I had an argument with the poet.
Scratch that, he said something I don’t agree with and I just let him keep talking.
I did that a lot. He talked and I loved listening to him, regardless of content.
Horoscopes and zodiacs.
Most of the horoscopes we are subjected to look like someone took a bunch of random words and sentences and jammed them in a hat, pulled out 3 or 4 and voila. Here is your prediction for the day. Not unlike the false psychics who use random letters and names to read your face and response, who had you cased by your body language the minute you sat down. They can’t read your future but they can read you.
“I’m getting a strong N vibration.”
“N, newsstand, he worked at a news stand.” (Reality Bites)
A human being in pain will cling to the flimsiest of flotsam trying to survive.
I have admitted with great frequency that I consider Rob Brezsny’s Free Will Astrology to be a religious doctrine. It’s my blankie. I am allowed and allotted a blankie. The world is scary and sad sometimes. I think the reason I love him so much is because he doesn’t say ‘hey this is going to happen this week.’ Rather he eloquently asks questions and gently nudges me in directions. Pointing out gaps in the labyrinth I may have not seen on my own. He is enlightened and has a very evolved view of the world and the human condition.
I don’t see a huge difference between me reading his words and meditating on it, and someone else going to church and listening to a preacher interpret the words of God. I believe all churches can be both blankies and jumping off points to better yourself as a human being.
I am a Green Gemini Wood Tiger. I identify as such. It’s a vague category that gives me a small sense of self. With benefits. Remember way back when, in kindergarten, you were just waking up to the idea that there was a world outside of your head and your home. Friendships forged over something as simple as ‘hey we both have yellow shirts”? It’s a little bit of comradery.
As far as zodiac signs go. If enough people believe something, it ends up being partially true.
I would never discount another being based on their birthday, but I will subtly bend how I deal with someone based on their sign.
For example, the poet is a Sagittarius. He talked about himself, at great length. His opinions are law, and as such could only be bent. Any attempt to break them and…prison. Solitary, here I remain.
This is the same poet that sparked The Little Known Plague of Male Poets article.
I have been hurt before but this was un-anaesthetized evisceration followed by murder.
Insult to injury.
I had so many women come to me before and after saying, ‘wow, this is the truth’. We both have yellow shirts, let’s be friends. I had male poets smiling and sharing and asking if I was alright, also wearing yellow shirts.
And then, oh the ‘and then’… I had so many men burst into this screaming mewling bullshit coated chorus of ‘not all men though’ that polluted my ears after I had my heart ripped out.
Seriously. Fuck you guys.
I know not all men though. I raised a man to not be like that. I was raised by a man who is not like that. I surround myself with men that are not fucking like that.
In fact, if all men behaved the way some men do, the human race would have died out years ago. Vaginas would have been voluntarily sewn shut. Gated communities akin to the Isles of Lesbos everywhere. The end.
I got off track here, it’s a thing I do, I wander.
The poet said the following. ‘You cannot divide all of human kind into 12 categories based on planets and stars that have gone far and wide from their original flight paths’.
No way you can divide billions of people into 12 categories. I concur.
Its just 2.
Souls and no souls.
We are living in a dark/light time my darlings.
The Guf has been empty for a while now, God’s ant farm has gone awry, we are recycling consciences and consciousness down here.
Simply put we have too many bodies, not enough souls to go around.
It is visible to the naked eye via social media and the World Wide Web. Every time you see an instance of child neglect or animal abuse or murder. All of those poems and stories about heartache and ghosts. I am part of the group that says/thinks, “I do not understand how this is possible. I cannot fathom a mind that believes these abominations to be ‘okay. ” Human being don’t go around destroying other beings. It’s that simple.
So what are these Others? These purveyors of pain and sadistic indifference?
Not lost souls, they are beings born without.
Psychologists call those who lack sociopaths, diagnose Borderline Personality Disorder, narcissism. I just see emptiness. For the longest time, I didn’t understand why being near these people caused me pain.
I have met the Others, these…voids. They are everywhere The true definition of meat puppet. Sure they walk and talk, but there is nothing IN there. They cause an unpleasant sensation in me, like nanoseconds before an earthquake, body feeling the vibration, or lack thereof really, before my brain catches up and registers ‘danger’.
What makes it worse is when they claim to be ‘light workers’ and ‘indigo children’ and enlightened. False positives. Their internal CPU’s have almost managed to think for themselves but they are machines, trying to adapt. They learn the language, just like the zombie fuck boy poets, and it’s hard not to be fooled. I want to see the good so badly, I’ve see it when it isn’t there.
Why are they adapting? Lying? Why can’t they be their suburban, paper pushing, top-40 listening, Hyundai driving selves? They live in the land of plenty. Why do they want to cross over? Basically, what is the end game? This is the question that haunts me.
There are islands of safety and sanity, those with souls reaching out to each other. I will be forever grateful to have been born in this time. I struggled my whole life feeling strange and alone. I fought my basic instincts to love always. I didn’t make sense. Now the veils are lifting and I can see clearly.
There’s a war coming. Light versus dark.
I hate to spoil the ending, but Light wins.