steady kind of limbo-life that lasts for a few months and maybe years, though not forever. There is a train to the ocean again, tomorrow. That should shake things up. Thursday, October 9 I missed the train to the ocean by one instant, and so the yellow cab glides right past Moynihan Train Hall and then back towards Soho and a murky turtle pond, unpacked bags, more of the same. Do you feel grief because it is the first day of Fall, Amelia asks me. Is it something in the air? Was it something in the Blood Moon? Things have become all crisp and wane, you see. I feel grief because I missed my train, I tell Amelia. I am craving a sense of everything empty and clean and gray autumn ocean and a world where nothing ever changes and nothing ever stagnates all the same. This is the only sort of thing I have strong opinions about. My whims and also, what is beautiful and what is not. I was sitting by the fire at The Marlton, earlier, and the girls across the table were trying to conjure up strong opinions. Mostly trying to find moral fault lines in the structure of things that they might crack open and uno-reverse for the sake of mostly their own personal gain. It was so depressing to listen to. I stopped listening. Friday, October 10 On the first day of Perfect Autumn, Iris and I go to The Commerce Inn for dinner. We are still quite young and are going to live quite a long time, Iris says. A random stranger at The Marlton Hotel told me and Amelia not to be so hard on ourselves and I thought he was chastising our lifestyles choices and not just being invasive yet kind and so I nodded violently and said ‘I know, I know, I know,” I tell Iris. The Commerce Inn is the sort of place one can only go in evening, and in fall or mainly winter though it is known for ‘Brunch.’ Tonight feels like a very Autumnal affair. Dark and surrounded by fallen leaves. The moon is Void Of Course, the stranger at The Marlton told me. Iris and I order oysters and bone marrow and fluke. The last time I was here, I ordered potted shrimp and it was snowing and I tucked carry-on baggage under the table, filled up on wine and aioli, caught an overnight flight to Los Angeles straight through the storm. At tea today, Celia told me; I don’t care about anything if I’m not nostalgic. That’s because you value intensity above all other things and cannot comprehend any other structure to a way a life should be, I told Celia. It’s the right structure for a life to be, Celia told me. I agree, I told Celia. The threads of things have been a bit disjoined. I am beginning Ninety Day Novel, I tell Iris. It wasn’t for me, Iris tells me. What was for you? I ask Iris. Becoming possessed, Iris tells me. She tells me some other things, too. She doesn’t tell me what to do. I kind of lost my nostalgic fervor, I tell Iris. I know you love the winter, Iris tells me. So, it is just one life all at once, which I’ve been telling myself since June and I am finally starting to believe. Iris and I start to walk to The Hudson. We reroute towards Greenwich Village and it is finally getting freezing. I am finally getting sick of talking about these sorts of things. I will talk about something else, soon. WHAT YOU SHOULD DO Monday, October 13 From 4pm at Roxy Cinema — The Downtown Festival continues today and all week. At 6:15pm; world premiere of The Isdal Man by Gus Dapperton, with a Q&A moderated by Lucas Hedges. A film about Scandinavia and a vlogger (?) - I hope to make it to this. From 8:15pm; Love New York (Anthony Di Mieri). From 10:45pm; City Wide Fever.
Inline links: Roxy Cinema, The Downtown Festival, The Isdal Man, Love New York, City Wide Fever

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