Aries 8° (March 29)
Finally I feel as if I can get some value momentum moving. I know I have to be unabashed in the process. Unapologetic. I know one of the themes has been the re-reading of old works. I have to go back and remind myself how many days it will take I did the math. Something like I’ve written four years so thats something like 1500 Blague entries (oh good lord) so it would take me 150 days to read and reorganize ten Blagues a day so that’s five months which isn’t terrible but it isn’t exactly great either. Still it needs to be done. And I’m just the man to do it. I’m the only one in fact. I hated sharing a room with my sister when I was small in Jersey City. I did it until I was eight years old. I guess we were poor. I had no idea at the time. My parents always made me feel we had money until they were older when they made it just as clear they had none. I love the fact that a “whistleblower” can be called Newbold. It turns out that the youngest of the Pritchett children has globs of talent. Veronica Webb randomly started following me on Instagram.
So trailing clouds of guilt and regret I venture forth to Athens to see my gangstah friend Viv. I will drive as far as I can before realizing I probably shouldn’t be driving at all and then my lady wife will take over. I am anxious because Viv has two cats and I am deathly allergic but apparently there is a room where the cats don’t go where I can sleep. The irony is that I love cats and would own a hundred of them if I could. Viv will show me video of an English cat lady and I realize I’ve seen the video before. We will also watch Pen15 which I didn’t realize meant penis until it was explained to me. We had a little snack and then V. took a shower and we took a walk around the town. I really do kind of like it. The cats Pinky and Leather are totally cute. I realize that my room is connected to Viv’s roomate’s room by a door that is shut, it seems, by virtue of a towel being caught in the jam. Caught in the Jam. That sounds like a good title for something. We had a lovely dinner with Pete the other night, I don’t know if I said that. I am happy they are moving to Wellfleet and I psychically (or nearly) guessed which house. I want to be in love today.
It’s all I can think about and yes I can’t be so codependent. And I have to think about death which will indeed part us all. It is awful to think how perfect everything has been so far and to know it will end. What is the purpose of this life if it all ends in sadness. I’ve become terrified of things. Of people dying mainly. It’s just such a mental trap. I really should find a therapist. I will do that today. Only I won’t. I don’t know what today will bring. I only know I have to bring it, whatever it is. The lack of a better word is running out. I remember meeting that actor, what’s his name, Shawn Hatosy, at the Gansevoort in, what, 2006. It is now 2019. Although all day long I thought it was 2020. I was looking for a document I was keeping on artists for casting purposes and I kept searching Artists 2020 and was fretting that I might have lost the file but actually I was just in the wrong year.
We had lovely salmon that Viv made and a baked potato which I haven’t had in one hundred years, plus green beans and salad which nobody seemed to eat. This made me self conscious as I made the dressing. I reached out to Lea Delaria when she first bought the new The Club in Provincetown but didn’t hear back. Now I realize (of course) that all our friends (and one enemy) will be performing there. I don’t like (him). And though I can’t control it I wish people would wise up to this disaster boy. He feeds people heroin and yet people don’t think he’s a problem. So codpendent. He has this creative partner—they perform together—who is the most look down your nose type of person. She judges everyone (look who’s talking) and yet she will put up with this drug pusher person because of the coat tails she is riding late breakingly. These down and out pseudo bohemians make me sick, cuz you know they would be the first people to have gold toilets. Case in point the Hitler in Chief. Oh well, it doesn’t help me to know the stuff I know I have to somehow transcend it all. New favorite drag name: Sinobial Fluide.
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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