(Saturn is squaring my Mercury causing me to hate everything that comes out of my mouth. If I sound like I’m eating a robot, that’s why.)
I’ve been in that phase again where I write a million blog posts then delete them cause I can’t stop imagining all the reasons people will hate me for anything I say.
Personally I love to read people writing about their own experiences. Whether it is trudging across Antarctica or making their husband a sandwich, I don’t care. But when writing about myself, the voices in my head start calling me a self-absorbed, navel gazing narcissist. Sometimes real people do too.
So then I become an intellectual. A defensive posture. It makes men think you are smart and respect you more. Sometimes it feels like men are highly cue based when evaluating intelligence. A woman in spectacles discussing science is intelligent. A woman gluing cotton bears onto a wreath is not. But I can’t maintain being intellectual. It feels like walking on my hands.
And the Heard-Depp trial is ‘triggering’ me. But I’m afraid to say this. If you want your biscuits, this is the time to say you believe men can be abused just as easily as women. You are supposed to say it is just as bad for a woman to push a man- even if he doesn’t move- as it is for a man to push a woman- even if she falls into a bathtub and hits her head. They are equally bad. It’s violence either way!
You are supposed to say that domestic abuse is a genderless crime. And male victims are too shy to come forward. Depp is helping to change this.
But it’s hard for me to imagine a female using physical force to dominate a man. Even moreso in a case like this where Depp is surrounded by body guards. Not to mention endless money, friends, family, staff, homes, vehicles, planes, yachts, guns, knives etc.
It wouldn’t be impossible. But the only way I could see it happening is if Heard managed to establish a guru-like grip over Depp’s mind. But it is clear from the trial that she was not holding his brain in thrall. Drugs and his demons did that.
Perhaps many do not understand the difference between physical aggression and abuse. Lobbing a ball of socks at someone is not abuse. Punching a man, grabbing a woman’s arm & leaving a bruise, screaming, calling someone a bad name… you can only determine the significance of these events by looking at the larger pattern. If Monica slapped Clinton for gizzing on her dress would that make him a battered husband? Not from my perspective. If she stabbed him through the eye with a pen then we are entering new territory.
Because women can commit acts of violence towards men. They could marry an old man for money then slip poison in his food.
But domestic abuse, imo, is when a person uses intimidation, manipulation, violence & control of resources to establish dominance over their partner, making them unable or unwilling to leave despite bad treatment.
How many men exist who are physically afraid of their wives but too scared to leave? How commonly do women cut off men’s access to money, social contacts and transportation while dominating their bodies and threatening to kill them if they escape?
I’m wincing because the next statement will probably shower hate on me, but it seems possible that trace elements of domination are present in many if not most heterosexual relationships. It’s more than men being stronger, it is also how they are built for war and competition while women obsess over connection, frequently placing them in the role of trying to please.
We try to make things gooey and soft. We want to wear matching pajamas. We glue cotton bears onto a wreath. Men don’t do this. I don’t know why. I’m not judging them for this. I’m just trying to state the obvious in a culture which punishes us for doing so.
Muffin papers. I had planned to start making Business Woman Muffins each morning to sustain me through the day. For a Woman On the Go. That hasn’t happened.
My opponent’s sign encountered while door knocking. Politics is another factor making me feel suppressed. One wrong word could cost me votes.
Especially in a Republican primary. Some conservatives judge you for bad language, sexual language, violent language etc. As though God fast tracks all Scorpios to hell.
A red picture of me to showcase my political dominance and power. I admire red, but also feel it is everything I will never be. Which is why I like to stay near it. Kiss the hand that feeds you.
A picture of stones resting on cotton.
Would you like to watch a two minute video of a dog’s face accompanied by a song about a frog?
Slipper’s name is substituted for Mr. Froggy’s though cause she loves the sound of it. I also like to read her Bible verses where it’s God talking directly to Slippers. “I shall cover Slippers with my feathers, and under my wings Slippers will rest.”
Apparently there is WAY more to running for office than sticking your name on a ballot. Just got a notification that I’m late in filing my Quarterly Finance Report. My WHA??? I don’t even have a bank account! Is there any chance you’ll accept an astrology report instead?
The good part is I’m getting a crash course in practical life skills. I now have a wallet. Containing two credit cards which I don’t know how to use. A phone-watch. Which I don’t know how to use. A personal identification card. I didn’t have this before and it made many things impossible. A few semi-normal outfits from Walmart. And some aquaintances that live in my city. Before I knew no one.
Feeling unpractical has been my greatest source of shame for so long. It made me afraid to interact with people cause I never knew when they would ask for my SK27 number and I would have no idea what they were talking about and then everyone would start laughing at me. And I didn’t know how deep everyone else’s practical skills went. How many forms do they fill out on a daily basis and how many bureaus do they visit? How many sequences of random numbers and letters are stored in their memory and what do they use them for? What cards do they make sure to have on them at all times and who do they show them to?
Even if blood is squirting from your ears it’s not like you can just walk into a hospital with a big wad of cash. You need cards. Papers. Letters. Numbers. Don’t know the square root of pi? “I’m sorry Ms. Aklei, but unless you can recite it to the 33rd digit there’s really nothing we can do. Our hands are tied.”
I don’t even feel confident in my ability to buy groceries. No matter how I position the card it is always the wrong position. Then pictures start flashing on the screen showing what you’re supposed to do but my brain goes into a panic and can’t compute. Then the sirens start going off. “STEP AWAY FROM THE BAGGING AREA!!! MA’AM!! STEP AWAY FROM THE BAGGING AREA NOW!!!! PLACE YOUR HANDS ON YOUR PSYILISUS MUSCLES AND FACE EAST UNTIL AN ATTENDENT ARRIVES!!!!” Fuck, life is complicated. You gotta be so slick to survive.
But for some reason, I can’t even memorize my address. I don’t know why. I memorize songs all the time so I made my address into a little song about dicks but somehow it just slips in and out of my brain. But now I’m sure I will be asked my address constantly. Knowing your address is 50% of politics.
The other 50% is enemies.
I was confused at first because everyone I met seemed like the absolute nicest person of all time. And yet- after an initial period of exhileration- I was starting to have a mental & physical breakdown. I would just lie in bed crying all the time in a state of unbearable tension. I could hardly walk without a cane. I couldn’t write about this because public servants are supposed to be strong. I wanted to drop out so the torture would end but didn’t want to let anyone down.
James suggested my state could be caused by people messing with me. Psychically. Which annoyed me because the last thing you want when feeling overwhelmed is for someone to bring up the astral plane. But he pressed the issue until I finally lit a red candle and recited the 91st Psalm, a classic cure for enemies. And BAM! Just like magic I could walk again. I stopped crying and felt happy. And it occurred to me that most of the universe is currently transiting my House of Secret Enemies. Perhaps it is the case that in politics the majority of enemies are the secret kind.
Door knocking is still fun though and highly recommended. James goes with me. ‘Just be yourself’ he says. ‘Oh but don’t say that.’ ‘You didn’t tell them your name!.’ ‘You can’t make jokes about bribes Julien- you could go to jail!’ ‘Don’t use words relating to violence or murder- people might take you seriously!” It is funny how being taken seriously changes the meaning of what you say. I have never been taken seriously before.
My wallet with an ID inside & two crypto credit cards. I chose this wallet because I am preparing myself for Pluto’s movement into Aquarius which I need to write about ASAP to help people prepare.
I only use crypto money for the same reason. Well, that is also due to Uranus’s passage through Taurus. Obviously almost anything is superior to government controlled currency at this point.
Pansies, geraniums & a gardenia brought inside due to frost. Since my political messaging consists mostly of flowers, I need to have plenty at my own house to avoid seeming like a hypocrite.
I love yellow. My initial theory was that the left went insane due to an insufficient supply of positive yellow in their life.Poppies, forget me nots, canterbury bells & larkspurs. Patton preparing to eat the cardboard. I promise I clean but Patton is constantly shredding things so it never looks like it.Pausing for a manspread.
Hi. I have been blocked from facebook again. For inciting violence. A person asked what I would do if a man hit me & I said I would try to kick him in the balls then duck and scream. Or something like that.
So they suspended me for one month followed by a month of shadow banning. They said their decision can’t be contested because Covid- 19. Of course. I am going to have to find a way to break free of this abusive platform.
They SAY I can disagree. But when I try they say I can’t. Cause Covid. Also, fwiw, I would never kick a man in the nuts in real life. It would be dangerous.
This is extra annoying because I have an election in one month and was using my account to connect with hundreds of voters. How can this be legal now that social media is the new platform through which humans speak?
In other news… door knocking is turning out to be the funnest thing ever. The majority of people open their doors and each one is cuter than the last. To say hi and hand each cutie a magnet- it is a great feeling. Like pollinating flowers. Sometimes you forget how refreshing the airy side of life can be.
And since I’ve realized 95% of voters don’t care about my positions, I simplified the door hanger accordingly. I don’t want to forcibly insert my opinions where they aren’t wanted. Instead, they are tucked away on a webpage where people can access them if they wish. If you visit this page and have any questions or unfulfilled needs, let me know.
I chose a picture where I am a fading dot because I can’t yet bear to be the person knocking on doors to hand people a giant photo of my own face. It’s too much. I need things to feel right or I can’t do them.
In high school, for example, I couldn’t understand chemistry. It was a bunch of squiggles. The chemical smells, rough textures, dry air, fluorescent lighting, cinder block walls, impersonal communication style. No. But as an adult learning chemistry was fun because I could control the aesthetics. I had my pink calculator, a notebook with puppies in a flower basket, a smoothly laminated periodic table (I hate touching all dry and scratchy things besides whiskers), and a lemon candle- representing crisp intelligence. Ahhhh… paradise. Suddenly I could easily compute things that had been nonsensical before.
I am approaching politics the same way. It is far outside my wheelhouse but James really wanted me to and I do what he says cause I be dumb like that. But by applying my own aesthetics the task becomes enjoyable. I have my flower magnets, my floral bag, the cuteness of the people, the beauty of the sky and the newness of the neighborhoods. I’m also inspired by the fact that (astrologically) I am scheduled for a fall from grace in around 2.5 years and politics could be a great way to accomplish this. Maybe I’ll pull a mini Weiner and go down with a perverted sex scandal. Then retreat, tail between my legs, to write songs in a little pink house by the ocean.
And of course I feel inspired by the chance to take a stand for the things I care about. But what are those things? The 50,000 questionnaires I have received from various interest groups have made me realize that politics does not really boil down to specific positions or even principles.
It is more like making a soup. If it’s burning, you turn down the heat. When it gets too thick you add water. It is hard to take an absolute stand on whether you or for or against adding more black pepper because it is so context specific. The goal is to have a society which maximizes personal freedom, while also having the law, order, and security on which functional freedom depends.
While I agree with the principles behind legalizing marijuana for example, I also can’t help but notice that it is a drug famous for increasing many of the qualities already threatening to topple our society. Passivity. Lack of drive. Fruity thinking. Could we legalize cocaine instead and save the pot discussion for 2025? Maybe people will have regained some vigor by then and it will be more clear how marijuana fits into the scheme of things.
When it comes down to it, I’m not a woman of principles. I’m a Black 8.
“I’ll serve you in the house like I serve my husband in the house.”
Don’t go insane; don’t pull your hair Don’t you play the fool you poor poor girl now. The sky is dark; the stars are dots They are hiding in a black black swirl now.
You always knew that people smile They extend their hand but don’t take it no no. Because this life is never what it appears to be When you’re crawling so low.
Don’t let his hand reach for your heart- Have you asked yourself why he needs a friend? Because he likes to hurt them.
Some people lie; they like to smile And they’ll say the sweetest things that you crave You’re lying down; you’re getting soft You’re refusing to see things in a new way
From every side he’s moving in and you’re Lying there but where can you go now? You close your eyes imagining a new place Where life could be different somehow.
Don’t let his hand inside your chest- Have you asked yourself why he needs a friend? Because he likes to hurt them.
You’ll stand alone; you’ll find a way You won’t need nobody, no one, no no. The sky is dark; the moon is grey In that kind of way nothing’s certain oh no.
Crawl to the door, then stop & freeze- Have you asked yourself why he needs a friend? Because he likes to hurt them.
In my mind you walk beside me in the sun Standing like a fire between myself and everyone. Hold me in your arms I feel the yellow falling down. You are my ground.
Brown. Orange. Packed. Worn. Product of the clay where you were born.
Then one day you push me and I‘m falling back. Rolling over, over down into the black. Open up my eyes to find a world of liquid blue. Where are you? There’s no ground.
Spinning now. Spinning around. Grasping for whatever seems to be the ground. Unknown. Scorned. Tossed away from clay you were born.
One day I will find my way to solid shore. Fingers sinking into mud scared no more Sinking into earth is where the body can renew. My earth is you.
Strong. Sad. Sometimes crazy sometimes mad. Fighting one day overcome and soar Far away from clay where you were born.
I haven’t written here in a long time because as usual I’ve been swallowed up by various obsessions.
Obsessing over how to become the most practical person that ever lived. But after weeks of agonizing all I could think of was to reorganize my mineral collection. By chemical properties rather than colors. I’m not sure how much this increases my chances of survival but at least it felt manly.
I’ve been learning more about geology in general though sedimentary rocks are the bane of my existence. They seem supernaturally boring. I like minerals much more than rocks. Things such as fossils bore me to tears. Although the aversion then causes a weird attraction since boredom itself is one of the things which fascinates me. I find boring subjects, items & people magnetically attractive. I can’t endure their presence long though before I start to lose consciousness.
Obsessing over building more base notes & deep colors into my personality. Probably because I imagine this will make me more practical & able to survive. Plus, I worry that if my aura is too light & high I will drain others of their vital substance. So each morning I spent a few minutes trying to sing the deepest notes I could.
Obsessing over controlling the universe through magic. I won’t even bother discussing this one except to say that it didn’t work. And also, that magic has nothing to do with wicca or spells or kettles or frogs. It is just about harnessing the energy that already flows through the universe to make it work for you. Just like electricity, water turbines & nuclear power. The universe is complicated though so I never get very far.
Obsessing over male psychology in the hopes of more smoothly co-existing with Black Licorice (husband) also known as The Godfather. Haven’t made much progress with this either. I’m just hoping the more practical I get, the more things will fall into place.
So as usual, all my obsessions fail & I eventually come crawling back on my knees to music as a source of comfort. And this time politics too, as a source of discomfort. I am running for state delegate. James wanted me to do it. I didn’t realize it entailed anything beyond slapping your name on a ballot, so oops.
Door knocking has turned out to be fun though. The stressful part is that Black Licorice wants to go door knocking with me. He does not want me to go by myself. But he is rarely up and dressed before nightfall. So what to do? Play the good female, go with the flow & accept that I lose? Be the bossy lady & attempt to drag him out of bed early accepting the consequences? Or go by myself while he is sleeping & just don’t tell him? I don’t know what is right.
Until recently I didn’t understand why anyone cared about females entering politics. Now I kind of get it. There are issues that specifically impact women. And men- being more geared to action than introspection- aren’t necessarily going to think these issues through from a female point of view.
Recently I’ve been dealing with the issue of abortion, for example, since this is the biggest reason many women won’t vote Republican & I am hoping to bring more women into the Republican party. I think it isn’t just the stance that bothers women but the callous framing of it. (“She knew what she was doing when she spread her legs.” is a statement I have heard a lot recently.) To my surprise, in the conservative framework, the responsibility of not having sex & also birth control lies solely on the woman. If she gets pregnant & suffers greatly as a result she deserves it. Cause she spread her legs.
Meanwhile, the vast majority of pro-life men EXPECT women to have sex before marriage and would not date them if they didn’t. (By their own admission.) They believe in free love. I cannot square these two positions. She shouldn’t have spread her legs. But she is expected to spread her legs. When I suggest that not fornicating should be part of a pro-life stance, they say what goes on in the bedroom is nobody’s business. I tried to float making fornication illegal but no one would go for it. This would restrict their freedom, their choice, which suddenly became more important than “The Slaughter of the Innocents.”
In addition, they do not believe it is their job to marry the mother of their child, which is the only arrangement under which pro-life makes sense to me. You can’t just funnel women into single motherhood regardless of their ability to cope. But the men felt this idea was totally coo coo. Getting married should be their choice. And she knew damn well what she was doing when she spread her legs. None would support a pro-life bill that declared the mother & father to be married by natural law.
Even worse, men were not willing to be compelled to be implanted with a uterus to carry the baby themselves if this became necessary to save it’s life. You can’t force someone to do that! It should be their choice!!!
Color me disillusioned.
Although I will say the conservative women seemed willing to take the blame and suffer to live out their values. I don’t know why they don’t expect more of the men. Except I do. Men like you better when you don’t challenge them. Challenging them rarely works out in your favor anyway. The worse of a mood James is in the more I find myself complimenting him, serving him & agreeing with everything he says. It’s just a self-protective instinct.
The only difference between me and conservative ladies is they feel good about their submission to men because they see it as a virtue. I see mine more as a failing, or a survival decision at best. Cause I believe the world gets better when women are willing to speak and men are willing to listen. But this is hard for both of them. Maybe the only way women can pull this off is to band together. Many great changes in the world have happened as a result of female movements and associations.
Anyway, since all the planets have been travelling through my house of possessions, please allow me to share with you a few possessions I have acquired.
Keys. Although I’ve lived in this house for 4 years, I only now got my own key & key chain. Two actually. (The one on the right was sent to me by mistake & not a fabric I would choose though I have grown to love it.)
A bag. Owning this bag has been my dream for l10 years and now I have it.
Finally a phone which I will need it for the politics thing. I haven’t had a phone in years.
A windowsill full of cars & motorcycles. Hoping this causes a new car to appear in real life. Our current car has a smashed out window & no brakes. The stickers are so old that every car ride includes a cop chase. Black Licorice drives the car wearing glasses that have only ONE lens- a scratched lens- & he attaches them to his head with dental floss. This makes me nervous especially since he frequently goes through a wide range of emotions while driving.
Sunglasses- they are sitting on my head. I associate sunglasses with practical people who run around doing things and need to keep the sun out of their eyes. And after getting them I actually have started running around doing things trying to keep the sun out of my eyes. That is the Kanawha river.
Have to include this photo of Patton since it is the first one that captures his true nature. He is an aggressive dog & highly protective.
Slippers, the half-blood hound. She is my soft thing but has hurt her leg.
My political magnets that I am handing out while door knocking. I love anything with small flowers on it.
And the flowers are symbolic too. While I’m running as a Republican, I don’t represent conservatism, but the desire to preserve freedom so humans can continue to be organic creatures with feelings & thoughts running free, not drones of the phallocracy.
White is the beginning. Life has a solid structure. Ideals are clear & shining. There is a road that leads to the place one is going. Life is pure. You look ahead of you and see that things will stay pure forever. You are a good person.
Black is the middle. Nothing makes sense anymore. There are roads, but they are tangled up and none of them lead anywhere. None of them are pure. Your moral structures, your ideals, none of them shed any light on the choices confronting you. You are lost and forced to choose between poisons as you wander in circles.
Gold is the end. The road did lead somewhere after all. Now you look back. You can see the meaning of the black and of the white. Your journey is over but you have gained something you will keep forever. What began as idealism has turned into wisdom. Wisdom is the place where ideals and reality meet. You will take this wisdom with you to your new beginning, when you go back to the white and start to dream again.
These three phases exist in all things and circulate through our lives on a micro and macro level. All three phases must happen for evolution to occur.
But sometimes people get stuck in the white. They don’t want to leave purity behind to wander in the muck. You see this in Christians and Romantics.
Christians try to control their beliefs, their thoughts, their emotions, their actions, their sexuality. They believe that if they entered the black there would be no end to it- nothing on the other side. They don’t want to leave the purity. Sometimes they choose death over dirty hands, believing they will go to heaven this way but they won’t. Because heaven is gold. Unless you wander in the darkness you will never get there. You will simply be reborn right where you left off, in white- the world of beginnings.
Romantics are the same. They love the purity of a love that is shiny and new but shrink in horror from a love that has been touched by shit and grime. But this cannot be. Nothing can live in the white world for long. There is no sustenance there. We get our food from killing and money from playing games. We deceive and destroy to survive. If we are unwilling to do the dark deeds ourselves we attach to those who will do them for us. Then they touch us with their dirty hands. Nothing can stay clean, not even love. Not if it wants to live.
But the Romantic cannot bear this. They discard their tarnished penny and search for a shiny new one. They are trapped in white. The world of endless repetition.
There are dangers in the black world as well. In the white world, we were guided by belief structures. When these crack and we are wandering directionless, it is tempting to reach for darker beliefs. But this isn’t the time to build new mental structures because they will only reflect our pain, not the truth. In the dark world all roads are twisted. You see only a few feet ahead of you. You have to keep struggling, fighting, digging. This is no time to make sense of it all. You have no distance. And if you allow dark structures to be erected in your mind these can keep you trapped in the dark world forever. That is hell.
Gold has dangers too. You don’t want to reach it prematurely. Gold is the harvest- once you reach it, the time for growth is over. Think of artists struggling to create under the weight of being star, icon & hero. Think of the person so dignified they can hardly move. Gold is a fixative. The journey has ended and now it is safe to sit in comfort and extract the lessons from all that has happened. But until enough experiences have taken place there will not be much wisdom to extract.
Another danger is to skip to the gold phase altogether. To start a war, to fight it, then immediately to start the next one. There has to be a pause. A time when you look backwards to process all that has happened. Now the game has ended and you can see how all the pieces fit together. What was worthwhile & what wasn’t? When a person actively sifts through their experiences, their next new beginning will start at a higher level than before. Gold causes us to ascend. It forms the stairway to heaven.
His hands upon me I was spun around. Tripping over my feet through the softly fading town
Brother no… nobody leads the way Brother no… nobody leads the way
He turns towords me when the evening shines His hands upon my head I’ll wait until my time
Brother no….. nobody leads the way Brother no….. nobody leads the way
First it seems to be a no go Then he tells you things will fade away All the while the winds begin to blow And so you stumble on the way
I know nothing’s gonna make up your mind now love This is just a matter of fact I try putting all my thoughts in a line although This will never bring him back.
His arm around my neck I start to smile We’ll watch the clouds pass by just for a little while
Brother oh…… I’ll let you lead the way Brother oh…. I’ll let you lead the way
First it seems to be a rainbow Then he tells me it’s a cloud of gray All the while the fog begins to grow so you will Wander through the day
I know nothing’s gonna make up your mind now love This is just a matter of fact I try putting all my thoughts in a line although This will never bring him back.
He holds me up against the wall til I can fly Scenes of peaceful villages fade in & out of mind
Brother no… I’ll let you lead the way Brother no… I’ll let you lead the way.
First he tells you its a no no Then he tells me I must seize the day All the while the clouds begin to grow And they grow colder on the way
I know nothing’s gonna make up your mind now love. This is just a matter of fact. I try putting all my thoughts in a line although This will never bring him back.
