They say the rain will play that song again You know the way it will go. To feel his net within my mind again I’ll lead the way even so.
But if you’re gonna take a one time stand, then you’re a one time man You don’t know the way. If you want to say that they was wrong when they was barely born Save it for another day.
If you want to take the easy way and fly First you walk to the window by my side- Water running through the drain and Everything remains the same and
If you want to find the open road and go First you walk to the window and you’ll know- Clouds are foaming in the blue, man. Do you think they’re reforming you man?
I feel the baker take her time again Stir slow, stir slow all of the corn. Green fields appear within my mind again Grow slow, grow slow, only born.
But if you’re gonna take a one time stand, then you’re a one time man You don’t know the way. If you want to say that they was wrong when they was barely born Save it for another day.
If you want to take the easy way and fly First you’ll walk to the window by my side- Water running through the drain and Everything remain the same and
If you want to find the open road and go First you’ll walk to the window and you’ll know- Clouds are foaming in the blue, man. Do you think that they’re reforming you man?
You know the way to pull that cold from me Pull hard, pull hard, pull with your hand. My hair was rope inside your hand, you see Pull hard, pull hard see if you can.
But if you’re gonna take a one time stand, then you’re a one time man You don’t know the way. If you want to say that they was wrong when they was barely born Save it for another day.
If you want to take the easy way and fly First you’ll walk to the window by my side- Water running through the drain and Everything remains the same and
If you want to find the open road and go First you’ll walk to the window and you’ll know- Clouds are foaming in the blue, man. Do you think they’re reforming you man?
Look around and hope to see you Look around and wonder where you been Like a man you come towards me Hold you like a razor in my hand
Oooooo… you always knew the way But I could never see the way The fire was in my eyes- it burns and still I’m fine Why can’t someone love you for a long long time?
Dancing with you at the bar All the stars they circle round to fall Come close stick the pin into me You love me cause I can take it all
Oooooo… you always knew the way But I could never see the way The fire was in my eyes- it burns and still I’m fine Why can’t someone love you for a long long time?
Believe in things that cut you most Believe in magic like a ghost I swear I’ve never felt this way before You move towards the open door
Then turn It burns but still I’m fine It burns but still I’m fine Why can’t someoe love you for a long long time?
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 hadn’t seen my dogs for almost 2 weeks because people were telling me it was too dangerous and I could get killed.
But one day I couldn’t take it any longer. As a single person I have friends, but its mental & airy. You miss the vegetable acceptance you can get through family. But Slippers & Patton are more than family. They are forever friends. Missing them was this pain in my heart that wouldn’t go away. I felt like they were calling me.
I’ll never forget the crazy smiles on their faces when I came through the door. We were all barking and crying and running around in circles trying to bite each other. Then James- who had not seemed to be there- called the cops but I didn’t even care. We were outside of time.
I went outside to talk to the police. They said I wasn’t in trouble. I wasn’t breaking the law since it is my house, my dogs and only James has a no contact order on him. But they said they didn’t want to leave me there just in case anything happened so they waited outside to give me 5 more minutes with my dogs & then told James to tell me a next time when I could visit them.
That was today and I just got back from 2 hours of seeing them. First we rejoiced, then we sang our favorite songs- Stand by Me, Fur Angel, Dog Went a Courtin’ & more. Then we had a snack. Then we lounged and stared into space. It was great to vegitate together. It is hard to be a vegetable in solitude. Plus they make me cry with their faithfulness.
Mushrooms were growing in the front yard of the house I used to share with Slippers and Patton. What does this mean?
I don’t place dogs above humans but I don’t place humans above dogs either. They seem very much alike except in how they dress. People keep telling me to get a new dog, but the thing is I have zero interest in dogs as a species. I have an interest in two specific people- Slippers and Patton.
Scorpio is a water sign, which means love and emotion. It is a black 8 turned on its side whose goal is to dig the deepest hole possible in one spot in order to create bonds of love so strong they survive the threshhold of death. Death is the test of love and everything really. Only that which is real survives.
So I’m not a let go and move on type of person. I don’t mind suffering for something which has value. But I would rather not invest in something which death will hack apart. Only those things you would suffer, bleed and die for really matter in the end because those are the only things that carry forward. That is my philosophy anyway. I believe there is an eternal world where treasure accrues. A relationship that withstands the tests of hell becomes immortal. Of course, this willingness to accept pain can sometimes backfire and make you hang on to the wrong things. But I do want my relationships with Slippers and Patton to make it to the Forever World. They are such special friends to me.
Lettuces forever.
Which brings me to another issue…. for a while there I felt I was finding a groove. Surviving as a poor person was seeming not only doable, but magical. Cleaning my clothes in a bucket, picking lettuces from the Lettuce Patch for the Poor, accepting charity where offered… it felt like I’d stepped into a fairy tale. But when I shared my enthusiasm for poverty on Facebook people started throwing all kinds of fear and anger at my head, calling me desperate for attention, playing at being poor, condescending to actual poor people while also abusing all humanity by being a lazy slob who needed a job. They also said they’d seen me make soldiers cry with their own eyes. On purpose.
Normally I don’t mind retard attacks, but now that I have no husband it feels more unnerving than it used to. There is no one to take my side against a mob* nor do I feel as willing to lose the support of random acquaintances.
The get a job thing bothers me especially, because I do have a job. In fact I care so much about this job that I’m willing to sacrifice wealth, respect and safety for it because it feels like a divine calling.
I don’t relate to the view where your success as an artist is based on the number of humans who know your creations. What if you only had an impact on one human? What if that human was your self? There is no way to measure how impacts play out over the course of time. What is more impactful- a song known only to Noah that he hummed on the ark for his animals- or the most popular song on earth right before everyone drowned in a flood? You can’t say really.
And beyond that, I feel art changes the world even if no one at all hears it, because it carves new spaces in the world of imagination. The realm that precedes that which is possible on earth. Success is the extent to which you can open the portals you are trying to open and build the magical kingdoms you are trying to build.
At first I just wanted to write songs, but now it is important to me to write the specific songs that bore the hole I am trying to bore. I have a feel of the sort of energy I want to usher into this plane. Muses come and go but there is a muse behind them who is constant.
And if my muse guides me to beg for quarters why not? People got so angry at me for bringing up begging on facebook but I think there is something beautiful about it. Someone holding up a cup, giving you the opportunity to place a coin inside? Who knows what good could come from that? And what is the danger in a coin moving from one place to another?
The problem is these other people’s views on life & their horrible judgments of my character really threw me off my own wavelength to where I couldn’t write songs or anything. As though I was a monster for not devoting my life to a 401k plan. But it’s hard for me to see how a life where you aren’t following your own spirit is even a life to begin with.
For me there is no choice. Even if I try to do what others want I won’t. I just have to do what I’m going to do anyway and hope for the best.
“Lettuces For The Poor” Lettuce Patch. If you take a solemn vow to be truly poor then you can take a lettuce of your choice.
Also, I have been on dates. Sweet men and delicious food.
Also, playing gigs for dollar bills and delicious food. I love it how people throw money into a hat or a guitar case. That is what started me thinking how beautiful it could be to beg with a metal cup. In between music, men, EBT & lettuce patches I am eating better now as a poor person than I ever did as a married lady of dignity and grace.
Also, someone I like asked me if I wanted to be friends with benefits. What does this mean? It sounds like such a cosmopolitan offer. My lesbians have assured me that pain this way lies. Then one lesbo called me on the sly to say she thinks its a great idea because relationships suck.
Also, I have a side hustle working as a secretary for one of my heroes, an herbalist. Years ago, I made a list of 10 people on earth I would like to meet. The other 9 were jackasses but this one has been a benefactor to me and changed my life. To receive help from someone you admire is a sweet feeling.
Also, it used to shock me how the black people on my street would walk down the sidewalk dancing and singing out loud. Now I do that too.
Also, I like the musicians I meet. I no longer hate people who play guitars. I guess I just hated the musician in myself because I grew up in a world where musicians had AIDS. But I’ve really come to cherish their freewheeling ways and the time we spend together. I love being able to ask people if they would prefer to eat a shit filled dick or have their own dick stapled to the wall & they will just consider the question and answer it rather than making me feel like I’m some kind of freak. I like being around people who are stoned. In their own way they are kindred spirits.
It’s almost like I’m becoming a free spirit.
Charleston West Virginia where I live.
Patton is glad I’m back. I wish you could have seen his smile a couple days ago when he saw me for the first time. He looked insane.Slippers my goldie angel.
* Btw…….. I said I feared no one would defend me from mobs now that I’m a single lady but that didn’t turn out to be true. My lesbians came to my defense just as they have before. Not just intercepting stones, but hurling them back. From a Scorpio perspective, nothing means more than a friend who will fight for you. This made me cry as well. I hope every female finds some serial killettes to have her back.
We normally start song time with Stand By Me, a song that was written by a dog for a dog.
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.
Hi, I have been wanting to write in here for a while, but too confused & conflicted to know what to say. I keep writing things & deleting them because there are too many parts of myself (or possibly parts of other people) vying for control.
It is so cold, but luckily I have a space heater & as long as I sit right in front of it I am okay. This has forced me to do lots of boring things, like obsess endlessly over minor astrology transits & review relevant moments in my journals. (I have 100 million.)
One thing I have noticed from reading them is that my perceptions are uncannily accurate, but my thoughts & interpretations are absurdly offbase. I recorded all these dreams which -with the benefit of hindsight- I can see were quite literal. But my interpretations of them could not have been more absurd. I just interpreted things as meaning whatever I wanted them to mean rather than seeing what was staring right at me in the face.
Is it bad luck to tell people your dreams? I mean desire dreams. My greatest dream is to discover my own form of astrological magic. These past couple weeks it seemed as though I had done just that. I ‘tapped’ into a couple transits I was having and BAM!- I seemed to become a different person overnight. I opened a Cardano Stake pool (AKLEI- and I hope you will stake with me) and started promoting it and messaging people about it obsessively- something extremely out of character for me- but you see Pluto is currently moving through my house of money to sextile my sun & this was the transit that I tapped.
Eventually though, the change in my character became so intense I couldn’t tell if I was obsessed or possessed. Slowing down was impossible & it felt as though in a moment I had suddenly become a different person. I was waking up to watch tech videos, helping streams of friends solve their tech problems & discussing tech with my husband at night. All this started to make me wonder if was approaching magic in the wrong way. The changes were not bad per se… just weird.
But my intention had been to try to become someone else until the spring anyway, because right now life is hard & I needed a means of escape. Focusing on tech & money- for better or worse- is helpful for separating from life’s physical & emotional aspects. The physical are probably the hardest. It is just so freaking cold & I have anemia but no money for iron supplements, making it hard to do things like play guitar. I just thought if I had some way of escaping until spring then things would be easier. In spring it will be warm for starters & the price of Cardano should be on the rise, making it easier to purchase things.
In spring, I will be able to walk around. Right now it is hard to even walk around my house & I hate to stay in one place.
P.S. If you have any thoughts, please do comment or contact me. I like connecting with people more than dancing for an invisible audience.
Every time I write a song I go through a predictable process.
First, there are days of anxiety where I wait for the right moment to ask James for help with recording & uploading. Due to his odd hours & catastrophic stress levels, days or weeks may pass before I get up the nerve to ask him. He likes to help me, of course, but I still feel guilty asking for his time when he is always run ragged & juggling grenades.
(The past 2 years he has mostly been in the cryptocurrency field. If you like trading cryptocurrencies, visit his site: www.whalewarz.com)
Eventually, I get the song posted. Then I enter a fog. Who am I? What am I doing with my life? Within a day or two, the fog leads to a new obsession that I am sure will be the answer to everything. The obsession lasts for a few days or maybe weeks. Then I enter another fog. What the hell have I been doing? Sometimes I can hardly remember. Why did I paint everything green? What was I hoping to accomplish?
At this point, I return to being my regular self, tail between my legs. The self who doesn’t need to control the universe, but just wants to collect pink things & scented soaps. Maybe write an occasional song.
I am going through that second fog right now- where the obsession lifts and I wonder what I have been doing. This last obsession was with reading books on magic written prior to the 1700s. And while it was somewhat interesting, eventually the patterns of the books began to clash with the patterns of my brain until I just didn’t feel like myself anymore.
The books were what I would call “occult.” Which (to me) means harnessing spiritual powers to create change on earth. The occult has masculine, religious overtones that don’t sit right in my stomach. Fathers, hierarchies, magic squares, solemnity & robes- these are the things that belong to men.
Then there is witchcraft, of course, but I am not womanly enough for that. Long flowing dresses, pools of naked women, bubbling cauldrons, turning men into frogs- witchcraft is only for earth mothers or lesbian teenagers.
Luckily, I believe that between the higher world of celestial magic and the lower* world of earth powers, there is a third world where magic resides. A world so ordinary it does not appear magical at all. Maybe I will tell you about it sometime. But right now I have to cook dinner. I hope all is well in your secret existence.
A shopping spree from when I thought orange was the answer to everything. (But still could not help picking up some browns, since I have this obsession with brown despite the two of us having nothing in common.)
A shopping spree from when I thought green was the answer to everything. But, once again, I could not resist grabbing a few brown bowls as well due to the funny feeling they give me.
Well hello, blog post. I told you I would turn to you as a friend when there are no physical friends to be found. So here I am. How much can I confide in you, I don’t know. My life has been a toggle between transparency and invisibility. I don’t know the right place to draw the line. Sharing yourself can feel icky, but living incognito can be dangerous, making it that much easier for someone to lock you in their basement without anyone noticing.
Although I have written a lot of blog posts, they are usually from my brain, the only part of the body that can be safely shared. I guess that is why we have art, to share those parts of ourselves which are taboo to put into plain words.
I am trying to start drinking alcohol. Maybe it will provide a space for me to connect with those parts of myself that have no home in daily life. You are not supposed to drink alone, however, so maybe I will drink with you. I am fairly intoxicated right now, and it is making me cry to realize how homeless my feelings have become. Life is playing a role to please others and maintain harmony. Survival depends upon it.
In my case, my role is easy. Nobody expects anything of me. My only task is to have no desires, no emotions, and be mildly happy all the time. To never want or need anything. To be okay with constant stillness & isolation, to never need fun or adventure beyond a monthly trip to Walmart. To never be chaotic or make unexpected noises. Basically, to be a librarian.
But I can’t take it anymore. The pressure is building up and I feel like a kernel of corn who can’t stop himself from blowing. I want to get on the bus and just go somewhere. But where? The only place I can think of is the library. And I hate libraries. All those thick boring books with their gray waves. It feels like being surrounded by stones. It is hard for me to stay conscious in a library for more than a few minutes.
I want to be surrounded by a different type of wave. Bright waves. Fun waves. Romantic waves. The waves of adventure and boldness. No more sleepy, snoozy, waves filling the air 24/7.
But my horoscope predicts this state of affairs (caused by Neptune-the planet of insane asylums- afflicting my domestic realm) will continue for another 10 months. So far it has lasted for 2 years. So what do I do? Continue to bang my head against the wall in a vain effort to change what can’t be changed? Yes. I think that is what I will do.
As I mentioned before, the circumstances causing me to go insane is living alone with my husband who works from home, but sleeps through the day while working at night. To make matters worse, when he isn’t working or sleeping, he likes to lie down by himself in a dark room to think. He says this is the most important part of his work, and I’m sure he is right, but it doesn’t change the fact that I am going insane. He is the sort of person who never really needs to have fun or let loose, and while I admire this about him, it doesn’t change the fact that I am going nuts.
He doesn’t understand though, how I can be impacted by his actions when we are separate people. If he chooses to spend all sunlit hours lying horizontal in the darkness, what does that have to do with me? How can it possibly impact my state of mind? To me, however, the impact is self-evident. Wouldn’t anyone notice a difference between living in a circus versus a cemetery? A sunny day versus a cloudy one? Doesn’t everyone need to be cheered by the vital presence of others every now and then?
And now I am breaking another taboo by mentioning James. You are allowed to talk about yourself, but you can’t talk about anyone else, which basically means you can’t really talk about yourself either. Relationship issues are private and must be worked out in secret between the two people, which basically means they can’t be worked out at all. There is always someone with less power in a relationship, isn’t there? And for them the privacy of marriage only turns it into a death trap.
Maybe it would be better if relationships were opened up for public scrutiny, at least to some extent. On the other hand, everyone needs a secret garden where their inner self can live away from prying eyes. And that is what the domestic realm is supposed to be. So I do value the gag order placed on discussing domestic problems even though I am breaking it.
But I shouldn’t do that. So instead I will do the right thing. Swallow deeply, smile bigly and turn to magic for the answers. The one friend who has been there for man since the beginning of time, his secrets taught to us through our best friends- the grains. The staffs of life.
Feeding Slippers some corn eggs. Despite my domestic grumblings, you must remember that for many years my dream was to live in a big old house with a dog and tons of dishes. Now that dream has come true. But the planet who gave me that dream (when he spent 7 years travelling through the House of Domesticity) has moved on into the House of Fun & Romance. So now I find myself caring about things- such as fun- which before seemed stupid & pointless.
Adding more dishes to my collection. I am always convinced that a new color of dishes will be the cure for what ails me. I love to shop. Shopping + car rides are probably the only true hobbies I have.
Shopping at Fiestaware with Slippers. Luckily for me, shopping is Slipper’s favorite hobby as well. Spending an hour in a store where she can walk around and sniff everything is her idea of paradise. Mine too.
Hi, how are you? I have been feeling weird, as though I have reached the end up some rope and there is no rope left to move forward with. The person I am used to being feels foreign to me.
Recently, I lost all my friends, probably due to Mars- the God of War- making his way through my House of Relationships. This forced me to detox from my relational self and once the detox was complete, I couldn’t relate anymore to my personality. I am, once again, a person without a personality, a crab without a shell.
And I feel aimless. Life feels dry and pointless. All I want is an adventure. But it is this restless feeling that usually leads me straight to the hospital, rather than standing atop Everest, an intoxicating breeze through my hair.
Everything is a swirl. I have written a million blog posts recently, but by the time I get to the end, my thoughts have shifted so far I can no longer relate to anything I said. Then I delete it. This will probably be deleted to, we will see. Word salad.
It feels like I have already done everything there is to do. I know this can’t be true, and yet every road *feels* like a road I have seen before. Why is this?
We all live in a reality, I guess, and that reality has parameters. Eventually, you get a sense of where the parameters lie.
Sure, there are books I have yet to read, but I feel like anything they say will fall within the parameters of the world I already know. Boring. I want to open a book and have a dragon pop out. He will whisper in my ear where I can find buried treasure. I will go to dig it up and thus begin an adventure of epic proportions, dissolving my sense of reality and replacing it with something magical & expansive.
I know it can be done. To step outside the walls of your reality into a world that is fresh and new. But how? I’m sure I could figure it out, if only my brain could step outside this swirling wind.
Here is a picture, for people who can’t stand words without pictures. These are some deadnettles I picked from the yard to make into deadnettle vinegar. I don’t know what I will do with it. Some people say it cures allergies, or maybe I will use it to clean the house. But deadnettles were covering the whole front yard this spring and I felt like it had to be a sign. Don’t you believe that the plants with the physical or magical qualities you need the most will find a way of making it to your door?
