Five packets of goldfish, each one with a mate.
Very Libra, Very Pisces, Very Virgo, and the man?
Saturn in Sagittarius (look at his fantastic pants!)
Six is my number.
All evens work for me actually. I’ve always loved them, maybe because I’m odd?
A push to do something today, and an awareness of the futility.
Go head and do it, (something)
Something a little out of the ordinary.
Or something ordinary with an awareness of how strange everything actually is.
As part of a longer poem called Necessities,
Lisel Muller writes:
The illusion of progress. Imagine our lives without it:
tape measures rolled back, yardsticks chopped off.
Wheels turning but going nowhere.
Paintings flat, with no vanishing point.
The plots of all novels circular;
page numbers reversing themselves past the middle.
The mountaintop no longer a goal,
merely the point between ascent and descent.
All streets looping back on themselves;
life as a beckoning road an absurd idea.
Our children refusing to grow out of their childhoods;
the years refusing to drag themselves
toward the new century.
And hope, the puppy that bounds ahead,
no longer a household animal. ~
Isn’t that the modern condition, an awareness of the illusion of progress,
science finally beginning to voice that long held supposition of the circularity, almost the irrationality of time?
All moments taking place simultaneously, all choices having already been made, or perhaps our experience authored by our biologic function, as we are creatures who breathe and perceive by the skin we are in, and no other…
Yet, we are permeated by experience, shot through with delight, and pain, and here is the clincher, surprise.
Brought to life again and again by the unforeseen.
Shock is a life giver and how subtly and thoroughly we engineer and orchestrate our shocks, and where we fall down on the job, the universe will provide.
I’m noticing the Saturn/Neptune square almost as a foreboding,
an uneasy truce with some sort of unreality.
Time is slipping by, and something must be done. Has it been done?
Are we disappearing the correct boundaries?
No man’s land.
We are aware of the extremes and though we fully believe,
we live in the in-betweens.
Contradiction is the construct.
Can you make a wish?
Can you disappear?
Compromise. It’s very adult isn’t it.
Give something up, to get something else.
Voltaire’s Chart is below