Libra 19° (October 12)
Not a whole helluva lot left to do before I can get my pea brain around what really needs addressing. So I must go back to the man in the desert. We were staying with a once and no longer friend (too many of those which is the source of so much of my pain over the last half a decade) out in Wonder Valley near Twenty Nine Palms. The distances between everything there is at least twenty minutes. So we had left the house and gone to a local lunch spot half hour away and passed the book store we kept saying we would go into and it was probably the fifth time we passe him, a Jesus figure on a bicycle whom, we now realize, was making a bunch of trips to that book store carting a small stack a time, over the course of the entire week we were there. (I do want to go back by the way). I think about moving there but I don’t like scorpions, especially, nor do I like Mormons or other religious doorsteppers show up and ringing the bell. I could say I digress but really from where? I don’t actually have a departure point here other than the fact I just piced up a book that I think I got from that book store. We finally made it there and there were these major stacks, about drug-store-counter high, as we walked in and the lady at the till looked a bit put upon. That’s when we learned that “someone” had been dropping off all these books. We took a look and not only were there a slew of astrology books in the mix, some of which were out of print and we had been trying to find for eons, but all sorts of books on metaphysics and so forth. And it seemed Jesus on the bike had been the culprit unloading them all. We bougth the lot and had them sent back to Cape Cod. Now I don’t read much…let me rephrase that: I have spent a great many years, probably a decade at least, not reading much, which (I agree) now feels like a shame. I can feel that a switch has suddenly been flipped and now I must read. And anyway Game of Thrones is over and I’m not falling for a joke(s on me for watching all these years) again. So I pick up a book today, the first from that lot, and it turns out to be a Quest book published by the Theosophical society. But you will see that one of the only papers now left on my desk is a two-year old note to myself, prompting the writing of daily Blagues with ideas. And I wrote Theosophy, folllowed by Man In Desert, followed by Nemesis, the only idea for which I had scribbled down some note. I don’t know where I’m going with this either, so just bear with me. I know this much: I am feeling very tired indeed and have a goodly amount of work to accomplish and am determined to hit my mark. New paragraph:
That was a pretty long one, so perhaps I only need write one more today. Anyway, I made a homemade cherry tomato ketchup for turkey bacon sandwiches on gluten-free English muffinss. I used what was leftover as a marinade for chicken. I’m still so hungry today that I will again roast potatoes but we will serve with kale. Tomorrow we start doing things slightly more dietitic-like. So much of what has gone down since 2007, when we first dug into Provincetown, was pretty much over by, let’s say, 2014; and I have not had the kind of community I once enjoyed, pretty much, since that time. I try to understand why it is we are shut out of things others aren’t, but there truly is no rhyme or reason to it. People can be put off by us, I think, because we aren’t conformist and we don’t kiss ass and we call people out on their shit and all of the above. But it does sting a bit when people who do not know me make it a point to telegraph that they have been forewarned or something. I know it sounds like paranoia but it isn’t. And as I say it stings a bit, but it doesn’t really hurt, and also I’m used to it. (I don’t think there is any amount of coffee in Brazil that could keep me from falling asleep at the writing wheel right now.) What was I saying. Oh yeah. Well everything happens for a reason of that I am shittin’ sure. And though I do need to check my isolation I never feel more lonely than when I’m alienated in a crowd, which has often happened—a sort of active marginalization sets in where, because I’m not the loudest activist or attention getter in the room, or maybe just because I’m INFJ, it’s not so much that I lose the thread but feel that people lose mine. I definitely need a new scene of that I am certain. We are in some ways a natural fit for Provincetown, being very liberal, open minded and rather queer adjacent, but, like everything, things are becoming so polarized and I feel that, when push comes to shove, the Ptown peoples really want to revel in their queerness, and I can’t blame them for that. It just doesn’t naturally include us, socially. It’s almost as if I feel I make people self-conscious. That and the fact that I call out bullshit where, and from whomever, I find it. So I’m really not the kind of fellow with whom one can get away with murder. I do make an effort to be kind, don’t get me wrong—but, I don’t know, I think because Provincetown is such a warped variation on a high school theme, the really popular kids are either the super rich editorial gays or the down and out artistes (who are also super rich and just pretend they aren’t). I am going to paint my office red I’ve decided. Won’t be terribly easy but not so bad either. It turns out this paragraph might actually be as long as the previous one. And this is thus a natural end.
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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