Virgo 16° (September 8)
I was asking myself today what would a perfect day be like. I think it would be me rising for an hour by myself, having some tea or water, and tweeting out some S +C thought in the morning in regard to the cosmic weather or positioning. I might then go and read of my old Blague on the Sabian Symbol, and more about that symbol in general. Then write a few lines about it for the Blue Book. These thoughts may or may not be represented in the new Blague, or I may again link back, looping through again for another year. Anyway I would open my daily Blague file and have it open most of the day just to keep writing into—various thoughts and what not that can go in this direction or that—and QC would tweet/gram about that and share S + C and vice versa; as well as anything Stella, product, and the tweets of our closest friends and allies. Afterglow would do a tweet and gram per day, only. At noon, there might be another tweet or gram from S + C on various theme(s). I would have an early morning yoga and lunch. The day would consist of the hours between 2-7, for the purpose of the collection, and then one would have a soup or small salad, 10 being my ultimate bedtime. Work from 6-8 or nine, yoga then lunch until 2 then a good 5 hours of dedicated work for the collection; of course clients fall into those hours as well. As does any administration regarding projects with ad agencies or other fashion companies, that don’t have a product component, but might want to feature us in their shops as well.
I believe I may have to get my PhD from the Sorbonne in Metaphysics. It will only take me about ten years but so what? I too will have become somewhat astute at this sort of thing and Stella can help me; or I was thinking Harvard Divinity School for some kind of spiritual degree. I know it sounds crazy but why not. Stella is well on her way and she managed to fit it in some how. There are crazier things to consider than that. I don’t want to spend very much time in New York City; I have a morbid fear of doing so. It would make so much sense on so many levels and yet sense isn’t really what motivates me or rather sensibility isn’t. Sense does very much in the Jane Austen sense—ha, ha! I know there is a balance; and for one more year at least we will do first things first. And that means combing through the existing existence and eliminating majorly.
I need to ritualize saying goodbye, even to objects; well especially objects, actually, in many cases. I feel I can say goodbye if someone is watching me do it. I know that sounds crazy. And I could just record everything for the camera before dumping it, which let’s face it, I was always going to do. This is me hanging on to ephemera within an emphemeral existence. If Einstein can die who the fuck is going to miss me? Some people but not many. I’m not a crowd pleaser to be perfectly honest. You have to really know me to love me and most people really don’t—know me, that is.
I had this journalist aggressd me today and I was really having none of it. I took screenshots of her spew and sent it directly to her manager. Then saw she apologized so I wrote said manager to say never mind. Forgiveness is all. It really is. But fuck these people who think you owe them…for what? I don’t owe anybody anything and they owe me nothing in return. I am on top of my shit and I juggle a lot of shit, so don’t come knocking at my door or my Facebook Messenger LOL to wipe all your poor pity me angry insecure bullshit. I don’t have time for that. The voice in my head is a righteous black woman. And it’s not the Maya Angelou type of righteous, or even the sort of peturbed and put-off voice of Nina Simone; no the voice in my head is way more sort of worldly wise Southern, proud, warm and loving, but still not taking any shit. You hear me boy? Oh I hear you voice in my head.
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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