Libra 15° (October 10)

 

Today I’m slightly more productive but only because we decided to keep it somewhat real. Watched the end of the entire series of Unbelievable and I have to say it was fairly ok. I am zeroing in on my work and on my feelings. Today is not today. Today is two days hence. And for the third night in a row I have awoken at two-thirty in the morning. This is not good, and once again I feel I need to take a bit of a mental health day, where I will finish the so-called busy work, I will make some headway on tee shirts. I will write a check and put it in an envelope and mail it. I will map out my schedule. I will put through laundry. And I will read and read and re-read all my notes. I need to get off the merry go round which actually has stopped. I will figure out all this doctor stuff. It’s just boring and nothing more. I don’t know how I feel about Griffin Dunne, but I do know I love Vanessa Redgrave. I see people, drunk, presenting live missives on social media and all I can think is that they are operating in a blackout. I will watch the Joan Didion documentary several times over and over. The evenings have been ending badly and I can’t even tell you now which one is which. I think tonight will be particularly maleficent but I’m not really clear on that either. I know I’m nearly ready. It’s now six thirty and I’ve been up for four hours. I don’t mind being this shagged out. I will find a way, without fail to sleep in the day. I only hope I won’t have someone under my window playing a radio. I’m panicked at the thought of it actually. I must find various ways to stave off that sort of aggravation. The true recovery begins today. I’m not good to anybody being this tired. The timing really couldn’t be worse for this doucebag and hi evil deck that injured me so severely. I think I’m finally getting angray about it. I need to make sure that all is okay. I need to also mention to the doc that I have a terrible ache now that it wakes me up. I will get myself the rehabilitation i deserve. My bones feel a bit creakier than they should but that is just a matter of being too sedentary these past months.

I have a good eighteen to twenty days to make a wow, here. And even then it will be handed off and looked at and polished to perfection or else what would be the point in submitting it. Those evil fuckers at the William Morris Agency. They will pay. Well, really, they already have haven’t they? Because they have to be agents. Anyway it’s weird to watch a show and know a whole bunch of actors on it. I really just need to get some major thoughts down today. I do not have to reinvent the wheel. I’m going to do what I need to do for myself today and then I can be available to others. I actually couldn’t remember the name of the agent who represented us for years at William Morris—I spent an hour trying to let the name come to me. It isn’t so much a matter of my memory. It is hinged upon the fact, not only that the trauma of the experience drives her from my brain, but because she was so vacuuous a being in the end, a nervously blinking adding machine, making money for the WME factory. Today I am doing this entry, the one for tomorrow and the one for the day after. That is my job. Then I will have met myself, if you know what I mean by that. If you have spent anytime reading me on here you would know that.

Oh I see what’s going on here. We are living in illusion or is it allusion. We only have a few minutes to make some magic here so we better get cracking. The places your mind will go. Oh, Amy, I had your back. It’s so sad how sad things can be. Her mother died and obviously she got to a place where she had more free money and it turned her a bit into an asshole, but she was always a different kind of one anyway. I loved Anne. I tried a thousand times with Amy. And then she ended up turning on me anyway. I want to record this somewhere. Otherwise it would be so unfair to myself. The trouble with angels. Virgo woman is not my favorite character. Maybe I’ll do another sign first. I’ll do Sagittarius first and then Virgo, or some such. Virgo fucking depresses me. The Radiance. The Rhythm. The Beat. The Best. The Spark. The Pilot. The Pure. It is very possible I need to do a quick disappearing disguise act (how Virgo) because soon I will not be alone and I need to be asleep frankly. I know what I need. I need to meet people in real time. And I need to take myself out for a few days. I need to swim and spa. I think that might be what I do? With my time? When I’m alone spree for a spa? Is this really me. No. It most definitely is not. I am listening to commercial, terrestrial radio playing hits from the seventies, with some early eighties sprinkled in. Oh em gee the early eighties. I was at the coming of age age and it feels so wonderful to remember the feeling which makes me feel really happy to know that I was happy then when my mind would have convinced me I was unhappy then I guess I wasn’t. I loved being alive at that time of life. I loved going off to college, reading my catalogue, something that became a later theme,

 

To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

 

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
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