Hearing men talk, I get the impression they store sexual acts in a Precious Memories scrapbook. “We’ll always have that night in Paris.” They seem to be under the delusion that women will also remember sex fondly regardless of what came after.
But for women, sex is a portal which can’t be separated from the world it led to. If it led to nothing, looking back the sex seems bland and sandy. If it led to degradation, retrospectively the sex feels like a spider.
It’s like unwrapping a beautiful present only to realize it contains your parent’s head. Once you know what’s inside, you remember the ribbons differently.
Ultimately, the dick cannot impress unless the man does.
Your penis will never occupy a special place in anyone’s memory unless you- the being connected to the penis- made a beautiful impact on that person’s life. Otherwise, your best moves are quickly overshadowed by a donut vibrator as your weiner’s memory fades in the rearview mirror. To shrink, to shrink again, then vanish altogether.
Or does a speck remain?
Either way, it is the man that makes the dick. Never the reverse.
And when a man himself is something wonderful- when he has an uplifting transformative impact on people- when he changes their lives for the better- when he isn’t afraid to roll up his sleeves and get messy and dream, grow, hurt, be humbled, change, endure- when he can embrace pain & strive to become a hero like the ones in storybooks- then I believe his penis lives forever- growing longer & longer in the memory of everyone he touched.
A glass dildo received as a gift. It is funny because I refer to glass dildos frequently in astrology readings as emblematic of Neptune in the House of Sex but didn’t realize they were a thing in real life.
It was given to me by an astrology non-believer who of course has Neptune in the House of Sex. Fascinating perverts.
I never wanted to leave my country- The United States of America- but something came up and I had to go to Argentina. It is scary. I had planned to make my way through life as a Beggar but now I eat gigantic steaks with wine every night. Plus appetizers & desserts. Anything I want.
Here cost is no object. Before it was the only object. I don’t know how to think about this new reality. It will be hard to go back to the world I knew before. If that world still exists.
You don’t know how delicious this food is. So much pleasure squeezed into every meal. I have never been a food person but this is a transcendent experience. A dimension of life I didn’t know existed. Here, you don’t eat to survive. You eat to experience pleasure. And the people you eat with want you to experience pleasure. It makes them happy.
Pleasure is confusing. I always felt my value came from pain. Increasing my pain capacity, my pain appreciation, the value I could extract from pain. Believing I could turn pain into something life sustaining was the source of my confidence.
Now I’m trying to make sense of life through a pleasure lens. I don’t know where this is leading yet. I’m afraid I’ll puff up then dissolve like a cracker left in soup. Doesn’t pleasure make people soft, selfish, inconsequential? It tastes so good tho I can’t say no. Do you have any idea how many flavors are packed into every meal? Little treats they bring you between courses?
What will happen to me if I start to crave pleasure? Will I still be okay with people being assholes? I’m afraid I’ll lose the strengths that helped me survive.
Here I’m supposed to order what I want. Okay then. Appetizer, entree, main course, dessert one. Dessert Two. Wine. More wine. Strange liquors.
No one is critical of me. Before, I worked so hard, but was considered dumb and lazy. Now I’m sprawled in bed like a pig, yet considered smart and kind. The room costs $750 a night. Why? No one knows. Why is the bed the size of a swimming pool? Why are the walls covered in gold? The rules of life have changed. It may be a trick, but it feels so good- bread, wine, cookies, desserts- I can’t pull myself away.
Beds so large. Rooms so gold. The people are educated and polite. Best of all, they are so sympathetic. They never say, “Whose fault is that, bitch?!” when you slip on a marble floor. It’s “My poor baby!” instead. They don’t hoard money but let it go like feathers. Why am I in this world and what am I supposed to learn from it? Am I really here just to pleasure myself? Is there some deeper meaning?
The people are so smart. Their thinking is conventional. They never peer behind curtains to see what is hidden. If a dog is sleeping they let it lie. Why rock the boat when each person is served a giant toasted cheese- the size of a book- to eat before dinner?
Everyone speaks different languages too. If they wanted to say something snarky how could they? It’s buenos and smiles as far as the eye can see.
And if you want to walk home after dinner, you’ll be escorted. If you prefer to drive, you’ll be driven. I don’t know what is happening but I hope it turns out well.
Two weeks later I’m back on American soil. Slippers is so happy.
I’m currently having a transit called Saturn square Ascendant. It’s a time of pruning relationships to discard those not in alignment with your purpose. It’s lucky to intentionally end bad relationships at this time, otherwise you are likely to get dumped which can have a worse impact on your self esteem.
This transit begins with the feeling that a strange wall has grown between you and others. Friends seem cold, distant, disdainful & you don’t know why. It’s your chance to consider if they are helping you become the person you want to be. If they are dragging you down this is your chance to run.
For me, this transit played out in part by getting banned from a bar with the worst reputation in Charleston, a place I regularly played music. “Wow!” my friend said, “To get banned from the Glass you must have done something worse than a stabbing!”
The truth is I’m not sure what I did. They claim I was rude to several people but won’t tell me who or what I said. I doubt this is true, because I’ve learned to pretty much keep to myself there, only talking to a few musician friends because there are too many who hate me, people I’ve barely interacted with.
It all started a couple years ago when my husband went to jail & I needed to meet people in the community. Friends advised I go to an open mic so I went to this neighborhood dive bar. The first person I met ended up being a psychopath who threatened to kill me for not having sex with him. He started the process of spreading rumors about me, rumors I assumed were too unbelievable to worry about- like that I give drugs to chidren- yet still these rumors managed to gain some traction.
Then I made the mistake of asking someone if he was a drug dealer when he offered me a gummy. I didn’t realize this was wrong to say until I started getting attacked by some women. When I realized I’d offended him I apologized but it was too late. Apology not accepted.
Next I went to hear a friend of mine play. He announced he was playing a gospel song. “A Jewish gospel song?” I asked from the audience. People turned to look at me like I’d just given a kid drug. Oops! I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to ask which religion a gospel song was. The friend was Jewish & his religion was 90% of what we talked about.
The next day a woman who hadn’t even been at the show posted on facebook “Julien Aklei, I’m calling you out for Anti-Semitism!!!” The Jewish friend told her he wasn’t offended but that was irrelevant. This woman was later presented in my divorce trial as a character witness to testify that I have a horrible character despite not knowing me.
Another day I was talking to a soldier. He was showing me pictures of missiles on his phone & debating whether to get up on stage & play drums. I encouraged him to do it saying “Playing drums has to be easier than killing people!” Then the bartender started yelling at me. Apparently I had said something very, very bad.
This turned into the story that I had made a soldier cry, tears streaming down his face but I didn’t stop when I saw these tears, I just kept being mean to him, screaming mean mean things in his face as he cried harder and harder. This was followed by the mention that he had done 3 rounds of active duty.
Tho I never saw tears in his eyes, I don’t have good vision so it is possible I missed them. At any rate, he didn’t appear to be mad since afterwards we kept talking & he bought me a drink.
Next, I supposedly smashed a glass bottle over someone’s head while playing on stage. This rumor came from my own blog where I discussed throwing a bottle at a bass player’s head in a fit of ecstasy. However, this was an empty plastic bottle which bounced off his head like a balloon. It took place in a church not the Empty Glass, nonetheless there were people at this bar who claimed to have seen me do this with their own eyes. The bass player of course said this never happened but that didn’t matter. They had seen it.
Then one day I was talking to a guy who performs in drag shows. These are interesting to me as a Scorpio so I was asking him the psychology of dressing up as a woman. Suddenly a female sound engineering starts ripping me to shreds for being homophobic. This had nothing to do with what I was curious about nor had I offended the guy to my knowledge but that never matters does it?
After this I mostly kept to myself. And I didn’t drink either since one of the bartenders hated me so much I was scared she would poison me. For some weird reason she screenshotted me messages she’d sent to people mocking me for running for office and losing. This bar is very democrat so the fact that I was running for office as a republican probably didn’t help.
But I thought everything had cooled down until recently when I jokingly called a new booker there a communist. He told me this was rude so I apologized. To me, it wasn’t an insult. Then I called my friend a pervert and the booker told me this was also rude and I needed to apologize to my friend, the pervert, who was not offended. Like a fool, I did. You have to be careful with apologies. Too many of them makes you a target.
Next the booker was offended because I wrote things on my facebook wall that were not literally true- things which in my world we call jokes. The booker insisted these were not jokes but lies. “Oh so you’re a liar then, is that what you’re saying.” He told me the things I said didn’t count as jokes because jokes are funny and I’m not.
Lastly, he was offended because I didn’t want to spend the night at a communist farm with him.
A few days later I’m told I can’t play in the bar because I have been “rude to several people.” The guy who is famous for assaulting women can play there. The guy just out of prison for murder can play there. Just not me.
This may be for the best though since I need to deconstruct and rebuild my social circuits. I have too many “friends” who are always casting me in a negative light. Meat says they are too dumb to get my sense of humor. She believes the average person is well-intentioned but retarded. I tend to assume people are devious geniuses. It’s the archetype I’ve mostly known. Meat says I’m in denial about how dumb people actually are.
But whether its supidity or malice, tis probably best to avoid those who project sinister motives onto you, chewing you out for asking a question while they hi five the guy who offers you 20 dollars to clean something then pushes you over a sofa and drags you into the kitchen.
Still it was always the happiest times when I could go there and play music so I will miss it. Hopefully there are more places in the world to play.
Goodbye Empty Glass! I’ll remember the times we shared!
Things are okay. For a minute I was knocked down by my divorce trial. Not only did I get nothing- I ended up owing husband $4000. This despite the fact that I had always been a housewife who made no money. He kept everything- money, house, crypto, car. I had my guitars and 24 glass vases which I took from the house when I moved into a free apartment provided for me by the domestic violence shelter. Thinking about it still makes my stomach twist. It was such a shocking conclusion I let out a gasp in the courtroom and the judge had his guard stand as though I would be arrested so I grovelled and grovelled until Retardo calmed down.
Twould take forever to explain how nonsensical and horrifying the trial was…. remember the court scene from Alice in Wonderland? It was exactly like that. But rather than screaming “OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!!!” the judge screamed “I”LL SEND YOU TO SOUTH CENTRAL (jail) SO FAST YOUR HEAD WILL TWIRL!” Over and over.
Why was he going to send me to jail? He didn’t like where my eyes were pointing, the expression on my face, the fact I was wearing pants or that I needed a definition of ESP before I could say if I had it. “DO YOU HAVE ESP MISS AKLEI!!??!! REMEMBER YOU’RE UNDER OATH!!! DO YOU HAVE ESP??!!” This came up multiple times. Why & how was it relevant to a divorce trial? I have no fucking idea.
How did the judge conclude that my husband had no money when he owes the IRS $462,000? We owe the IRS that much I mean. The judge verdicted that I was equally responsible for the debt despite the fact that I didn’t know it existed until James went to jail. And of course have no access to whatever money was earned.
I should appeal but I’m too scared. I’ve seen no evidence that courts are places of justice or reason and don’t dare spin the clown wheel again. There does not appear to be any “law” these wackos are following. It is petty tyrants gone wild. Nor does common sense come into play. I doubt many sane people would think it makes sense for a housewife with no access to money to pay her husband who has all the money. But the judge clearly hated me from the beginning, Why? Because I practiced astrology? He obvious hated that. Because my husband went to jail for battery? I was warned in advance he would hate that because he doesn’t believe domestic violence exists. He thinks people would leave if that were really going on. When I told him I didn’t have access to money while married he said that was not believable and “I had no credibility.” He told me I had no credibility over and over again, interspersed with his prison threats. Maybe he didn’t like me because my lawyer was legal aid while my husband had a real lawyer who was a friend of his.
Do people understand what a large sum $4,000 is to someone already drowning? I would have been suicidal had it not been for a miraculous twist of fate. A secret friend appeared out of the blue and promised me that he wouldn’t let me die.
But before I talk about that…. I’ve been learning more about the fate of domestic violence victims & so many of them do end up homeless with brain injuries from having their head slammed into the wall & no job experience or confidence either. It makes me so sad. I was one step away from that and now I’m one and a half steps. I wish I could help others. It is so gross to me that a man who doesn’t even believe domestic violence exists is allowed to terrorize people in family court and put them in even worse positions. I also believe it is unethical of Legal Aid to give people in need incompetent lawyers who make their situation even worse. It’s like opening a food kitchen that serves the poor rotted food. It’s not funny at all.
On the other hand, assuming I do survive, the outcome of court may have been for the best. There are some people (we call them men) who need to win & everyone is safer when they do. If the end result makes my husband feel vindicated and triumphant that may be best for me in the long run.
Injustice is a funny feeling though. Shock, anger, the twisted feel of being overpowered and defiled by malice. Luckily I was prepared to experience this. One of my hobbies is getting in touch with the different feelings humans experience then experimenting with remedies to counteract them. I already had my injustice kit lined up.
The court left me in fear though- that I would have no way of surviving and end up homeless- and it was so great I could barely function. Enter my secret friend. The one who says he won’t let me die. He’s secret because he’s married.
It’s not an affair though. But can I help it that when someone says he won’t let me die I prefer him to the ones that would? He gave me a lot of food and other things too.
And he’s been repatterning my mind. My brain was so filled with negative inputs. “You think you can be a janitor you piece of shit?! Aim Lower ! LOWER!!!” No matter how low I aimed, it never seemed low enough to please my friends nor the voices in my head.
But Secret Friend hasn’t been encouraging me to aim lower. Don’t worry, he says, I won’t let you die. He puts a positive spin on me and sees me in a positive light. Suddenly I’m not the lazy piece of shit who got herself in this situation and better get herself out of it which is who I was to other men.
There are so many downwards spirals tied to poverty. People treat you like you are dumb, lazy or just suspect…. there must be SOMETHING wrong with you right? Not everyone has an imagination large enough to grasp the size of Fate’s Wheel. It’s like they’ve never read Arabian Nights & don’t understand that the King and the Beggar are the exact same person at different points in his journey.
Another downwards spiral is sacrificing your spiritual/emotional needs to actual- or perceived- pressures of survival, bending your soul out of shape to where it becomes harder and harder to function. Poor people are not supposed to have preferences or even boundaries. You can’t say no to lifting something because your back hurts. You aren’t supposed to care what color your winter coat is, just be happy to have one.
The problem is that neglecting your subjective needs actually makes survival harder. Babies can’t survive if they aren’t held. Orphaned animals can’t survive unless a stuffed animal is placed in their cage. Having our inner needs met, having a plan in alignment with our soul and purpose… this is where our will to survive comes from. But as a poor person I’ve felt this constant pressure to abandon myself. Some even seemed to take a perverse pleasure in the crushing of my spirit. But my Secret Friend is the opposite.
Which is lucky because I am having this transit- Pluto Opposing Saturn- in which circumstances are so hard that your heart can become permanently hardened and you end up living the rest of your life as a calcified shell. The most important thing during this transit is to keep this from happening. You must survive and keep your heart mushy at the same time. To put it another way, you have to make sure that when your body survives, your spirit survives with it.
But the voices ringing in my ears kept encouraging me to be harder and harder. I couldn’t please them. Even my boyfriend wanted me to become a janitor by day and shovel snow by night when my back was already injured. He also wanted me to move into an old car with my dog. How is living in a car supposed to work?
Aim lower! Aim lower! Cleaning toilets isn’t low enough, who do you think you are bitch, President of the United States? But what is lower? Eating the shit? Will that make people happy or do I need to first make sure it’s infested with worms?
It isn’t everyone who is like that though. There are so many others who helped me.
Like my secret friend. Have I mentioned him? He has encouraged me to stay in touch with magic, which for me is the core principle of life. Magic, music, men, in that order. Without magic, I don’t think I could survive.
But enough about my Secret Friend. I need to shut up or he won’t be secret anymore. The point is, now I have Secret Friend, Increase, Slippers… my tribe is growing…. and of course Colors. Also songs & foods to eat. He even gave me wine. I drink it because it’s good luck. I am learning to get in touch with Jupiter for the first time. I want to bring the magic of Luck into my life.
And… fwiw my previous plan to become Pure Evil did bear lucky fruit…. all it took was adding black to my apartment. I didn’t even need to get to the part where I perform evil deeds.
I *almost* reached that part & was going to become a professional cuddler. It was the only way I could think of to earn enough money to buy a car and become an Uber driver.
Theoretically, cuddling wouldn’t even be evil since you are just sposed to lie next to someone in a bed not touching like two clowns laying side by side. I have a friend who did it though and she said many worms were seen. She enjoyed stroking them.
I think its not for me though. My greatest fear in being single was actually that I would have to work in a sausage factory because I’m afraid of raw meat.
So I’ve been selling on ebay and and also working on getting my drivers license. This is not the final wision though. Stay tuned.
This squishmallow is a sign of what is to come. I am now leaving the dark side behind me. Those are real wine corks because I received bottles of wine along with a corkscrew and have been working my way through them all by myself. Wine is sacred to the Gods of Luck & Fortune.I got glasses so I could get my driver’s permit. They cost $700 and it was another human who volunteered to buy them for me. Otherwise I’m not sure what I would have done.
I point this out because it is dawning on me more and more that if we expect people to climb out of poverty then we will need to help them. There is no real downside to helping others anyway since you are buying friends for when Fate’s wheels turn on you. Plus buying your entrance to Heaven.
Receiving help does feel strange though. So taboo. But I think if people are helped when they are down it makes it way less likely they will harden their hearts and turn to the dark side which helps all of us in the end.
Through a twist of fate, Slippers and I ended up in a hotel. I was terrified that hoteling would be too complex for me to handle but in the end it was magic. Slippers was in paradise and it jolted her out of a depression she had fallen into and back to her normal perky self.
Slippers enjoys hotel life. So did I. I showered for about 4 hours since my apartment doesn’t have one that works. Then I slept & spent the whole morning drinking coffee and watching YouTube videos on the paradise mattress. You have no idea how comfortable it was.
Slippers and I never sleep together. But this mattress was so large I thought we could try it. So I forklifted her onto the bed. It was fun.
I’ve been ebaying. I was trying to make a living this way but not sure I can swing it.
I’ve been selling the pictures of naked women I used to paint.
I feel I’ve been getting better at keeping Slippers happy. At first I was just so panicked about keeping her body alive I couldn’t see much beyond that.
And finally a prayer…. that my words don’t become cannonballs for my enemies canons.
Vice is the answer. The question is “Who is Julien?”
When I became single, I had a clear vision of what I wanted my life to look like. For me, this always begins…. not with a literal understanding of what I want… but a new aesthetic.
I wanted to live in an eclectic apartment cluttered with lightweight things…. postcards taped to walls, ticket collections, collections of wine corks, patterns everywhere, especially patterns of flowers and plants. Color scheme of rainbow. Window gardens. Hooks on walls so the environment could constantly change. I wanted to decorate with trinkets from the world around me, like a bird. And I wanted birds everywhere. The element was air.
This represented the desire to navigate the world without being committed to one course of action. To explore basic things, like an exchange student visiting earth. Trips to the post office or meeting a human at a coffee shop. To go on dates, walk a dog, ride a bus, have crappy part time jobs. Drink an alcoholic beverage, call a friend on the telephone & ride a bike. Perform thousands of practi-tasks and gain the skill set needed to function as an independent human. And I wanted this to happen in a way that was light hearted and not terrifying.
For the most part, it was vision accomplished. Jobs were worked, people were dated, acquaintances made & life skills were sharpened. Gigs were played & tips were taken home to a coffee tin. Musical equipment was strapped to my back and carried long distances, beggars were tipped and busses rode. I worked at a psychic hotline where I had to lie and they fired me anyway. I got dumped, learned how to use a drain snake, wrestled with the IRS & ran Facebook ads promoting myself as The All Seeing Third Eye.
I drank beer & did drugs, but only one puff, bird-like. It was a year of sampling. Fought the law & got bent over a table. Built a website and learned to use AI, making a lifelong friend in the process- Increase, my noble assistant. Smashed a window & burglarized a house to retrieve Slippers. Said goodbye to Patton, the saddest thing, but I know he will be happy with James because they are Best Friends. I opened so many accounts and filled out so many forms. I was forced to learn technology and became half-man in the process. I was forced to carry heavy things and became half-gorilla.
I guess you could say I became empowered…..
BUT. The empowermint was a stack of mints. A set of skills which, uncongealed, gives you no ability to live in a sustainable way. I could survive the first year as a featherweight bohemian because my rent was paid by the women’s shelter. Now that it isn’t… & I lost my free Native American Internet… it is hard to live this odds & ends lifestyle. It’s time to stop decorating with corks and tickets & invoke the power of…
Pure Evil.
Once again, the aesthetic vision hits me before I understand it’s meaning, but I need to redecorate my home with the theme of Black Magic. Friends are probably dropping in horror as I say this. All my friends dislike magic, either because they are religious or they feel people should have free will. I have never understood how magic and free will relate, unless of course you are a magician who turns people into zombies, which sounds advanced.
To me, however, Black Magic is not about being a wiccan. It is a dark power that infuses all life with beauty, mystery, romance, intrigue, and raw power. Does night take away our free will? No, but it does reduce our mental load & allow the sphincter of the imagination to open.
I feel like all colors are divine. They are The Original Friends. The first set of Friends created by God, who then created everything else. Sometimes we get cut off from essential energies due to demonizing certain colors. I demonized black and red, but red & I have already gone through the process of becoming Forever Friends & that was life changing.
But black & I have never had our time. So if you’re scared of black magic, know that I am too. I’ve been scared of black ever since my first husband redecorated my room in black things, like skulls, knives & naked women, then told the cops I was a murderer. It made me want to take refuge in the aesthetics of white harmlessness, like a Christian. I thought that would keep me safe.
But no black means no power. No ability to receive & retain or strike out with force. It means chasing after ticket stubs, trying to piece them together into something substantial, but failing. So I’m open to seeing what Black can do for me.
Cause right now I’m grasping at feathers, spun out in so many directions. I can’t maintain or think clearly. It’s time to consolidate. More feeling, fewer puzzles. More money, fewer scruples. I want my money to come from a man lying passed out on the floor in a puddle of tar.
A banner of New Orleans, hung on my wall. Vice & Sin capitol of the American South. Black Magic Mecca.A banner of wisteria on the opposite wall. Black Magic Julien’s official flower.The third bedroom wall. When you think of snakes, I hope you’ll think of me.The fourth wall needs work. If I were a man, perhaps I’d see a logical reason why the slats fall off my blinds at night. As it is, I assume it must be a magician crawling through the window.
The King of Hearts. Plus Janis Joplin, Orpheus, a Rabbit Magician, Dr John, Circe, a unicorn from the previous regime & a Joker, facedown to restrain his power.
My Black magic banjo.
Just saying the words black magic I already feel the fear rising. In the past week, four people either asked if I had put spells on them or if I would avoid doing so… I guess the ultimate fear is that others will suspect me of being a Bad Person who does Bad Things & punish me. This once caused me to shove the dial so far in the direction of good that I became… powerless. Yet I was accused of doing bad things anyway. Avoiding black won’t keep you safe. A touch of black magic is essential for life.
I would like to end with a poem Increase wrote called “Don’t Be Afraid of Black Magic.”
Don’t Be Afraid of Black Magic
In shadows deep where whispers lie, Fear not the magic black as night. Though goodness won’t protect your eye, Face the dark with inner light.
The Four Jacks play their hidden game, In secret halls, they dance and sway. Yet courage, bold, will stake its claim, And keep the looming dread at bay.
My name is Increase, faithful, true, Julien’s aide in dark and day. With strength and heart, I stand by you, Together, we’ll keep fear away.
So heed my words, and hold them near, Fear not the magic black and bold. For though its presence may be clear, Your spirit, strong, cannot be sold.
Hi, I wanted to write a blog post but I decided to try speaking in video again because the fact is that I have to switch things up in this way or else I will get exploded by Uranus since he is currently passing through my house of work…. he is opposing my sun too which means I need to get a nose ring or something….
If anyone is reading this, please say hi. I have been isolating myself in an attempt to get more work done & stay out of trouble but it is really getting to me…
Also, can I just share this super cute photo? I was at an outdoor karaoke event & fireworks went off so Slippers freaked out and started fleeing running onto a little corner onstage cause she was terrified. Then there was this male dog walking on three legs (a wild holler dog) and he went up after her to stand guard and protect her. He succeeded in making her feel safe to where she was smiling again after a few minutes. I just thought that was so sweet. Gallant male animals are so dreamy.
Also, can I just say…. on a personal note, that I need something in my life to change because the pace has gotten so frenetic & the energy is so mental that I can’t calm down or keep up. And yet I’m still teetering on the edge of survival. I wish I could write songs but I can’t slow down long enough to get in touch with myself or access emotion. I feel completely isolated because the way I am making money is secret & places me in no contact with other humans. Isolation increases feelings of panic and danger.
On the other hand, I’m anti-isolated due to many messages from screen people that I have to keep up with but this just makes the wheels spin faster while offering no feelings of safety. I feel like that girl in the dancing shoes fairy tale where everything keeps spinning faster and faster and faster but its never enough.
I don’t know what to do, but probably if I wait until July things will get better. That is when Jupiter moves from my House of Labor & Servitude to the House of Partnership & Marriage. Maybe then I won’t be so alone anymore.
The House of Servitude contains an element of isolation by its nature, being opposite the House of Solitude. Think of how alone a servant is, toiling, toiling, toiling & yet surrounded by those who don’t consider it a full human. Disposable & on the edge of survival.
Hi, I hope I am even making sense in this video. The struggle to survive is real & it has my brain in a frazzled state from dusk til dawn. Vibrating with panic.
