Sagittarius 8° (December 1)

 

George Bush I died. I know I shouldn’t be suckered by the likes of Andrea Mitchell and other supposedly progressive MSNBC type characters into a revisionist view of him; but, at the same time I can’t stand this knee-jerk liberal move to offer only good riddance. I know he wasn’t a moral saint who wanted a kinder America—I realize the thousand points of light thing was at least half a ploy. But he did work with Clinton and other democrats in the last twenty-five years; and I think he was far better than his scion; and he surely is better than the orange crap we have now. Anyway I just saw Brad Meltzer put up this long tribute. He whose career was in such large part made by gay men who really invested in him. Oh I don’t know what to think any more. Everything gets normalized. Oh well, I guess that’s the way the history cookie crumbles. Anyway, I can’t let Andrea Mitchell in black bum me out. I have stuff to do. I’ll just say I’m happy for members of the Bush family to have managed to live so long without consciences.

Oh well maybe we can stop talking about that dynasty now and focus on the dissolution of the present crime family. And I can get back to what can only be considered my excitement addiction. Tomorrow is back to Glow day which is fine. I think I’m sufficiently catching up in all my other arenas. “I hate that term,” (I paraphrase) is something I hear quite often; as often, at least, as I say it which is, well, often. The sustained spirit of elation that is the truest form of any euphoria is kept alive by diligance and determination for truth and goodness and honesty. If we just keep taking baby steps and human bites all should unfold pretty readily of its own accord. We are all the vessel and the vehichle. Certain enlightment would be achieved by the firing on all twelve cylinders. The creative part that makes my heart sing the most has to be the most constant throughline, the broadest band in my eternal width. That’s terrible.

Tomorrow I will catch up on all things Glow Festival which will be fun. I look forward to making some major inroads on that score in the next two months. Today, though, I start the process of getting the words into my brain. I’ve had a script for some time now but it’s sort of just an example of things I could say. I mean I will hit most marks anyway. It’s just a matter of how painful I allow the process to be which, I would like to say: not at all. It can all be turned into something way more pleasurable at this point and one of the other subjects I go on about so ad nauseum that I won’t even mention here is still an ongoing issue. Let’s just say I have success on that score in my sites. I’m sure I have some form of ADHD; I’m also pretty certain that this Blague was unconsciously/subconsciously designed to help me get over it. OMG, last year in February I realized I hadn’t written a single day’s entry since early October. Do you remember that? I had to catch up on five months. But I did it; and only slightly cheated a little here and there. Now I need to stay on topic which is the day.

There are so many ways to slice and dice the next few weeks of the year; and I do plan on entering 2019 with a renewed hope. I can’t get everything from any one. But I do think i can get a lot in the process by giving myself more time and space. Also in the offering of myself forgiveness. We used to have this expression, dating back to 1984/5 called “second semester” which is a blanket term to describe a sort of self-imposed ascetism and forgoing of such earthly pleasures that aren’t conducive to a little weight loss, the if only slight changing of hair and fashion style, plus an uptick in overall clarity as evidenced in part by a longlost glimpse in cheekbones and the reemerging of some semblance of a jawline.

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree of the Sabian Symbol may be higher than the one listed here  as the symbols cluminate in the next degree. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 days.

 Typos happen—I don’t have time or an intern to edit.*
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