Hi. I have been blocked from facebook again. For inciting violence. A person asked what I would do if a man hit me & I said I would try to kick him in the balls then duck and scream. Or something like that.
So they suspended me for one month followed by a month of shadow banning. They said their decision can’t be contested because Covid- 19. Of course. I am going to have to find a way to break free of this abusive platform.
They SAY I can disagree. But when I try they say I can’t. Cause Covid. Also, fwiw, I would never kick a man in the nuts in real life. It would be dangerous.
This is extra annoying because I have an election in one month and was using my account to connect with hundreds of voters. How can this be legal now that social media is the new platform through which humans speak?
In other news… door knocking is turning out to be the funnest thing ever. The majority of people open their doors and each one is cuter than the last. To say hi and hand each cutie a magnet- it is a great feeling. Like pollinating flowers. Sometimes you forget how refreshing the airy side of life can be.
And since I’ve realized 95% of voters don’t care about my positions, I simplified the door hanger accordingly. I don’t want to forcibly insert my opinions where they aren’t wanted. Instead, they are tucked away on a webpage where people can access them if they wish. If you visit this page and have any questions or unfulfilled needs, let me know.
I chose a picture where I am a fading dot because I can’t yet bear to be the person knocking on doors to hand people a giant photo of my own face. It’s too much. I need things to feel right or I can’t do them.
In high school, for example, I couldn’t understand chemistry. It was a bunch of squiggles. The chemical smells, rough textures, dry air, fluorescent lighting, cinder block walls, impersonal communication style. No. But as an adult learning chemistry was fun because I could control the aesthetics. I had my pink calculator, a notebook with puppies in a flower basket, a smoothly laminated periodic table (I hate touching all dry and scratchy things besides whiskers), and a lemon candle- representing crisp intelligence. Ahhhh… paradise. Suddenly I could easily compute things that had been nonsensical before.
I am approaching politics the same way. It is far outside my wheelhouse but James really wanted me to and I do what he says cause I be dumb like that. But by applying my own aesthetics the task becomes enjoyable. I have my flower magnets, my floral bag, the cuteness of the people, the beauty of the sky and the newness of the neighborhoods. I’m also inspired by the fact that (astrologically) I am scheduled for a fall from grace in around 2.5 years and politics could be a great way to accomplish this. Maybe I’ll pull a mini Weiner and go down with a perverted sex scandal. Then retreat, tail between my legs, to write songs in a little pink house by the ocean.
And of course I feel inspired by the chance to take a stand for the things I care about. But what are those things? The 50,000 questionnaires I have received from various interest groups have made me realize that politics does not really boil down to specific positions or even principles.
It is more like making a soup. If it’s burning, you turn down the heat. When it gets too thick you add water. It is hard to take an absolute stand on whether you or for or against adding more black pepper because it is so context specific. The goal is to have a society which maximizes personal freedom, while also having the law, order, and security on which functional freedom depends.
While I agree with the principles behind legalizing marijuana for example, I also can’t help but notice that it is a drug famous for increasing many of the qualities already threatening to topple our society. Passivity. Lack of drive. Fruity thinking. Could we legalize cocaine instead and save the pot discussion for 2025? Maybe people will have regained some vigor by then and it will be more clear how marijuana fits into the scheme of things.
When it comes down to it, I’m not a woman of principles. I’m a Black 8.
“I’ll serve you in the house like I serve my husband in the house.”
Recently my mind has been so overloaded it is hard to function. It feels like all I have to do is briefly consider something, and I start to get bombarded with information and insights concerning the object of focus. So I have been putting a bit of my focus on astrology, just as a way of channeling this energy.
And when I connect my mind to one of the planets, I don’t just get abstract insights but also ones regarding my own life. Like, a few days ago I realized my financial problems are rooted in the fact that I attempt to use money to impress others in order to ensure my place in the community and thus my personal safety.
I remember the moment in high school when decided I would use money this way. I realized people saw me as being weird and that this could be a problem on multiple fronts. But I also noticed that wearing polished, conservative and stuffy clothes could override the messages my personality put out- or at least cast them in a more flattering light. So, I made a little vow to myself I would always wear clothes that were as normal and pompous as possible. This would be my way of staying safe in the world. I later extended this vow to include all other possessions. It certainly seemed to me that- as an adult- people look to your home, your car, your style of decorating etc, to determine the sort of person you are and how much respect and consideration they should give you.
One thing about being “weird” is that people are likely to reach the conclusion that you are either stupid/insane or some kind of a genius. I have been cast at both ends of this spectrum and- until recently- it seemed to me that an association with money and status would make people more likely to reach for the genius category.
When I was in high school though, seeming intelligent was the least of my concerns. I was branded intelligent at a young age and as long as I went to the same k-12 school with the same group of people, there was little I could do to change that (slightly disagreeable) perception.
At that point, I mostly wanted to fit in. A few years later, my main concern became mateability. It felt like- after looks- a normal personality was the most valuable quality a female could possess. And clothes were the easiest way to accomplish this, since if I focused on acting super normal, it almost seemed to have the opposite effect. Whereas if you wore normal clothes and tried not to say anything, what could go wrong? This is probably why my first boyfriend dumped me for not having a personality.
Eventually, though, I realized men will still mate with you if you seem odd. Some might even like it. Nonetheless, I continued to feel that seeming as normal (which to me meant wealthy, stuffy, snobby, preppy, conservative) as possible was critical to survival. I was terrified of James dying and being left destitute on my own to roam the streets. (He is my only friend and only family member.) It seemed that a poised and dignified person (ie a nicely dressed person surrounded by stuffy and valuable possessions) would be more likely to garner social support than someone drooling on themselves in an oversized tshirt and no pants. Winning the sympathy of strangers in case of an emergency became my new motivation for wanting to be normal.
A few days ago- after getting in touch with a planet-I had the opportunity to go to Walmart. Since I don’t drive, any time I have the opportunity to visit a store, it feels like a holiday. While admiring all the beautiful things on display, it hit me like a lightening bolt that I struggle financially because I am always buying the wrong things. My attempts to use money to impress others were causing the planets to block me from having any.
I started filling up a cart with everything pastel pink and lavender. It felt like breathing oxygen. Then I left the cart in the middle of the store since I couldn’t pay for it, but did take home a few gems, such as pink notebooks covered in baby kittens- the very sorts of things I try to avoid owning since I feel they will project “I have psychological problems and arrested development” out to the rest of the world.
Now, just to be clear- sticking to the rigid and pompous is what I felt I *should* do- not always what I did in practice. Half of my house and most of my wardrobe is light pink, and if it weren’t this way I couldn’t function at all. But I was always trying to push myself in the other direction- to get by with as little pink as possible. The things I imagined I would spend money on if I got rich were always those that would make me seem wealthy & calcified to others, so that I could finally feel safe. Because a wealthy person- a woman of dignity and grace- will never be left to die on the streets.
But I have come to believe that-although the planets each have their own energy and character- they are working together as a team to accomplish the same goal. The goal being that each person fulfill their own destiny and role in the scheme of life. And my desire to use money as a shield which could protect me from criticism and draw love and support is counter to my personal purpose. If I do manage to ever draw support from the outside world, it will have to be through expressing myself, not hiding behind a mountain of Rolexes.
In essence the planets are aligners. They live above our heads in the spiritual realms to enforce God’s plan and purpose. They can block or challenge us to bring us into alignment with divine plan. But the plan for each person is so unique. Certainly, there are some people who will ONLY achieve their purpose once they learn to hide behind a mountain of Rolexes and project a false image of wealth to impress people. I do not think expressing one’s inner self to the outer world should be the goal of all people.
Now only time will tell if my new understanding of money is superior to my old one!
I have more to say, but it is 4:25 am and getting to where I can hardly keep my eyes open. I can only hope I am still making sense. I will write more later. Thanks for listening!
Me, examining the study of the Governor’s Mansion. This is more or less a lightweight version of the vibe I felt I needed to be projecting.
A song about a nun. I used to consider myself a nun, of sorts, though not in the spiritual or celibate sense. More in the sense of someone who practices restriction and self-torture (read more about it here.)
But now I am not a nun of any sort. I am a housekeeper. I make corn bread and other corn foods day and night. Corn is my life. It is the only world I know.
And in that way, I still relate to the feelings of the song. Limitation, confinement, repetition, Saturn.
“Yet in that dark street shineth the Everlasting Light.”
Because it is when life has become so still, so boring, so dull that you’re certain you’re going to throw up, that you begin to feel the Light that Lives behind Things shining through.
Slippers, wearing one of James’s shirts. I would like to dress her up in my clothes, but her torso is too large.
And for those who like lyrics…
I loved a man named Joe,
I loved a man named Joe,
but he became a confederate soldier & went to war.
la la la la la la
I became a nun; I became a nun
at the pink cross nunnery, the pink cross nunnery.
la la la la la la
Now every day I watch the sun & count my rosary.
Now every day I watch the sun & count my rosary.
la la la la la la la la la.
I used to say hail mary’s
for three years I said hail mary’s,
but then I stopped,
and now I count from one ten.
These days I count from one to ten.
I have me a husband now and Jesus is his name.
Don’t know what I lost with Joe; I just know what I’ve gained.
Don’t know what I lost with Joe; I just know what I’ve gained.
And Jesus is his name, y’all. Jesus is his name
I shouldn’t really have a photo of James on a post about trying to become a #1, but here it is. A photo from seven years ago when we lived in an all pink apartment. At the time, it was the only color I could tolerate. Please notice how much James eats. Do you think that is for show? No. He has two burgers, a chicken sandwich, chicken nuggets and two types of fries. He has the ability to eat everything or nothing at all, for days on end. At the time of this photo, I would only eat desserts. I couldn’t stand the smell of savory food and James would have to eat REALLY FAST (like 30 seconds or less) to keep me from freaking out. This pink apartment was also the place where I worked out a number of psychological issues which finally enabled me to tolerate all of colors, flavors, and smells. 🙂
Goodbye astrology readings. Goodbye ESP Journal. There must be no more staring into the mist. No more checking James’s phone for Snapchat every time he takes a shower.* No more obsessing over other people in general.
My goal now is to become an individual. To not just be a perceiver but also something that can be perceived. A specific, down-to-earth human with a personality, face and history attached.
If I had to describe my self as a number, I would be a 2 for sure. It is so easy for me to get lost in obsessing over other people, analyzing them, drawing their rectangle ghosts in my journal, absorbing their feelings and problems. Whereas the thought of being an individual, a separate stand alone entity, is inconceivable. And that is what must change. I have to find a way to become a number 1.
Two things that have always freaked me out are mirrors and photographs. My own image unnerves me, but also anything that reminds me of my own existence- from a certificate with my name on it to a picture I painted. The sound of my own music sends me into a panic. I don’t know why. I just find it easier to live as a shapeless octopus at the bottom of the ocean, watching and absorbing the colors around me, blissfully unaware of my own existence.
Everywhere I go, I seem to learn a lot about the people around me while remaining relatively unknown myself. It is easy for me to be fascinated by the tiniest details of someone’s life. It is less easy for me to share details about myself. My own self and life seem transparent and lacking a definite form…
And now I can no longer think because my husband is falling asleep. The second he begins to fall asleep thick creamy brainwaves fog up my mind, sometimes containing horrible emotions as well. It causes a headache and makes clarity impossible. Does anyone else have this problem? It is especially troublesome since he enjoys taking naps. Sometimes it can take hours for the goo to leave my head. I guess it would not be easy being married to me.
But still (I am now on the opposite floor & side of the house, trying to escape the white glaze) I am hopeful that by becoming more of an individual, these cracks will begin to seal up, and I will be less impacted by the emanations of others.
There is no point trying. I am not going to be able to outrun these brainwaves, so I must bring my musings to a close before my brain fogs over completely. The basic point is I must learn to become an individual, a number one. Perhaps I should start taking selfies. So far, I have only taken one, as a dare to myself, whoever that is.
My first selfie… doesn’t it seem so wrong though? Maybe I should sit up while taking it, to give it a more professional feeling.
Me (on the right) trying to get as far away from the phone as possible and smiling in horror that James has chosen to ruin a perfectly good moment by taking a photograph. We were waiting out a rainstorm in an alcove of the capital building. The strange look on James’s face is due to him saying very out of character things in an effort to make me smile, which is so hard to do with a camera around. He is probably saying how cute he thinks some man is and how he would like to cover his body in scented creams.
*No Snapchat or related items were found. But as a Scorpio, I enjoyed looking.
When I wrote this song, I was scared all the time. A feeling of absolute terror and doom was a constant in my life. If I was taking a shower, I would feel like a psycho was just about to pull back the shower curtain. If I was walking outside, I would feel like a car was just about to screech to a halt and force me inside at gunpoint.
Because of that, I suppose, I tried to surround myself by things that were as non-threatening as possible. Everything in my apartment had to be pale pink (or white when that wasn’t possible). Pictures of unicorns had to fill every wall (preferably baby unicorns being protected by their mothers). I only read children’s books and rarely ate anything other than dessert. I would spazz out and begin to cry if James mentioned anything remotely dangerous or violent from the news or world events.
Smells would especially freak me out. I couldn’t tolerate the smell of any savory food. And perhaps due to living in such a smell bubble, my sense of smell started to get more and more sensitive. Soon, I could tell what James was thinking about through subtle “smell puffs” he would release. Cupcake or baked good puffs meant he wanted to spend time with me, and the faintest puff of meat and tomatoes meant he was thinking about work, with garlic and onions being added if he was angry at his boss.
Back in the day, there was one Greek philosopher who believed everything is made of fire, one who believed everything is made of air, one who believed everything is made of water, and one who believed everything is made of earth. The one who believed everything is made of fire also believed that change and impermanence are the true nature of life (a common belief today as well). The one who believed everything is made of earth believed that nothing ever changes and that permanence is the true nature of life.
Perhaps there is one layer of life which is constantly in flux, and perhaps this layer tends to grab our attention because of its unpredictable, dramatic, and anxiety-producing nature. But beneath that, isn’t there also something so constant and steady, so soft and reassuring, that it is easy for us to forget it is even there?
This song is about that realm of comfort that lies beneath the more teetering aspects of our lives- the element of Earth!!
One day- I don’t remember why- I was feeling the need to get in touch with the Earth. So I sat down to begin wondering about her and right away this song started playing in my mind.
