Capricorn 23° (January 13)
The following blocks of text are exceprts from my first year of Blagues, nos. 1436-1440. I am reading through all of my Blagues, five per day, and posting some samples here. Now, in my sixth year of writing this Blague, by the time I get to my seventh, I will have journeyed through all the daily Blagues of my first five years. If that’s confusing I apologize. Year seven, I’ll only have to read through year six, once a day.
Breakdown: Today is our wedding anniversary. It’s thirty years. And neither of us seem to want to celebrate in any kind of grand way. I know we are private people and make nary a fuss about ourselves but honestly it is a very big deal. I haven’t really been in a celebratory head, strangely, feeling rather strung out and stretched thin by self-imposed busy work that constitutes getting a jump on things for the year. But I am rounding one particular bend now and it can be very painful to do so—writing is a blessing and a curse. Because there is no particular thing on the agenda I don’t feel like complicating matters here by trying to dredge up subjects to survey. I have enough on my plate to send me into nervous overload if not another word that might make for a scary pairing.
It might be cool to start the show on the subject of writing a new book. (Maybe I should write about Gemini woman. She is such a complex character and one which represents both the gift and the deal. That everything happens all at once in life. That’s one of the truisms.) And how I had to write and do all these things simultaneously and how I started getting strange neurological symptoms. That I had stopped working with outside “agencies” which literally was tantoumount to outsourcing my own. That publishing took the hit in 08 and 09; we had book deals and a design business and gigs writing horoscopes for silly money all kinds of places, and within a span of a year or so, most of those gigs dried up, our partners in the design business pulled out, publishers cancelled deals, and we had to grab onto whatever freelance flotsam we could to remain afloat, which we did en route to reclaiming said agency. Ari Emanuel gives Charlize Theron your book and she wants to make a TV show out of it and there are meetings and agents connecting us with writers and then a year goes by before you realize that Charlize and you have been told them same lie: That the other one of you wants to do a scripted show only while, for both parties, the opposite was true: we wanted to do a reality show. And you never know why WME lies to you both but when you broach the subject you’re dubbed some kind of problem child that was fun. Meanwhile you’re on talk shows and your new book has come out and there is hope but it definitely doesn’t seem to float.
But you’re you and you never fail so you pull at your bootstraps in a most Yankee fashion and you shake your Scarlett O’Hara fist to the heavens, while munching on a root vegetable, that you will never be in this position again. And you sit down and decide, right, we are going to do everything ourselves. And for starters we’re going to focus on the core of this enterprise and that is helping people, consulting them, and experiencing a hands-on rewarding process of making a real difference in others lives. And you say screw those magazines that no longer pay you to write horoscopes or features and you do it anyway, offering it up, free, for several years, to your readers. And you just forget agents and managers and lawyers—who needs them. If somebody wants a book from you they will one day organically, without effort, come into your live and tell you they are already a fan. And if you really want to relaunch your design business than others will invest in your doing that. Meanwhile you love to perform and help other artists make their way; so you start a non-profit and produce festivals and performances series and for nearly a decade you will do this because it feeds your soul. And then you wake up one day and all those things that fell away suddenly, and simultaneously, come back, greenlighted into your life and here you are a little bit overwhelmed. But that’s okay.
Because you will work your way through the miasma. And you will prioritize—first things first—and you will chip away, chip away, and sculpt your own multi-faceted Michaelangelo creation, from the inside-out. I’m going to spend this week mapping out all I want mapped out. I will have notes on how to restructure one of the proposal’s I’m putting out and can get that part sorted and have a new draft of the proposal proper by the end of the first week in May, realistically. And then spend the next three weeks writing the sample material. That means that between “now” and mid-May, I will have already scoured a good portion of the Blagues for material while making comment as to constitute new Blague. I’ve said things like this before but the process keeps needing to be refined as we merrily troll along.
I want to get my brain around a sort of list of priorities to discuss with our agent without overwhelming her because there is so much to do on that score. For starters I should look at the emails I would have sent to Tim B. regarding numbers and such; and to get an idea of where we are to date in terms of sales. Also we should discuss the Haute Astrology books and the prospect of making a deal for them. I want to talk about Sextrology and what can be figured out on the scroe—an inventory of all our foreign markets, plus the notion of updating (new edition) for HC. Hope all is well and looking forward…I want to go through all the notes, and sort of take, first a managing editor’s approach to the proposal, deciding what physical blocks should remain, move around or be removed altogether (we can decide what removed bits become fodder for the sample content and what should be totally cut).
The goal would be to get the proposal bit itself, then, in prime shape, start to finish, for presentation along with what will become the sample material. We would like to turn that bit around rather quickly. When it comes to the creation of sample material it will have to enter a bit of a queue as we have a number of projects currently in process that we would like to finish before giving complete focus to creating the sample content. We are going to look at our schedules and make a conservative determination. It might take a little time because, instead of saying any old thing, I think we will really take the opportunity, in the process of writing the sample chapter, to truly map out, as best we can at the onset, what might truly comprise the full range of marks we plan to hit in all the chapters, perhaps down to sidebar details and so forth, and be a bit circumspect in the process of creating would-be sample content instead of drafting what might be more like could-be sample content. To be more deliberate so to pave the way, creating more inroads, into speeding the plough on what will be the actual book-writing process.
Today (the day I’m writing this not the day listed above) has been another painful one. But the pain is put in my way so to transcend it. There are certain individuals that have passed through my life and caused me a lot of agita; and they have somehow converged within a large slice of a certain population where I once found community. One of the situations entails a very ill sycophant who over a decade ago used me as a stepping stone to meet certain people—the other was an old friend with a sadistic streak who gaslit me up the wazzoo. Somehow the worlds which they two entities inhabited became one and it would seem the gaslighting has become something akin to that green stuff they lit aflame in whatever episode that was of Game of Thrones, which is an ironic reference I didn’t even think I was making because there are people involved with that show who pepper this conversation.
But what is a person to do. I’m not the kind to try and defend myself against bogus slings and arrows. I’m the rise-above-it kind on this planet who will forgo friendships rather than fight for them. I cannot dignify such scenarios where the mercenary have thrown me under the bus; if people want to believe I’m the bad guy in such cases I will certainly let them. It’s just the way I am and what I do. I will always seek the higher grand and bid good riddance to old baggage. Still it hurts when you have to do it. There is no avoiding that. In one instance the sycophant gave my friend (to whom I was that stepping stone) heroin. This made me so furious because this bad apple had once tried to feed me anough percocet on which would could overdose. He’s a pusher, that’s what he is. And instead of running for the hills my other friend tried the fucking heroin.
Meanwhile I had been so furious when I heard (from yet another mutual friend that pushy pusherson and brought this friend a vial of death that I texted the sycophant and said I rather tame and metaphoric “I’d like to punch you in the nose” for giving so-and-so drugs like that. I became the bad guy. Meanwhile the friend who took the pushing once told me, when I politely asked if he minded my contacting a musician friend with whom he previously worked, to fill in for a gig that he would be very hurt. Well this sychophantic pusher (who is trying to collect famous friends, you see) was once a musician friend of ours who pulled a major fast one on us, which the other friend knew about; and yet that didn’t prevent this friend from succombing to the worship of said sycophant. If you could follow all that you deserve a medal. Anyway, I will get over all this in the end. I’m already over it. And they can all have each other (in the end, I realize, they all vibrate at a very low level despite appearances on social media); and I suppose I am more saddened to learn that the friend I thought was better than all that really isn’t.
I read yesterday’s entry and it pains me and I cringe at the same time. It’s so obvious how hurt I am but really I just sound bitter. But, even for that, I must forgive myself. I am not perfect or blameless in most situations but if one stays in the hurt nothing will ever change; by the same token I think it is important to be vulnerable and honest about ones feelings. If I were any kind of dimestore guru (which I am half the time), I would mask my vulnerabilities. Blame is the premier sympton thereof. Good for Virgo. I am starting to feel some kind of flow on the book writing side of things. Anyway t’will all be fine; we shall make it so. I have already been the bigger person. I always forgive. I’m the one who reaches out with the olive branch always, even to a fault. So I really don’t have anything to feel bad about. Everybody has there reasons for doing the stupid things that they do. And when it comes to Taurus people, for instance, it always comes down to vanity and vaingloriousness. I’ve always loved that word. I think I take this opportunity to know what I know, to keep my head low (i.e. power through) and stop worrying about the world around me. I will continue to reach out and send love and all the rest of it; I needn’t mind what comes back. This is something a Libra must learn.
Anyway I woke up at 3:14 this morning after going to bed at nearly 11, but instead of just lying there I got up to get out of me what was keeping me awake. I already feel better although it is two and one-half hours later and here I am, still, having written a mere paragraph. Little matter. My head is getting sorted, between sneaks online for whether Melisandre will return to Winterfell or random listings on Zillow. The birds started in at 4:30 and now the cars are revving up on the road. I heard a fisher cat last night and I awoke from a dream about two ferocious felines on the bit of lawn between our old house and barn, which I had two cross, with two companions, one of whom was S., I believe, and one a younger girl, blonde I think. I ushered them along as I kept the big cats at bay with I think a towel or a blanket. It was clear I was going to be attacked by these animals and clawed and gnawed to death so I woke up. The cats were tabby I remembered in the bathroom which immediately recalled visiting a friend with two domestic versions.
Maybe I was somehow traumatized by that trip? I don’t think so, although it could be a sadness over missing our house as our visit was to a friend’s new abode. That friend had once visited us at ours, some twelve or so years ago, so perhaps that is the dream code on that one cracked. Not so deep after all. Anyway, my dreams have been crazy vivid of late; and I’m going to chalk that up to a bunch of things, a certain positive withdrawal from toxic relationships and my self-deriving thoughts on that and any number of subjects. I don’t know folks. What can I say? It helps to write these things down and, really, to be writing my way toward my successes. I have a pretty clear grasp of what should happen these next few years. And, one way or another, I will not only survive or succeed, I will surpass my own expectations (which are the only ones that truly matter).
Already today we had a meeting about business structure in regard to budget flow; a reconceptualizing of the consultancy moving forard; and a bit of creative brainstorming on overall design of both the company and the collection, on the product end. And I’ve also made a realistic schedule for getting things in motion on the new book proposal I’m working on and subsequent roll-out info. It’s still so early in the morning and if I can spend the next two hours rejigging some of the book chapter introductions for next year’s horoscopes then you, Dear Reader will be the first to see that. Dare I say this process might actually end up being a bit of fun?
To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree point of the Sabian Symbol may at times be one degree higher than the one listed here. 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 365/6 days per year—so they nearly, but not exactly, correlate.
Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go! Copyright 2020 Wheel Atelier Inc. All Rights Reserved. Get your HAUTE ASTROLOGY 2020 Weekly Horoscope ebooks by Starsky + Cox.