The wrap up for Saturn in Scorpio makes me think of New Years Eve.
Not one in the movies, or even the best from true life, boozy and deliberately, extravagantly, ostentatiously, fortuitous. Glitzy, replete with a casual serendipity, gloriously indicative of the year to come. A new year where we are generous in our connections to others, calm hearts and wild hopes commingling.
More like an incognito undocumented moment, where high drama was already born and recently died, where fathomless relief at the close of a chapter, is a heartfelt sensation. Relief, unnamed in many cases.
Where what you don’t have makes an appearance. Lack.
Can we wash our hands not of a time, or a place, which we do continually, but of a sentiment, an interdependance? Sticky convoluted threads and tendrils, that won’t be severed no matter where you cut.*
Is it possible to change your luck?
Have you had a New Year where you choke on a sliver of remorse so pungent it makes your eyes water, and you wash it down with a fearful admiration of your own endurance?
Or where you close your eyes so you don’t have to see?
It’s not like it was all your doing.
A year is plenty of time to tangle a rope,
which was supposed to be a lifeline,
which has in fact brought you here, & here you are, still alive!
Truth be told, much improved. Some problems have been solved,
terrifying isn’t it?
Awake where you were sleeping. Dizzy but not dead.
Only, it’s not been a year, it’s taken two and a half,
which is more than enough time to gestate a baby elephant,
but not nearly enough to produce a frilled shark.
It’s morning where I am, but it is certainly midnight somewhere.
In honor of the eternal nature of midnight, let’s have some confessions.
Nothing too gory, we are at a party!
I’ll go first:
I love shallots better than garlic,
and kissing nearly as much as having sex.
If I was rich beyond rich I would I would constantly be redecorating my home just like Auntie Mame. I’m happiest at the ocean, or in motion. Traveling with without a certain destination suits me much, much, better than fine.
I scream, or stifle a scream every time I see a cockroach. Howev the idea of bugs eating my dead body many, many, years from now is vaguely comforting. When I was a child I once stubbed my toe on a dead cat!
Alright, your turn!!!
Tell us in the comments!
Thanks for sticking with me through hard, sharp, sweet, crunchy, bitter, and better.
I love YOU!!!
Happy New Year!!!
*welcome to mercury retrograde in libra!
p.s. If you love me too, consider giving me five dollars every month to keep my astro-boat afloat! There’s a spot right at the top to make it happen. I need the juice! xoxox