One. Making his way cross the floor The second don’t come anymore Cause they only come when it’s easy easy.
Red lightning that flash in his eyes Holding my face in a vise This is the game that will please me please me.
Oh no lemme go I’ve been thinking about this so Something is not right although I love you so much beyond reason reason.
Haha funny bitch do you think that I need your lies? Lying bitch now what words will you say this time? After I put my dick on the line just to please you please you.
Cards cards on the table- no way That’s not the game that they play They only stay when it’s easy, easy.
Walk pacing around on the floor Did you dream anything more? More than the lessons they teach me teach me.
Oh no lemme go I’ve been thinking about this so Something is not right although I want you to love me and keep me keep me.
Ho ho gaming bitch do you think that I need you now? Do you think you can turn this around some how? I could jerk it right now to the thought of you bleeding bleeding.
Blood. One little drop just for you. That was the first time you knew This was a game that was easy easy.
Sigh. All of the things that you say Holding my mind in a sway All of the lessons you teach me teach me.
Oh no lemme go I’ve been thinking about this so Something is not right although When I close my eyes then it’s reeling reeling
And still I stay cause I want you to keep me from harm Wrapped up like a fly in your beautiful arms Drip drop from your mouth everything that you’re feeling feeling.
Swallow. Don’t snitch. Shut your cunt mouth you dumb fucking bitch. Are there voices do you hear their cries? Answer me but only when I tell you that it’s time.
What is a double saint? Is it someone who performs twice as many good deeds as a regular saint?
No. The problem with regular saints is they push themselves too hard. To serve. To be good. They strive. And so pressure builds up inside. One day they blow and to prison they go. This is what we call the saint paradox.
The double saint seeks to avoid this paradox by striving less, but also being less at the same time. When you are nothing, you don’t annoy people as much. Then it takes fewer good deeds to repay them for tolerating your existence.
In this post I will assume you want to become a double saint to get along better with a man. If not, adjust accordingly.
Here is the path of the double-saint.
In all things think vapor. You are no longer a person. You are a vapor. Always ask yourself “What would a vapor do in this situation?”
Speak less or not at all. A vapor listens and absorbs.
If you do speak, make it short, light and pleasing. Even praise should not be heavy handed. Coming on strong- even in a positive sense- requires the other person to be aware of your presence, which is taxing to their mind. Just one dandelion puff of uplifting words will do the trick.
Never question, criticize, disagree or weigh in on any subject unless asked. Why would a vapor do this? If you are in a car with a man who is driving off a cliff, you go off the cliff too. Wordlessly. You are a vapor. You will be fine.
Do nice things for the man. However do not strain yourself doing nice things or you will reach the saint’s paradox. Do nice things you enjoy doing, so that you don’t need him to notice or appreciate them. Needing to be appreciated would be a tax. The double saint strives to be completely untaxing and always relaxing.
Remove standards & expectations. A double saint must not only avoid putting pressure on the man, she must remain unpressurized herself. Do not hold him to any standards and if this makes it difficult to uphold standards yourself then let them blow away.
Do not become saintly by performing a mega house cleaning. Become double saintly by not caring. Once again this prevents the build up of emotional pressure that will eventually cause you to express yourself.
7. Be pleased by pleasing yourself. If men see you are pleased, they will take credit for it and be happy. If you tell them how to please you they will feel bossed. So learn how to please yourself in all ways while crediting your happiness to him.
8. Release objective reality. The double saint must never expect another person’s words to align with objective reality. Do not feel tangled up when words are false, nonsensical, self-contradictory etc. Just hear words as clouds of modern poetry beholden to neither rhyme nor reason. What is a word, but a tiny bird that a cloud once thought they might have heard? In this way you float gently through skies of lies without being tangled in a single knot.
Are you getting the idea? The saint strives, feels like the man isn’t holding up his side of the bargain & gets frustrated. She expresses this & ends up in the hospital. The double saint doesn’t care what the man does. She is able to not care by remaining in a non-pressurized state. She is able to be non-pressurized by removing expectations & activities that pressurize her.
Is a double-saint the same as a slacker? Not at all. To remain a vapor requires great discipline. She twas loose as a goose when they slipped on the noose. She received all abuse while remaining diffuse. Tho she lacks the vigor of the regular saint & is unlikely to slay dragons, her strength lies in equanimity. She knows her soul is immortal and therefore no problem will be the end of her.
And what does the double saint do when treated unjustly? What if she is yelled at, blamed or punished for a crime she didn’t commit? How can she avoid that natural emotion of anger or the desire to stand up for herself which she must avoid at all cost? What if she is stolen from, betrayed, raped and beaten, how does she retain her vaporous personality even then?
This is a tough one and I don’t know the answer. Just recognize that no one can be perfectly saintly, much less double-saintly. Try stress gummies, vallium and- in cases of verbal attack- attempt to discreetly cover your ears. If this is impossible, write down the words and turn them into a rhyme.
Why are you so dumb, you stupid cunt? When in yonder field the falcons doth hunt?
I’ve made great strides with red in recent years, being more willing to express myself, ruffle feathers etc.
Red lets you stick your neck out, take action, fight. Not care what anybody thinks.
Black also deals with conflict and enemies. But the sorts of enemies you can’t fight straight on. Maybe they hide & use deception so you don’t know where to swing. Maybe they dominate you to the point that fighting back would be suicidal. Maybe they have you leveraged, black mailed, so that you must follow their will to protect to ones you care about.
Red is a boxing match where both people get bloody. Black is getting raped when you’re drugged & tied down. There is nothing you can do. You can’t move.
People always say be assertive and stand up for yourself. People are so naive. In situations where standing up for oneself is an option, most people will take it. But people usually won’t victimize you until they have you in a situation where fighting back will be difficult or even impossible. They attack when they are fully leveraged.
War is red and black. Red is the brawn and black is the brains. Force + deception.
Men overpower women because they have more red. You can’t fight a man. But they have more black as well. Their brains instinctively think in a strategic fashion, calculating how their moves position them power-wise in relation to their opponents. Women tend to assume others are on the same page as them until shown otherwise.
Black knows we are not all one. We don’t share the same will. Others are not who they appear to be. They may be indifferent to harming us or they may get off on it. To be safe you must always keep a touch of black in your pocket- one independent wit that reminds you to never trust completely.
This is hard for me. Maybe for all women. I’ve always wanted to merge with someone to feel safe and loved. And when I feel threatened I focus on trusting more, following more closely the will of whomever I feel threatened by in the hopes of appeasing them. I try to be nicer in the hopes of winning their love. I appeal to their sympathy. It never works. When people are in black mode empathy has turned off. Being nice does not keep you safe. The most gentle animals get eaten first. Survival is selfish. It goes after the easiest target.
Black is boundaries. But what are boundaries? Too often we think of boundaries as ‘standing up for yourself.’ “Hey Lion! Don’t eat me! I’m NOT okay with that.” But unless we have a machine gun these ‘boundaries’ are pretty pointless. People are not going to obey our will just because we verbalize it. They obey their own.
Boundaries are really a state of awareness in which you can separate your own will from the wills of those around you. You know your own mind & do not project the contents of your mind onto others. You attempt to see them as they truly are.
When you project positive or negative glamours onto others you blur the distinction between you & them. Imagination & reality. This is a no boundary state. Boundaries mean seeing yourself & others as the two distinct- and possible opposed- entities that you truly are.
Without this clear psychic separation, you end up carrying out the wills of others without realizing it. You are unable to act in your own best interests. But when there is a willingness to see the truth of yourself and the truth of others, thinking automatically becomes more strategic because it starts to line up with reality. Not sentiments.
With black, you know your aim and you know your opponent. You know when telling the truth is useful and when deceit is the only option. Unlike red, you do not try to win every battle. You know some battles must be lost to win the war. You wait. You bend over. You take it up the ass. You say you like it. You wait some more. And when your moment of opportunity comes you are ready.
Patton wearing his favorite “Trust Me” tshirt. You can trust him. Would he lie to you?
This song was partially inspired by this shirt which made me feel so calm and controlled….. an evening librarian who quietly hums while filing books alone.
But as you can see from the background, the feeling of control was only a dream. And one washing shrank the sleeves to halfway up my arms, transferring me from library to insane asylum.
I wrote this a few weeks back but only now got the nerve to publish it. Cause it references neighbors & I’m not sure if it’s cool to blog about neighbors or not.
I’ve been feeling kind of bummed, like I reached the end of empowermint. There may be no way of getting more powerful than I already am. My last empowermint was smoking illegal drugs. It blew my mind I was able to achieve this and now it kind of feels like I’ve peaked. What more can I do? Rob a bank? Dallas? These things require cars and I still don’t have one.
I also sang a couple songs on stage without dying of a heart attack. It wasn’t as scary as I thought it’d be. Felt like floating, like I wasn’t there at all. Still counts as a mint though.
I’ve now been to bars three times. They are scary but exciting. People do drugs. I received a pot gummy bear. But this was after I’d completed my illegal drugs empowermint, so I didn’t eat him. Instead he was flayed and quartered. I fed the meat to a friend each time he got angry in the hopes it would calm him.
At the bar a guy told me he was hard and asked what color panties I was wearing. I asked if I could see his jockstrap. Then he starts shouting how much he loves sucking cock. Then he smashes a bottle over a man’s head. They start punching and blood is dripping down their faces. One of them has black X’s painted on his cheeks. It felt like being in a dark wonderland. Nothing like the world I am used to.
Everyone in the bar was larger than life. Some wore diamonds despite being men. One had just escaped max security for murder. One said he would fuck me over a fireplace. One had only three fingers on his hand. One wore an earring of a butt and said he likes doing everyone up the butt regardless of gender. One had just gotten stabbed. If I could be certain of not getting murdered it would be quite exciting.
But I’ve been so cloistered I don’t totally get where excitement ends and danger begins. A friend told me I was on my way to getting my organs removed. So I tried returning to pre-empowermint days. But that isn’t safe either. Once I believed that being a good housekeeper would ensure my safety in life. Now I know that sooner or later God throws everyone out on the streets. So you gotta be ready.
And then you get addicted to the thrill. I kind of want to see more of this crazy world. How many men are out there with X’s on their face? How many want to see my underwear?* What is PCP? What signals do drug addicts use to find dealers? What sweet words and caresses will organ dealers use to win the trust of healthy people? Can you be fucked over a working fireplace? If a man offers to let you watch him jerk off is it yes or no? I want to know everything.
But those lesbians. They keep reminding me I’m courting disaster and I know they’re right. What I really need is to join a ladies book club and I promise I will. Ladies help you become smarter and more organized. They encourage you to make crafts and sell them at a fair. Around men you grow clear and gelatinous. You wait to see what they’ll do next. You try not to set them off. Men are a feast for the imagination yet a practibrain disaster. And we all know exciting choices rarely pay off in the end.
So I’m trying to be good. Today I had the opportunity to do something fun but instead stayed home and ate 12 slices of cheesecake. Cause that is what Mr Rogers would do. Virtue today is happiness tomorrow. Thrills lead to chills. Aids. And death.
*FYI- I realize nobody wants to see my underwear. Men only feign sexual interest as a way of getting your money or something much worse.
This is not a picture of two women in love- it’s a picture of my brain. Two lobes disconnected each three burkas deep kept confused by a smattering of hearts.
Feel the fire inside again I try Try to let it burn and walk away Keep my eyes upon your feet don’t speak I promise to do what you say
But what did you said about time man? I can’t remember the words Backwards and silver and fine man That was the message I heard
And I’m coming to you empty You not coming for me
Look into you eyes again I try Try to let you leave why would I care Just a vacuum in my chest and head swims Battered around by the air
What can I say you’re a hard man You don’t need anyone’s words Nothing like me I’m so soft man Swallowing all that I’ve heard
And I’m coming to you empty You not coming for me
Want to reach your arm and grab your hand Everything you are it seems so true Like a soldier you complete and I flow Round at the bottom of you
Swirl backwards and silver and fine Everything that you believe man Is just the reflection of time
An what did they said about time man? Can you remember the words? Backwards and silver and fine man Swallowing all that it heard
Place your finger on the window seal tap it three times three. Lift your eyes towards the skies and tell me what you see.
I can see him blowing in again, glowering like the corn. Wrap the black around me I won’t take it anymore.
Do you think I’ll feel this way again? Do you think I’ll feel the same? Black clouds coming down and all I can feel again is rain.
Half of life is memory. Half of life is storm. Tell yourself it’s changing when it’s only shifting form.
Half of life is far away, misty and unclear. Feel the fog surround you but that’s only when he’s near.
Do you think you’ll feel this way again? Do you think you’ll feel the same? Black strings coming down and all that I can feel is rain.
You’ll let me know somehow the ways That you’ll allow you know I never disappoint. A cloud for you I’ll be a fog a mystery To fade then vanish to a point.
Place your hand upon my forehead now Turn me three times round. Stars behind my eyes and then I’m falling on the ground.
Take the handkerchief away from me- I know where he goes. I know where the bodies lie and I know all the little things they hold.
Do you think you’ll feel this way again? Do you think you’ll feel the same? Black strings coming down and all that I can feel is rain.
One of my side hustles is offering legal advice and the question I get most is “Should I call the cops?”
Once I would have said yes. I like cops because they are protective. However, I’ve come to realize the answer is no.
Cops are not themselves. They are teeth in a giant mouth. The mouth of the legal system. You don’t want to end up in its belly. You don’t want to end up like me.
How I wish I could go back in time just a couple weeks and change my fate by refusing to speak to them.
But I am so used to speaking my mind in worlds where there are no consequences. It’s what I do. I didn’t know that if you flap your jaws in the presence of cops your whole life can change in an instant.
I wanted to talk to them. I was distraught, semi hysterical. I couldn’t stop crying. But I didn’t want anything to happen. I asked them if it was safe to talk to them. They said it was. Nothing would happen. I was so dumb back then. I didn’t know the role of cops is to move food from the mouth into the belly.
Next thing James is in jail. Not what I wanted. I pleaded with the cops, telling them they would be punishing me more than anyone. Without James I literally had zero access to money, phone, transportation etc (100% of his funds are in crypto which I don’t know how to access.) Do you have any friends or family? No. Well, don’t worry, there are plenty of resources to assist you. Don’t worry. There are so many resources out there. Just call this number and they’ll take care of you.
I called the number. They said they maybe I could have two bus passes if I promised to use them for something important and not to go gallivanting around town.
Every step along the way I am told not to worry- there are so many resources available. They are protecting me. I say being homeless doesn’t feel like protection. They say well maybe they can get me a discount on a counseling session. I say I don’t need mental help. They say well maybe we could get you into a pottery class at the helping hands center. Do you like crafts?
I am The Victim. Everywhere I go there are Victim’s Advocates. They pull me into little chambers where there are crayons and coloring books. They give me hugs and stare into my eyes with caring looks. I try to explain that I’m neither retarded nor insane. My concerns are material. I don’t want to be homeless. They tell me my life is worth more than my home. Yeah, but I really don’t want to be sitting out on the sidewalk with no place to go. I have two dogs. Honey, I understand that but we need to keep you safe. There are so many resources.
Oh really. The night the cops arrested James they didn’t want to take me back home for safety reasons. So they tried to find a women’s shelter to put me in. Every shelter within a hundred mile radius was full. Finally they found a shelter where I was allowed to be locked in a little room next to a trash can. I was hyperventilating & screams would come out because I didn’t want James to be arrested. There was a woman on the other side of the glass. She was laughing with her friend because she had asked me if I wanted her to call a paramedic and I didn’t know what one was.
The shelter was basically a female prison. They said I couldn’t enter the main building unless I was showered & put in a new outfit. Hard pass. There was one room where 20 women slept on bunks. Some women high on drugs were banging on the door to the trash room trying to get in.
A magistrate has ruled I can have no contact with James until his trial. Not even through a third party. And no financial support either. For my own protection. Because there are so many resources out there.
I will survive though. Facebook friends sent me money to get me through the first round of utilities being turned off. Selling my possessions on ebay is working better than expected. I found an extra mini part time job. But what if I didn’t have these things? What if I had kids rather than dogs? What if I hadn’t known to open a bank account the week before due to being an astrologer? Without that one piece in place I’d have no water or power. It makes me feel weird that putting me in peril is happening in the name of making me safe.
A lawyer said it’s cause they are terrified of women getting killed by their husbands cause then everyone gets in trouble. The magistrates, the cops, the mayors. Whereas if the women die in other ways, not their problem. After all there were plenty of resources out there.
So anyway, my legal advice is this- the cops are not your girlfriends. Think twice before spilling your guts because your whole life can change in an instant.
James gets out of jail. I may have given the impression in previous posts that he left me for another woman (I also received condolences on his death.) That was me trying to keep up appearances. He is out now but I’m not allowed to see him until his trial on October 25th at which I am expected to be a witness. Apparently this is the exception to the rule that you can’t be compelled to testify against your spouse. I don’t know that it should be an exception however.
Also I must point out for legal reasons that this photo was not given to me by James. In truth it wasn’t.
I’m scared because tomorrow an astrological storm begins. It’s in James’s chart, not mine, but those are the worst. My transits tend to play out more internally- I draw a black cloud in my journal- while his involve car chases, explosions & wild animals.
Maybe it will be okay. My current strategy is to try to talk about transits as much as possible before they happen. “By the way James, tomorrow at 2 pm you’ll have an explosive rage transit.” He still feels the energy, but expecting it makes it less likely to be randomly projected at the nearest target (me).
This works well for little moon transits, which only last a few hours and are mostly about feelings anyway. But the upcoming storm is about 8 days long. The sun will ignite an underground river of slut fuel. A couple titans duke it out in the house of sex, death & money. It may be okay. Storms happen all the time. I just try to worry about them as much as possible before hand in case it helps.
As I shared before, I’m currently having a Saturn square Mercury transit. It’s basically shining a spotlight on all the negative thoughts I hold, all the things which bring me down. So while the voices are telling me I suck day and night, the good part is, it’s also giving me a chance to change some of my problematic thinking.
For example, I’d like to retract a blog post I wrote a few days back, expressing my love for the book ‘Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus.” I’ve decided it’s a crock of shit. And this is after 4 years of devotion. I even put the author on my top ten heroes list.
Cause when it comes down to it, what the book is really saying is suck ass constantly and you’ll have less friction in your relationships. Which is true. But is it a good way to live? Cause all those aspects of yourself you suppress just pile up behind you like ghosts. Eventually they cause problems of their own. Suppression of self is an emergency measure to use when kidnapped- it shouldn’t be a long term marriage strategy. It can’t be the ideal.
Although things are going pretty well with James. We found a new hobby. Watching movies. In the theater, where popcorn is $5 but refills & melted butter are unlimited. It’s the best thing ever. I like it when he chooses the movie so I am immersed in a world of foreign, exotic energies.
Not to sound schizophrenic, but it really feels like these movies are being handcrafted by God and filled with special messages just for me. I learn so much about astrology, the future, men, myself and everything really. It’s great.
2. The Black Phone. This perfectly expressed the third decan of Pisces we are now in. A time when people must be willing to confront the darkness and finally gather courage to stand and fight.
3. Jurassic Park. Traumatic. People getting eaten triggers me. I ran out of the theater crying, but James used logic to calm me down. He said the dinosaurs were CGI and not puppets. Therefore it would be impossible for them to eat anyone. He also explained that watching bad guys get eaten is good for men’s testicles. (I’m paraphrasing.) So I returned to my seat and watched the rest of the movie. It made me feel tough actually, and getting tough in preparation for 2024 is one of my goals.
4. Elvis. A beautiful movie. I didn’t get to extract its meaning though, cause at the end when I was crying and letting it all sink in James began whispering in my ear all the clues that Elvis was gay. I felt his theory held water but the mental processing erased the movie’s emotional impact on me. Using intellect to dry up emotion is the gift and curse of Virgo.
