My practilife is going ok. An ongoing issue is transportation. I walk in the day (busses cost money without saving much time) but at night don’t know how to calculate the odds of danger. One friend sent me a taser which allows you to electrocute people if they get too close. Another said a crossbody bag keeps you safe from muggers so I bought one. I’ve never needed a purse before since I had no keys, phone or wallet. Now I mumble keys phone wallet… keys phone wallet….to myself one hundred times a day. You keep these three on you at all times.
I tried to select a crossbody bag that says Professional Crisp. The one that arrived looks more like Back to Preschool. This is a problem because people keep asking if I’m autistic. Pretty sure this is code for retarded. So Not Retarded is the main message I want my clothes to send.
I know it is bad to use the word retarded. And cool- almost trendy at the moment- to be autistic. Just one more reason I don’t want to be seen that way. Not to mention that it *won’t* be cool anymore once the wheel of the gods turn a bit further. I’m trying to prepare for the future by building a competent Can Do persona. You should too.
But back to the purse- not only does its shape seem dimwitted, its color is too noticeable. I thought it was light colored when I bought it. My goal for now is to blend in. There are too many holes in my skill set to completely avoid a retarded feeling. But I can avoid becoming a Famous Retarded Person. I don’t want people pointing me out as they drive by in their cars.
Maybe I shouldn’t care though because the other weak spot in my practivitization is that I don’t know anyone where I live. I have learned though that long distance friendships are very real. Not only did facebook friends send me enough money to make it through the initial crisis, they also patiently explained how everything in the practiworld works & even called 911 for me when I couldn’t figure out how to do it.
I couldn’t breath & thought I was going to lose consciousness. But when the cops and ambulance arrived a few minutes later then I could breath and felt so bad for wasting their time even though they were really kind. They asked me if I wanted to get into the ambulance just in case. But being laid out horizontally & placed in the back of a mini van is actually one of my worst nightmares. I associate it with being retarded.
So anyway, I am not sure how to meat people where I live. Friends have suggested open mics. But can me and musicians be friends? I feel like we’re oil & water. It’s a bro culture. You aren’t supposed to care about things smelling bad and being covered in goo. Worse than a bro culture, though, cause it specifically revolves around young, lazy men with no moral compass. Still, I’m trying to be open minded. I might have bad ideas about musicians that it’s time to release.. I’ll try to meet some just in case we get along. Maybe I’d like doing drugs. My facebook friends are always high.
Or maybe astrology readings would be better. Then I’d be dealing mostly with women. And you really get to know people when you read for them. I like the feeling of becoming no one & focusing on someone else’s problems. People’s lives are so much messier than anyone lets on. Realizing this has made me more socially comfortable.
And if you’re wondering how I’m currently able to survive, it’s mostly through my new identity as Arabian Merchant. Selling on ebay. It’s a decent fit for me because shopping is my one true vice. And I’m finding most things in my bulging vault of possessions have gone up in value since I bought them. I’m able to make a profit while clearing space for future shopping. I’m like a fat person who finally got a tapeworm. Now mama eats what she wants.
One of my side hustles is offering legal advice and the question I get most is “Should I call the cops?”
Once I would have said yes. I like cops because they are protective. However, I’ve come to realize the answer is no.
Cops are not themselves. They are teeth in a giant mouth. The mouth of the legal system. You don’t want to end up in its belly. You don’t want to end up like me.
How I wish I could go back in time just a couple weeks and change my fate by refusing to speak to them.
But I am so used to speaking my mind in worlds where there are no consequences. It’s what I do. I didn’t know that if you flap your jaws in the presence of cops your whole life can change in an instant.
I wanted to talk to them. I was distraught, semi hysterical. I couldn’t stop crying. But I didn’t want anything to happen. I asked them if it was safe to talk to them. They said it was. Nothing would happen. I was so dumb back then. I didn’t know the role of cops is to move food from the mouth into the belly.
Next thing James is in jail. Not what I wanted. I pleaded with the cops, telling them they would be punishing me more than anyone. Without James I literally had zero access to money, phone, transportation etc (100% of his funds are in crypto which I don’t know how to access.) Do you have any friends or family? No. Well, don’t worry, there are plenty of resources to assist you. Don’t worry. There are so many resources out there. Just call this number and they’ll take care of you.
I called the number. They said they maybe I could have two bus passes if I promised to use them for something important and not to go gallivanting around town.
Every step along the way I am told not to worry- there are so many resources available. They are protecting me. I say being homeless doesn’t feel like protection. They say well maybe they can get me a discount on a counseling session. I say I don’t need mental help. They say well maybe we could get you into a pottery class at the helping hands center. Do you like crafts?
I am The Victim. Everywhere I go there are Victim’s Advocates. They pull me into little chambers where there are crayons and coloring books. They give me hugs and stare into my eyes with caring looks. I try to explain that I’m neither retarded nor insane. My concerns are material. I don’t want to be homeless. They tell me my life is worth more than my home. Yeah, but I really don’t want to be sitting out on the sidewalk with no place to go. I have two dogs. Honey, I understand that but we need to keep you safe. There are so many resources.
Oh really. The night the cops arrested James they didn’t want to take me back home for safety reasons. So they tried to find a women’s shelter to put me in. Every shelter within a hundred mile radius was full. Finally they found a shelter where I was allowed to be locked in a little room next to a trash can. I was hyperventilating & screams would come out because I didn’t want James to be arrested. There was a woman on the other side of the glass. She was laughing with her friend because she had asked me if I wanted her to call a paramedic and I didn’t know what one was.
The shelter was basically a female prison. They said I couldn’t enter the main building unless I was showered & put in a new outfit. Hard pass. There was one room where 20 women slept on bunks. Some women high on drugs were banging on the door to the trash room trying to get in.
A magistrate has ruled I can have no contact with James until his trial. Not even through a third party. And no financial support either. For my own protection. Because there are so many resources out there.
I will survive though. Facebook friends sent me money to get me through the first round of utilities being turned off. Selling my possessions on ebay is working better than expected. I found an extra mini part time job. But what if I didn’t have these things? What if I had kids rather than dogs? What if I hadn’t known to open a bank account the week before due to being an astrologer? Without that one piece in place I’d have no water or power. It makes me feel weird that putting me in peril is happening in the name of making me safe.
A lawyer said it’s cause they are terrified of women getting killed by their husbands cause then everyone gets in trouble. The magistrates, the cops, the mayors. Whereas if the women die in other ways, not their problem. After all there were plenty of resources out there.
So anyway, my legal advice is this- the cops are not your girlfriends. Think twice before spilling your guts because your whole life can change in an instant.
This is a song I heard in a dream so those I usually just write down without judgment. It is different because at the time I was obsessively surrounding myself only with the colors white, yellow & gold in the hopes that they would protect me from black swirls. Did they? It is hard to say. The black storms still occurred but I got way more help from fb friends than I could have imagined (gold) and was able to learn new skills quicker than I thought possible (yellow.) So I didn’t control the whole universe, but it’s still something.
All the winds were blowing And their thoughts were filling my mind Everybody watching Looking to the sky for a sign Water started rolling Changing everything that it touched Filled our hearts with knowing All the things that hurt us too much On high on high on high On high on high on high.
Caught up in the weakness Thought it was chance I could take Till I saw him coming Then I knew I made a mistake. But were there people watching? All these thoughts were filling my mind Could there be something starting To bring us in a new wave of time? On high on high on high on high on high on high
Are there people watching? Feel them there each time that you move Reaching out for something But somehow always missing the groove Maybe there was something Something that he couldn’t explain Dipping in your fingers And feeling just a little more pain.
Still the winds are blowing Living in a world of their own Once they get it rolling Then we’ll see the reason to go In me blue was flowing All its voices filling my mind Left me with the knowing That there was something better to find On high on high on high On high on high on high.
In case you would like to donate a drop of money for music. I hope that in the future, when people think of me they will also think of money. * * *
When I found myself suddenly alone with no income, selling my possessions became the obvious choice, especially since that would make things easier if I ended up on the streets. Luckily one of my obsessions is glass. I love its clear gelatinous nature & it happens to sell rather well on ebay which is a ray of hope. I assume my ebay identity is julienaklei…. not that I am necessarily encouraging anyone to go to my ebay store- it is just me selling everything I own, not my crowning achievement per se.
Above all I feel disoriented and confused. Of course, this is my normal state. I wish there was some magical way of knowing truth. Then I could have clarity. But life is a collage of feelings, words, half-eaten evidence and none of it ever adds up. And so I become obsessed. Because there is no closure. What is real? What isn’t? How do I make good choices from a position of darkness?
My only comfort is this blog but even then it’s walking on ice cause one wrong step and I fall into bad wife zone. What is okay to express and what isn’t? I don’t know. From what I gather you aren’t supposed to speak of your husband at all unless you’re singing his praises. But then how can you talk about yourself? It’s like a person in a concentration camp writing about their life while trying to leave out the concentration camp part. Especially for females, I imagine, romantic partners take up so much space in our life that if we can’t talk about them what the fuck are we supposed to talk about?
But I’ve learned something else. Secret worlds are prone to toxicity. They can’t help it. They are dark, stagnant pools of water. Unconditional love, loyalty and dependence give power to your partner. Power corrupts. And in a finite set one element corrodes the others, like that game rock, scissors, paper. And so a cycle begins. There are no outside elements to mitigate. What happens behind closed doors is nobody’s business.
Christians say marriage is a rope of three strings- man, woman, god. I don’t think this is the right model since God will certainly be defined by the partner with the most power. I believe the three strings are man woman & society.
But human society is not what we think. There is this tendency to de-mystify it because it seems so mundane to us. When in reality it is the color gold & an expression of virtues & idealism that come from a higher realm but demand embodiment THROUGH us. In this way, it is distinct from white spirituality in which higher powers act on our behalf. From what I can tell, gold is the one and only antidote to the toxicity of excessive blackness.
Being cut off from gold is the problem my husband is facing (Am I allowed to say this or crossing a wife-line?). These last 5 years he has been bombarded with Pluto transits which immerse a person’s mind in blackness. Power issues, paranoia. And he is Plutonic to begin with. He wears black. He isolates. He sleeps during the day and wakes when the sun sets. He spends all his time in the darkest room of our house, the one that gets no sunlight. He doesn’t laugh. He brews & stews in his own juices around the clock. And I like dark guys more than sunny ones. But the darkness has gone way too far even by Scorpio standards and begun to take on a life of its own. What I call a backwards black 8 spiral. If you want to see a tv series about this dynamic watch the show ‘The Affair.’ It’s really good. Undealt with childhood issues basically cause a happily married man to unravel until he ends up accidentally whacking off to his daughter & being imprisoned for murder.
James grew up a Jehovah’s Witness and was expected to embody moral perfection or being ‘beyond reproach.’ He wasn’t expected to do anything per se- in fact achievement was discouraged since it’s ‘of this world’- but not making mistakes was critical. A wrong thought, a mispelling, a crumb in your mustache…. all these little errors could potentially drive others away from the Good News the witnesses were trying to spread. This maybe created a dynamic where if he feels he can’t be absolute perfection, he just crawls into a hole and waits for Paradise to arrive. But in the hole the juices pile up, darkening mind & feelings. Men are solar powered.
But obviously it isn’t my choice how connected or disconnected James wishes to be from humanity. I just gotta reach for the gold myself. The last two weeks were desperately focused on learning to make money, pay bills, ride busses and use telephones. But ultimately my survival will depend equally on integrating into the golden arms of society.