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 trying to figure how men and women can be in long term relationships. The problem is the difference in how they process emotions. It appears that men place all emotions into two categories:
A) Positive emotions. Yay! Good!
B) Negative emotions. Bad! No!!!
Positive emotions mean “Wow! You are a Great Man!” Negative emotions mean “I’m Angry Because You Suck!”
To women, emotions are colors and flavors. There are thousands of them and always new ones to be discovered. They rarely stand alone but are combined to form intoxicating brews. A dash of anger, 3 tears, a laugh…. now some bitterness to make the joy pop…. a glug of euphoria grounded by a trickle of disgust. Emotions are paints and we paint something new every day. It is an exhilarating world. But strangely- to men- this world does not even exist.
They see “good” emotions. YAY! “Bad” emotions. BOO! The emotional experience they crave seems- to the female palette- like the sort of tasteless goo you would serve an invalid. That’s what men call happiness.
They want Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. Every day. Try serving something more complex and they excuse themselves. To give you space until you get it together. They’re not mad at you. They’ll just give you the time you need to get back into Mac & Cheese mode.
To a man, the perfect woman has one emotion. Happiness. If you curve your lips upward and say “Gee that was Terrific!” they are satisfied. Happiness has been reached. Happiness is the goal.
From a female perspective, happiness is the yellow crayon. What can you draw with just that? Straight happiness is a stack of saltine crackers. Yay, yay, yay, yay, hooray, hooray, hooray. Eventually you can’t eat anymore. But he doen’t want you to eat anything else. Black coffee means you’re mad. Black coffee means he’s bad.
Being pressured into permahappiness is like a slug being salted to death. Every bland smile is more salt on your back. Unadulterated happiness is mental and dehydrating.
But men need you to pull out that yellow crayon every time you see them. NOT THE RED CRAYON!!!! NOT THE BLACK ONE!!!! THOSE ARE BAD CRAYONS!!!!
And it hurts to give up this magic. It’s like being lobotomized; just in a different part of yourself. It makes life flat. Something is gone that no amount of smiles can replace. The man can no longer please you because you’ve been separated from the source of pleasure. Pleasure is hatred, terror, insanity, confusion, intrigue, jubilation, awe & crankiness. The full range of feelings running wild.
But I don’t like hurting people. And to men, complex emotional palettes are a form of torture. Same as it might be torture for a woman to listen to a man explain engines for three hours. So I try to be nice by being the sort of woman they understand. Somebody with a brain like theirs, but only half as large and twice as smiley. I don’t want to give nobody nothing they don’t want.
But then I can’t breath. So what is the solution? I don’t think men are bad for disliking emotions. Nor do I think it makes them less loving. It just seems to be a form of energy they can’t process.
It makes sense that women speak the language of emotions since it is the language of babies. We automatically interpret cries and screams as opportunities to connect and help.
Sometimes men prey on this. Life has shown me that… generally when men cry and scream like babies they are not communicating anything real. They just know it triggers something in us. I think men’s most common response to pain is to hide it. It probably makes sense for warriors to hide their vulnerabilities. An excessively emotional man is usually being strategic. Perhaps then, when women are emotional men see it as strategic as well. Trying to control.
My opinion is that women rarely try to control men simply because we lack the desire to dominate them. The idea of throwing a man down on the bed and trying to mount him is repulsive.
But men interpret dark and negative energy as an attack, rather than an opportunity for depth, romance & healing. A man reading this post will likely respond “Wow you hate men! You think they suck!” To a male brain, I am discussing problems because I am mad at men and want to attack them.
To a female brain, I am discussing problems because I value men and want to make things better. Women dwell on problems as an expression of love. We find it enjoyable and transformative, like marinating in a broth. New understandings gel. Possibilities open up.
But men don’t like this. And you care about him so… you try not to bring up problems and focus on compliments instead. The compliments become repetitive, because without dark energy to carve new spaces, light energy has nowhere new to go.
Of course the dynamic changes when men want to have sex. The man in pursuit is not a man at all, but his own species. These creatures can take all your emotions. They swim, they live underwater. Your very essence is beautiful to them. Finally, a man with whom you can be yourself!
The problem is, much like sperms, these humanoids have short life spans. They die once their goal is reached. Even if they don’t reach their goal, they die soon enough. A man appears where the sperm being once was. His mind is transformed from an accomodating squiggle to a tower of fragile cubes. It is no longer safe to jump up and down in his presence. Positive energy only. Your days of being free are over.
So what is the solution?
To only date males in their sperm phase then throw them back once they turn into men? A tempting idea, but they turn into men at the exact time you are getting attached to them. It is hard to let go of someone you love once every cell in your body wants to please them instead.
Perhaps the answer is to always stay immersed in a private world of creativity, like a fish in a bowl, a secret universe where you can use every crayon in the box. Maybe this magic world does not need to be shared with them, maybe that’s too much. Maybe they just need the depth subliminally absorbed from the little things women add to their life…. a mug, a meal, a scented candle. Women fret that men don’t notice these things, but that may be for the best. They swim into his subconscious directly, never dried out and sealed inside his cube tower.
And we need men to hide much of themselves from us as well. We like to enjoy the benefits of male intelligence. But can you imagine if they shared all their thoughts? We would die of boredom within the hour. Perhaps when we open our female worlds to them, they drown.
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.
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.
One feature of my new life is how complex everything is. At least compared to when I was married.
I’m having the transit uranus opposite mercury. A time when your mercury gets shook up and taken into overdrive. Stressful as it is, I can’t deny that it’s giving me a new lease on life.
Mercury is the planet that rules communication, transportation & the ability to navigate our environment. It gives us mental sharpness, physical agility & the ability to multi-task. To wear many hats. To dance like a monkey while solving math problems, to dodge traffic while counting change & to talk on the phone with our boss while making a baby smile. It’s a VERY important planet.
Mercury itself does not have goals. It navigates what is thrown at us and explores what is around us. It is pure ability. It is light, quick moving energy that staves off depression & moodiness. It is an alert curiosity that makes life fun and bubbly.
If our Mercury is strong though, whatever goals we do set can be achieved. Because we are versatile, flexible, energized & competent. If our Mercury is weak, we are thick as a brick & our dreams go unrealized.
Sometimes though, we design our lives in such a ways that our mercury gets fat & dull. Cause we are constantly trying to make life easier, more streamlined and convenient. We hire someone to do our laundry, rather than hiring someone to throw pancakes at us while we do our laundry. This has to stop. The chaotic annoyances of life actually are the bubbles & our opportunity to develop a bright & buoyant personality.
A lot of it comes down to no longer begrudging chaotic difficulties but embracing them. They put the sizzle in life and can really fill you with glee when you take them in the right spirit. Imaging getting attacked by a rooster while running to catch the train… couldn’t that be fun?
If you have any of the following issues, you may want to take a month to whip your mercury into shape by making your daily life more challenging…
1. You are dumb. 2. There is no pep in your step, your swagger lacks ginger. 3. You have goals but are too lazy, dumb or incompetent to achieve them. 4. You are a depressed moody blob. 5. You are afraid to leave the house. 6. You feel your life would be better if your brain fired faster.
Mercury is about breadth, not depth. Multi-tasking, not single mindedness. Jack of all trades. Once any skill becomes familiar enough to do it on automatic, it no longer energizes your Mercury. To build Mercury, step outside your skill set to gain new rudimentary skills that are foreign to you. You need to put yourself in new situations or two situations at once.
The housewife must gain computer skills, the hacker must chop trees, the meathead must read a book, and the scholar must jerk off in the street before zooming away on his motorbike. This is how Mercury works. Breadth not depth. Jack of all trades. Keep repeating those words to yourself.
If you wish to fizzle this sizzle, here are some mercury building tips…
Change your mode of transportation. If you drive, try walking, biking, bussing or hitchhiking. It’s best if you sell your car, so you can’t revert to it when these other transportation methods are inconvenient. Cause it’s when they are inconvenient or even disastrous that they feed your Mercury the most.
Talk to new people. Everyone you encounter. Make sure you aren’t being selective because its especially important to talk to those who are invisible to you or outside your comfort zone. Do you see all those faceless, soulless bodies moving through the world? Take a minute to say hi to each one of them. Even babies and animals.
Fix things. Mercury rules puzzles & problem solving, so when things break down in your environment try to repair them yourself. Especially if this is something you would not normally do.
Multitask. Multitasking gets a bad rep just because it isn’t conducive to depth & focus but those aren’t the only games in town! Give two handjobs at once. Put on your makeup while dodging traffic. Make it through your to-do list two tasks at a time. Juggling many tasks at once perks up your brain especially when done in a spirit of fun.
Get a part time job that is unlike what you would normally do.
Get a dog. Slippers has definitely made my single life more complex. Walking her while carrying home my groceries and trying to figure out how to pick up the turd she dropped while the neighbor yells at me and Slippers tries to pull me into traffic. Taking her with me on dates & hoping the man won’t notice. She brings a Mercury challenge with her everywhere she goes.
New Environments. You know that sinking feeling when you enter a social situation where you *really* don’t feel comfortable? For mega-Mercury, keep placing yourself in strange, uncomfortable environments until social discomfort loses its sting. Go places too stuffy, wealthy & formal. Places too rowdy & redneck. Young places, old places. Gyms, libraries, bars and dance clubs. Black churches, white churches, gay bars & strip clubs. Keep doing this until the sting of social discomfort loses its sting.
Change up your technology. If you rely on technology, try living like you are in the 1800s or at least 1984. If you are a technophobe, go high tech in all areas of your life.
Sports. Mercury is equally about mental & physical agility. So if you are more mental- like many people in our culture- find a sport to get involved with. Especially one involving complexity and agility, like soccer or tennis.
Poverty. Mercury is all about invention & as you know necessity is its mother. If you are already super poor, embrace the challenge of finding work arounds for things which normally require money as well as finding new ways to make money. If you aren’t poor, try living off a dollar a day for a month to force yourself to be innovative.
Communication. Change your methods, patterns & people. If you never talk on the phone, start calling new people daily. Visit people in person. Send snail mail. Video call. Meet up for coffee. The more diverse people you talk to in the more diverse ways the stronger Mercury becomes.
Thank you for reading my blog post on how to strengthen Mercury. This is the end. Please try my suggestions and tell me if you end up feeling bubbly as I do!
Below is a little video I made about the transit Uranus opposite Mercury. I’m partially making these videos to strengthen my own Mercury since it is a novel approach to communication for me.
I’ve decided that- as an experiment- I will make a few pacts with myself for the next couple years. These pacts have one shared purpose- to not abandon myself for a man.
Unless I find someone who is absolutely devoted to me, I will not be committed to anyone. This means- barring a man who wants to marry me, take a bullet for me, give me all his money & live with me in the afterlife- I am not going to be anyone’s girlfriend.
What is the point in being a girlfriend? It’s not a commitment. It just means you belong to someone until they dump you. If it is some kind of test run for marriage then okay. But otherwise, being someone’s temporary whore seems ridiculous. It gives you the feeling of having someone when really you don’t.
This isn’t a pact but just a strong suggestion to myself to avoid having sex. Men call sex “fun” but that is gross to me. Maybe it would be “fun” to set your house on fire but you don’t do it because the consequences are severe.
Sex is a magic spell that holds women in thrall. Christians talk about submission as a moral attainment. When really submission is a state that occurs naturally when you have sex with someone. Sex awakens powerful instincts of trust & devotion that may not be merited by this person. A man has to love you A LOT and be a very good person for this to be a wise course of action. The problem is… if he is trying to have sex with you that is exactly the sort of person he will appear to be.
It’s the sex paradox… his true character will only come out AFTER you’ve had sex but by then you will be too attached to leave him anyway.
This is the most important part. I am going to attempt to freely express myself. In my astrology chart, it is expressing myself- about things that are secret, magical, emotional or even (gasp!) sexual- with no regard for how others will take it- that moves me towards my destiny. I want to try moving towards my destiny for a couple years.
The main thing that keeps me silent are men. I feel like their testicles are these little eggs and one wrong word from me will shatter them. Then I deserve what happens next. I feel so guilty when I fear I may have disrespected them that I begin to punish myself.
But I gotta let myself off that hook for just two years- as an experiment- and say its okay if I’m disrespectful. It’s okay if I say something men don’t like. My zodiac chart indicates that I must avoid at all costs becoming an unctuous servant. I need to speak and sing and let the chips fall where they may.
For two years I can try to see what happens if I place true expression above pleasing people. Thinking of this fills me with fear but that’s why I’ve begun collecting red stones.
Perhaps no one can love you anyway if you aren’t being yourself. If someone loves you because you are down on your knees kissing them is that love or something else?
But philosophical considerations aside, in real life, my abandonment panic controls me, overwhelming all reasonable considerations. I’m a love addict basically. I stop having needs cause men don’t like those. I stop talking cause the brains of men are easily taxed.
And I enjoy being a clear blob to a large extent because it allows me to absorb the flavor of the other person. The problem is a point inevitably arrives when something VERY IMPORTANT must be expressed or asked for. A boundary must at last be set or things begin spinning in the wrong direction And then I find myself frozen. Unable to express it. And even when I do manage to, the person rarely honors it cause why would they? If they wanted someone with expectations they wouldn’t have chosen me to begin with. Being nothing is my selling point.
That’s why for two years I am going to take a risk & follow the destiny outlined in my zodiac chart. To place the focus on expressing myself and let the chips with people fall where they may.
It is extra challenging because I feel so insecure in terms of survival. I might be homeless soon. I spend about 4 hours a day crying. I apply to jobs every day but my resume is just a blank sheet of paper. This seems like the time to suck dick if ever there was one.
But the idea in astrology is that under stress people tend to run in the wrong direction. So for me, the less sure I feel of survival, the more I focus on being polite & servile. When really I should do the opposite- become bolder & more expressive because that is where my luck lies.
As an experiment I want to try placing my faith in this idea for two years to see if it actually works!
And by the way- if you got some money- I can tell you where your destiny lies too! Contact me at [email protected]!
Playing a gig with Slippers at a bookstore. Look how happy she is! Sometimes I feel like an absolute loser because I have not yet increased my income nearly enough & am facing utter ruin. On the other hand, a couple years ago I would have been terrified to walk into a bookstore. Now I carried all my equipment there on my back while walking Slippers, set up and played without even really feeling nervous. So at least I have grown a lot even tho its not yet reflected in my bank account.
I love candles. Many times a single candle has altered the course of my life.
Last night I lit a red candle and BAM!! All these realizations about sex started flooding me. I saw how it merges two people’s energy & if the man doesn’t value your survival & material well being as his own you best steer clear, cause he will dilute your energy. The energy you need to survive. Especially for someone like me who feels precarious in her own survival to begin with.
Wanting a man to invest in you materially isn’t selfish…. why would you merge your material body with someone who doesn’t love you that much? I invest in Slippers materially and take responsibility for her life. Even tho I suck at survival it isn’t that hard to expand your sense of self to include someone else. This should be the minimum sort of love a person has before you risk merging with them.
Cause for me, if I have sex with someone I become very attached. My mind and emotions are constantly drifting towards them. Why would you want to spend all day thinking about someone who wouldn’t even buy you groceries? It doesn’t make any sense. Until you find someone who at least loves you that much you should hold your energy inside cause you’ll need it. Cause I think survival is hard for females. At least for me.
It’s is hard for me to think practically, logically, selfishly and strategically which is how you need to think for survival. How would a man feel if he was expected to jack off to purple rectangles? It’s not how he’s wired up.
But men are more selfish & strategic by nature. (Not to mention that their testicles are 2 extra brains devoted to survival.) It’s what makes it dangerous to be intimate with a man unless his sense of self has expanded to include you. Because although men are designed to be selfish, they also have the ability to expand their sense of self to include wife, children, family, clan, country etc. In this way they are selfish and unselfish at the same time.
But don’t place your well being at the mercy of a man who sense of self does not include you. Because to people outside this sense of self they are ruthless.
This hit me like lightning last night. I was lighting a red candle to help me be better at surviving because I don’t know what I’m going to do for money yet. I lost my last job for not conning people hard enough & the two jobs before that were both lost for crying on the job due to smells. I’m sure there is something I can do but it always seems to require being something other than my nature. Just trying to get my brain to think about what I could do ends up with staring into space as no thoughts arise. My mind is wired to be hyperaware of what is, not to strategize a path forward.
But the red candle showed me that the first step to surviving is not forming relationships which don’t facilitate your survival. Cause why would you merge with someone not vested in you? How can it lead to anything good?
I’ve always been so afraid of being a gold digger that I sort of became the reverse. But really there is nothing wrong with a man investing in you materially. I invest in Slippers materially. I’m not going to be enjoying a delicious meal while she is hungry. That would be sick. To care about a loved one’s physical well being is the most basic form of love. If someone doesn’t love you in the most basic way WHY would you allow your mind & heart to center around them? It’s self abandonment.
It may be nobody’s responsibility to take care of me but it is not my responsibility to suck their dick either. It doesn’t really matter if someone claims to like or love you. Actions speak louder than words and if they can’t love me -at a bare minimum- like I love Slippers then being with them will dilute my raw power which I cannot afford.
I have to put myself first until I find somebody that puts me first.
Thank you red candle. I will add candles to the list of things that have always been my friends… colors, candles. End of list.
