Aries 22 °
So I started a new astrological year, with the first sign of Aries, of the Cosmic Blague. And I wrote twenty one of them. That is to say I got to 21° of Aries and then life got in the way. We’re now at 24° degrees of Taurus, over a month later, and I have posted a single entry. Now, most people would think: so what?—maybe you don’t want to do it really. Others would say: so just restart today—and, by the way, you don’t have to write it every day; just write when you feel like it; otherwise you’ll drive yourself crazy; you’re so compulsive; why are you so hard on yourself; I’m leaving you. Okay maybe they would say all that but they could.
You see the problem is I don’t have a problem finishing things. I don’t have a problem with completion. I have a problem NOT finishing things. I have a problem with closure, I guess. If that makes sense. Who knows. If I stop to think about it I will never “catch up.” Yes that’s right folks. I am that weird and that compulsive that I have to “catch up”. That means that I’ll be writing two Blagues a day until—let me check the CHART i just made—until June 17. That’s over another month. If I stick to it. Which I better. Because I know myself and if I don’t I’m going to feel like a failure. Over a Blague. Which I created. And it’s a choice. Yes folks I’m that self-sabotaging that I will start a Blague and if I don’t write it every day then I will label myself a loser and fall into a great depression. That is the Cosmic Joke of this situation, which is supposed to be the theme of this Blague (means joke in French while just sounding like Blog)—I am supposed to be using this daily writing as a means of exploring the cosmic jokes of life and, perhaps, get myself into a place where I might actually channel what is meant to be my natural humor into “material.”
That was the point. Year one of this, I mused on the Sabian Symbols which are esoteric phrases that depict a visual scene; these symbols were “divined” by two mystics and are meant to symbolically represent the energy of the day slash particular degree of the Zodiac that corresponds to that day. Well that’s not funny. But it did trigger some philosophical and metaphysical along with some stories from my life many of which I suppose are funny or tragic or both. But when I re-booted this Blague I thought, right, I’m really going to use it as a “bucket” with which I can catch (or into which I can throw) BITS of comic insight and exposition on which would likely be along a cosmic-joke, Murphy’s Law type of theme. But what did I end up doing instead? I started writing episodes from my life starting from early childhood. And by the time I got to 21° Aries I think I was only still about ten years old. It’s not a totally futile thing to do. And part of me thinks that’s the way to continue. And that maybe I should get “back” to that (and I probably will) but I also want to move forward with this bucket and find the funny if I can. Or I want to do both. But right now I’m doing neither, I’m just talking about what I’m doing. I’m meta. Yes that’s what I am. “I’m a Seagull, no I’m an actress.” If you didn’t get that reference I don’t care. I do have a funny story about being in The Seagull on Broadway but I probably already told it in the 360 Blagues I wrote year one. Oh no. I have to go back through my Blagues. How can I go back through my Blagues and also write new Blagues. How does anybody have any time to do anything in this world. I have a funny Blague I started writing on that particular theme but I didn’t finish it. Well, it’s not quite done. It will make it in here someday.
Oh did I mention that since I decided not to Shutdown but Restart and made my chart of writing two Blagues a day, I was then so tired from figuring all that out that I didn’t write my two Blagues. That was yesterday. So today I have to start by already making up the make up; meaning I have to write four Blagues today. My life is Lucy’s chocolate factory. Only it’s self inflicted. So this is the first of yesterday’s two Blagues and now I have to write three more in the next forty-five minutes. Why forty-five minutes, you ask? Because, on top of everything else I’ve decided to inflict the pain of “timed writing” as the cherry on top of my self-flagellating foray into Blague writing. Namaste.
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