Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Writings

Adult Halloween is for Weenies

I cannot get behind Halloween as a holiday for adults. Barf! How weenie!

Maybe it is due to psychological problems on my part, but I have no urge to get dressed up as a pumpkin or go trick-or-treating.

If we must have adult holidays (especially during the Scorpio season) couldn’t we at least choose something with a little teeth?

Here are a few ideas for adult Halloween traditions that would be far superior to a regressive fantasy dress-up day…

1. A day when men challenge their enemies to a duel. Not a fight to the death, just a good old-fashioned fist fight where the loser gets beaten to a pulp.

2. A day when everyone publishes their darkest secrets anonymously in the newspaper.

3. A day when people send love letters (anonymous or not) to anyone they currently or have ever had feelings for.

4. A day when people spend the night in forests, cemeteries, or -for extra credit- buried alive beneath the earth. (With a straw to enable breathing, of course. )

5. A day of truth & dare, where you ask people personal questions and if they don’t want to answer you select a reasonable dare for them to perform.

6. A day where everyone spends the daylight hours huddled in the basement in total silence.

7. A day when men compete to eat the most disgusting things imaginable.

8. A day when everyone spends 1% of their yearly income on gifts for a surprise recipient outside their family.

10. A day when men walk naked door to door at sunset, confessing their secrets & receiving a hard slap from women in return. (This is obviously the best idea of all.)

11. A day when men gather to take nude photo shoots with their male family members which are then published in the paper.

The possibilities are endless of course, but the point is this- We are adults! We no longer have to get our thrills by retreating to the pathetic amusements of youth!

Why not instead have holidays which challenge us and push us to step beyond the normal patterns of life? The time for pretending to be something has passed. Now is the time for actually becoming it.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Writings Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

The Illuminati are Real

Normally, my thinking does not extend far beyond my domestic world. But recently, I have been connecting with the color white and it has made me think about new things.

For example, I have concluded that the Illuminati certainly exist.

Human societies have always formed pyramids. This is a natural result of the fact that power gives one the ability to gain power more power. So power consolidates over time, until it is weakened by a fragile base and toppled by a competing power source. Likewise, throughout history, those at the top have always developed a God complex.

Currently, though, since we resent the very idea of kings and hierarchies, it makes sense for the top of the pyramid to stay hidden behind a cloud.  Instead of being ruled by Golden Kings whom we bow down to worship, we our ruled by Dark Kings who operate behind the scenes. A wonderful place for Kings to live, if they value their heads.

Kings have always risked everything to expand their kingdoms. They have always dreamt of conquering the world. So it makes sense that our hidden Kings- the Illuminati- would dream of a one world government if they felt it within their reach. Which now more than ever- due to an increasingly connected world- it probably is.

We also have a media which works its tentacles into all realms of our life. I imagine this is the primary method the Illuminati use to maintain their power. It allows them to shape our view of reality, to provide us with our goals in life. It allows us to be herded without putting up a fight.

If you consider the net impact of movies, music, news etc and all the messages they contain, it is insane. And we don’t only hear these ideas FROM the media- we hear them coming from the mouths of everyone we know- spoken as their very own thoughts. And supposedly all this media power is ultimately concentrated in a very few hands.

As for who and what these Illuminati would be, I have no idea. I am only using the term “Illuminati” because it is a popular, romantic term, which also conveys the idea of a God complex, something common to all conquerers.

Ultimately, I think it is naive to believe that we live in a world where power has not managed to congeal and be concentrated within a small number of hands, as power always has. Or perhaps there are multiple Illuminati groups, who compete with one other. Unfortunately, I know nothing about the top of the pyramid. But I believe it is reasonable to assume it exists, as it always has.

So what relevance does this line of thought have to our everyday lives?

On the one hand, none. Humans have always lived beneath Kings and always will. Perhaps this is how we survive as a species. It is nothing to feel oppressed by.

On the other hand- if the media is the primary weapon of our rulers-I think there is great value in unraveling these messages which we have been devouring since birth. Not the explicit ones, but the implicit sense of what life is all about which slides through the cracks.

Because I believe we all have a spiritual purpose, but that it might not be visible to us if we are viewing life through the wrong framework. By questioning the framework, the full scope of life’s possibilities become visible again. We can make sense of life in a way that matches our spirit.

Down with the Illuminati!
Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Writings

Cotton soft balls.

I really do love the “The Public” which in astrology is represented by the moon. The Public is a romantic, silvery ooze of limitless possibility. Best of all- from this undifferentiated mass- beings of gold can sometimes appear.

I was really looking forward to writing a blog post today. I could see clearly in every direction. It was going to be a tell-all.

But- due to adding a hundred new facebook friends and writing a flurry of posts- I ended up with so many balls to my head that I could hardly think. Nor could I draw these balls because there were just too many of them. All I could do was to squint my eyes against the pressure and attempt to clean the house while waiting for it to pass. But sometimes balls make me so dizzy it is hard to do physical things. I end up just throwing a towel over my head and waiting for it to pass.

The thing is, I love interacting with people so much. If only there was a way to interact without head balls. It is especially challenging to interact with new people. Sometimes they have spiritual problems to which I’m not yet immune. Spiritual problems are those which warp your perspective on life and make you feel bad about it. Or bad about yourself. The more a person has spiritual problems the more angry they tend to be. They frequently try to push onto others the ideas that are causing them pain. So their balls tend to cause greater disturbance.

Some balls can be refreshing though. They contain wavelengths that can heal your problems without a word being said. They can counteract the noxious influence of bad balls. Once you know someone, and are familiar with their balls, whether they are good or bad doesn’t matter so much. You can get hit with their bad feelings out of the blue, but then easily dismiss them because you know what they are.

Why do these balls hit me on the top of my head though? When my husband interacts with people, I have noticed their energy tends to get lodged in his intestinal area, causing him stomach pain.

Probably because I walk around with a head like an empty bucket, waiting for someone else to tell me what life is about and make sense of it all for me. I know this is wrong, but it is a hard habit to break. Once upon a time- 7 years ago to be exact- I thought everyone was honest and also a sage. I let their ideas go straight to the center of my brain.

Now I realize people are liars & dumb, too. Well, maybe not liars exactly, but plants reaching for the sun. We say whatever it takes to get that sweet sunshine on our face. And maybe not dumb exactly- I still think it takes an insane amount of intelligence to navigate daily life- but let’s get real- we are sheeple. We share the beliefs of those around us so we can belong to a fuzzy wuzzy herd. It feels so good to feel their soft cotton balls rubbing against our cloud of wool.

And really that is the same reason why I open my head like a vessel to receive the thoughts of others. At first it feels so good when they put their thoughts inside. It makes me feel connected, but I’m sure it is the wrong way of going about things.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Writings

Frayed Nerves

I feel like something is off with my nerves. While walking down the sidewalk (in daylight), a jogger passed by saying “Excuse me” and I let a blood curdling scream rip into his ears. I didn’t mean to. He didn’t like it. Then a bicyclist rode by on the opposite side of the street, and I accidentally screamed at him as well.

Next, while standing alone with a candle in my hand, I suddenly smashed the candle as hard as I could against the ground. Glass flew everywhere & it broke a window too. (Oopsy!) I don’t know why I did it. My hand just moved faster than my brain could think. Now my recording room is filled with glass and James won’t let me in there since he is convinced I can’t clean it up without getting cut.

After that, I accidentally topped James’s pasta with a thick layer of salt rather than Parmesan cheese. And to make things more bizarre, I discovered I was wearing two pairs of shorts at the same time, one on top of the other. Somehow I hadn’t noticed.

Something is off. But what to do? I secretly tried cleaning the recording room and now my feet feel as though they are filled with glass though that is probably imagination. I have no paper left or else I would draw a picture of a man masturbating in a glass chamber, or maybe a picture of someone bleeding through the hands.

Many things have me unnerved at the moment. One is an incident from the other night. I was taking Slippers out & a car approached, slowing down as it came near me then parking. It gave me the creeps.

James came outside because he had gotten a bad feeling. He walked up to the car but they didn’t see him because they were looking towards me, with one man talking on the phone. He was telling someone that I had my dog with me. Once they saw James they zoomed off.

James thinks they were just random men up to no good and not looking for me specifically. But so many people have come looking for me in the past that I am a little paranoid. Just thinking about it makes my kidneys bubble.

I might be slightly disturbed by my little #metoo moment as well. The fact that none of the very liberal organizations, such as his record label, gave even a cursory response to my story (posted in reply to their tweets about his deep humanity) makes me realize the whole #metoo thing was completely fake. No one cares about sexual assault anymore than they ever have.

Not that I expect them to. Why should they care? This is their golden moment to sell records and selling records is their job- not social justice. But why do people have to fake care? I don’t think it is right to use social issues for personal elevation & branding, especially if you aren’t willing to put out when they land in your own backyard. It would be less confusing if people could just be honest about their true motivations. But why should they be? Wars were never won through transparency.

And what are values really, but the flags we wave to signal tribal affiliation? That is another thing that has been weighing on me- realizing the central role tribes play in human life while also realizing that I have no tribe and probably never will.

Tribes are everything though. Consider music. A musician’s value is judged by how much access they have to the tribes who run the music business. A performer at the Grammy’s is ‘talented’, even if you don’t personally like them. They have a recognized social value. They can trade on this value for resources & protection.

What makes the musical tribes- such as record labels- a little sinister is their efforts to convince people that they are a distillation of America’s best talent, and anything outside their glossy grip is not worth listening to. It is lower tier music that couldn’t make the cut. When in reality these record companies are just families- tribes- with the resources to buy lots of makeup for their members.

Once upon a time, when I thought getting a record contract was important, I submitted blank cds to them, because I had a suspicion the submission process was a sham (I already had experience with this sort of thing from my time in the art world.)

And of course, they all sent me back polite rejection letters, telling me that my music was not what they were looking for. So why lie? Because they need to pretend to be meritocracies in order to monopolize people’s musical imaginations. They need to pretend they have already searched out the “good” music so people won’t feel the need to search for themselves. This lie hurts music.

So, anyway, I guess feelings of mounting threats along with a growing awareness of my precarious position in society has me feeling on edge. Or maybe it is something else entirely. The problem is, when you are blogging with your actual name you are doomed to share only the most superficial aspects of your life. I wish I had thought of that from the beginning. I would have given myself the name Lacey Pendleton and she would do a complete Tell All. That would be paradise. But instead I am forever stuck in the gray zone, balancing an urge to express with a need to survive.

Oppossums have been showing up everywhere. Does that mean anything? This one is in the back yard. It is pregnant & you can see the curly little baby tails hanging beneath her stomach.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Nashville Uncategorized Writings

David Berman of the Silver Jews- Grabbing them by the Pussy


Although I wasn’t familiar with his music, I read about David Berman in a UVA alumni magazine & a friend of mine told me that he was famous & living in Nashville, so I thought that was cool and invited him to play a show with me.

He showed up with a little posse and a smoke machine, since- rather than singing- he wanted to recite poetry with smoke blowing behind him. I remember feeling sorry for him, standing on the stage with smoke blowing behind him, as though the need of a smoke machine made him pathetic somehow.

It is usually a bad sign when I feel sorry for someone. Clinton, Weiner, Epstein, Weinstein- most sexual predators trigger pangs of pity in me and I don’t even know why. Crossed wires, probably.

And then of course, feeling pity for a man makes me feel guilty, since I imagine men don’t want to be seen as pitiful, which causes me to twist my mind into a state of deep admiration, just in case they can sense my thoughts. I always feel responsible for boosting men’s self-esteem as though they are little boys and I am their nanny. If they look stupid, I feel pain.

Anyway, after the show he walked up to me where I was sitting on a stool and stuck his hand up my skirt real fast and grabbed me on the flesh at which point animal consciousness took over and I started kicking him. There were at least six people watching, but maybe more.

I don’t remember what happened after that except that one of his posse was trying to calm me down and make sure I didn’t call the cops since, as he said, Berman had a beautiful wife at home and this would break her heart etc etc. Berman too was a troubled man with a heart of gold and they would make sure to straighten him out. He also said what Berman did was really really bad which was useful information for me since on my own I might not have figured it out. After all, my husband was one of the people watching and I don’t recall him saying anything about the incident or being particularly concerned.

(Which, in retrospect, makes sense considering that he got me to marry him by grabbing my crotch as we were zooming down the highway on the way to what I thought was a spiritual retreat. Then he said I needed to marry him because sexual contact outside of marriage was wrong.)

All in all, the Berman incident didn’t loom large in my mind. If it hadn’t been for the posse member talking me into not calling the cops (which I wouldn’t have done anyway, considering that I had a supernatural fear of police plus no concept that forcing hands into privates was a crime) I might not even remember it. It just seemed to blend into the general spirit of the time. I even sent Berman a Christmas card afterwards. How embarrassing.

But for some reason, a few days ago, I was telling my current husband about it, and he wanted to beat Berman up, so I googled him and found that he had hanged himself a couple weeks prior. I wasn’t sure how to feel about it all. My husband said he wouldn’t be surprised if someone had offed him.

And then I was reading the articles about his poetry & music which all seemed to agree that above all, David Berman was a symbol of goodness and decency. Maybe he was, who knows? Goodness & decency have always creeped me out.

*

P.S. Though I always considered this incident to be quite minor, with no impact, in some respect it (along with other incidents) maybe did have the stereotypical impact on me.

I assumed I was basically asking for these things, considering I was wearing a skirt and also a lace camisole on top of my polo shirt. So I reconsidered my clothing choices.

I assumed I was pretty much asking for it by singing songs about mating with rabbits and making love to plants and fathers. So I tried to tone down the sexual content of my songs which (as a Scorpio) just meant writing less in general.

I assumed I was pretty much asking for it by hanging out in slimy bars at night. So, it *possibly* played a role in my decision to stop performing.

I assumed I was pretty much asking for it by interacting with males so much in general, although that couldn’t be helped since they made up the bulk of the music world. For a long time, I tried to avoid interacting with males at all to avoid giving the impression that I was a pervert.

But I don’t know. I am just thinking about this now for the first time. For some reason I never really thought about it until I found out he was dead.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Red, Soldiers, & Fire Uncategorized Writings

Sexual Fantasies- Messages from Another World

Sexual desires & fantasies share the symbolic language of dreams. They are chock full of information, but not usually to be taken literally. I divide them into two main categories:

1. Generative Fantasies. Generative Fantasies lead you *towards* something that is supposed in your life. The most obvious example is feeling lust towards the person you are meant to marry.

Other sorts of Generative Fantasies:

  • Decoys. A Decoy is an object of desire designed to lead you into another world. Perhaps you lust after a person who lives in another country and this compels you to travel there. Perhaps they are part of a club or social circle you are meant to join and they draw you towards it like a magnet. Maybe they live in a fantasy world that you are also meant to inhabit. In any case, once the decoy successfully draws you into this new world, your attraction to them should cease.
  • Mirrors: A Mirror reflects a piece of yourself or your destiny that you need to pick up. Perhaps they are rich and pompous and you are meant to become that way. Perhaps they are a professional clown and you are meant to be one too. Once a person internalizes the relevant aspects of the Mirror, the magnetic pull of the individual should cease.

2. Degenerative Fantasies: Degenerative Fantasies are based on wounds from the distant or recent past.  They have a compulsive quality and can be destructive to pursue, since they lead straight into the darkness one is trying to escape. In general, they are designed to release negative feelings like shame, anger, fear, sadness, humiliation, weakness, dirtiness etc. Degenerative Fantasies can be triggered by current events that peel the skin from old wounds.

The key to navigating these fantasies is recognizing that they do not reflect a desire, but rather an anti-desire. They are a desperate urge to release an inner demon. If examined carefully, a person will find that the stimulating aspect of these fantasies is an exact replica of the feeling or trauma they are trying to release- though possibly in a symbolic form. Once a person gets to the bottom of this message, the desires should release.

*

And then of course, there is regular sexuality based on reality and not fantasy, but I would feel like a pervert discussing that.

All I really want to convey is that sexual desires & fantasies are no product of biology, but rather messages from the spirit world (in the case of generative fantasies) or (in the case of degenerative fantasies) messages from the subconscious.



 

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Writings

Fog, Obsessions & Magic

Every time I write a song I go through a predictable process.

First, there are days of anxiety where I wait for the right moment to ask James for help with recording & uploading. Due to his odd hours & catastrophic stress levels, days or weeks may pass before I get up the nerve to ask him.  He likes to help me, of course, but I still feel guilty asking for his time when he is always run ragged & juggling grenades.

(The past 2 years he has mostly been in the cryptocurrency field. If you like trading cryptocurrencies, visit his site: www.whalewarz.com)

Eventually, I get the song posted. Then I enter a fog. Who am I? What am I doing with my life? Within a day or two, the fog leads to a new obsession that I am sure will be the answer to everything. The obsession lasts for a few days or maybe weeks. Then I enter another fog. What the hell have I been doing? Sometimes I can hardly remember. Why did I paint everything green? What was I hoping to accomplish?

At this point, I return to being my regular self, tail between my legs. The self who doesn’t need to control the universe, but just wants to collect pink things & scented soaps. Maybe write an occasional song.

I am going through that second fog right now- where the obsession lifts and I wonder what I have been doing. This last obsession was with reading books on magic written prior to the 1700s. And while it was somewhat interesting, eventually the patterns of the books began to clash with the patterns of my brain until I just didn’t feel like myself anymore.

The books were what I would call “occult.” Which (to me) means harnessing spiritual powers to create change on earth. The occult has masculine, religious overtones that don’t sit right in my stomach. Fathers, hierarchies, magic squares, solemnity & robes- these are the things that belong to men.

Then there is witchcraft, of course, but I am not womanly enough for that. Long flowing dresses, pools of naked women, bubbling cauldrons, turning men into frogs- witchcraft is only for earth mothers or lesbian teenagers.

Luckily, I believe that between the higher world of celestial magic and the lower* world of earth powers, there is a third world where magic resides. A world so ordinary it does not appear magical at all. Maybe I will tell you about it sometime. But right now I have to cook dinner. I hope all is well in your secret existence.

A shopping spree from when I thought orange was the answer to everything. (But still could not help picking up some browns, since I have this obsession with brown despite the two of us having nothing in common.)

A shopping spree from when I thought green was the answer to everything. But, once again, I could not resist grabbing a few brown bowls as well due to the funny feeling they give me.

Categories
Astrology Charleston, West Virginia Purple, Magic & Sorcerers Writings

Reading Balls

Since James is asleep and I need someone to talk to, I have decided to spill my mind on you, my wise and invisible friend.

As I mentioned before, I used to begin each day with “ESP Journaling” which entailed drawing pictures of the colored balls that were (psychically) pelting me. Each ball represented a thought, emotion, or intention coming towards me or James from someone else.

As I started to get more traffic on my website, though, the number of balls grew and blended until eventually it just felt like a wall of fire surrounding my head. So I stopped the whole ESP journal thing because the energy felt too overwhelming to break apart. ESP is easiest when you are dealing with a small amount of information.

Today though, I decided to put on my purple necklace and ESP journal again, just for old times sake.

Let me share with you how it is done.

1. First, I scan my body to find the areas most under attack. Generally, this is my head. If, for example, I have recently posted something political on Facebook, my head will get bombarded. This has held me back from public sharing on many occasions, since balls to the head can be quite distracting, and -what is worse- draw your attention away from more vital interactions taking place lower in the body.

Other common ‘attack sites’ are the heart, stomach and sexual organs. The heart is generally linked to betrayal, affection, manipulation, and people trying to get stuff from you. Stomach attacks seem to relate to professional competition (people rarely direct these at me, but I pick up the ones sent to my husband.)

The sexual organs, unsurprisingly, link to sex. Sexual ESP is a world unto itself, and hopefully I will write about it at length in the future. For now, I will just say that it has radically transformed my view of life- and not for the better. I am still trying to dig beneath conventional understandings of sex though, to understand what the energy is all about. I feel like it is the key to something huge.

2. Next, I use my hands to determine the color of the energy and what it is doing. The color part is easy. Understanding what the color is doing, though, is more confusing and sometimes ties my brain in knots. The color can be moving towards you, away from you, hiding behind another color, slithering two ways at once through a metal tube, etc.

If, for example, someone is intentionally ignoring you, you will see a ball filled with color, but the color will be moving away from you to the far side of the ball. If someone is hiding something from you, the color will hide behind a gray field. If they are hiding something from themselves (trying to be unconscious of it) the color will hide behind a clear field.

Sometimes I will see clear fields coming from James when he doesn’t want me to ESP him. Unfortunately, the clear field only attracts my attention and then it is quite easy to peak behind it.

3. Next, I check to see who the energy is coming from. This can be obvious, if it is James or someone I am familiar with. But -to my own surprise- even when it is a stranger I can usually make out their gender, hair color, age range and body type. Still, to get this information I have to squint my eyes, which can feel uncomfortable, so I sometimes skip this step out of laziness.

Keep in mind that most of these balls are not revealing fascinating secrets, but rather mundane information. If someone argues with James on Twitter, for example, they will show up as a ball. In fact, there may even be a ball for each individual tweet. So once you do this enough, you start to lose your patience for squeezing your brain just to determine the hair color of the dude James tweeted at.

4. Finally, I see what other information I can glean from the balls. Generally, this is nothing more than the basic emotion being emitted. If- however- it is an area of fascination- relating to love or secrets for example- then I will sometimes look hard enough to see images forming in the colors.

But generally, I don’t take it this far, because there are so many balls to cover that I have to keep moving. I normally do my journal for about an hour and in that time can only cover a fraction of the balls available. Because every little thing that does or doesn’t happen in this world leaves a ball behind.

Of course, it isn’t just balls. Other things I might draw in my journal include:

  • Mind overlaps. This occurs when someone is thinking about you to the extent that their mind overlaps yours and you can’t think your own thoughts. I don’t know if anyone can overlap anyone else’s mind at will, or if there have to be pre-existing conditions in place.
  • Rectangle ghosts. I wrote about these before. It is my name for when a person’s whole energy system overlaps your body at once. I mostly experienced these when I did astrology readings for people, and it is the main reason I stopped. The good part is you can get a lot of information about a person. The bad part is being filled with thoughts, feelings and urges that make no sense and can sometimes be painful or destructive. Of course, once you realize it is just someone else’s rectangle ghost you gain some amount of control over the situation.
  • Poles & Barbs: Poles are used to control people and barbs are used to injure. I mostly see poles on the head and barbs at the heart.
  • People Balls: In addition to balls representing thoughts and emotions, there is a more stable set of balls which represent the various people in your life. These balls tend to stay in the same place and remain the same color. When they do change position or color, you know something has changed in the relationship. The balls of those you are look up to appear above your head, while the balls of those you relate to as children appear beneath the shoulders.

    You will also see lines coming off these balls, which show the other people each person is connecting to. So, people with whom you have no personal relationship are still showing up in your aura, just by being connected to the same people as you. These balls and lines together look a lot like drawings of molecules.

    *
    Okay, thanks for listening, friend. Sometimes I feel isolated- as though I am living in my own world. But now that you have read this, it is a world that we share. You are a ball in my mind, and I am a ball in yours.

Random page from ESP Journal. Generally I would do maybe 3 or 4 pages like this a day & it would still be a tiny fraction of everything I could have drawn.

Sometimes when things get X rated I switch to a code to preserve the chastity of all involved. Since I am kind of paranoid when it comes to secrets, the code doesn’t translate directly into a specific language. Sometimes I can’t even read it myself, since I change the language up over time. All names are blurred except for James’s, since he told me not to. He thinks I should be more transparent & less secretive.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Uncategorized Writings

My Resolution

I am posting this here, because it is my resolution & I need to remember it at all costs:

I must never be nice to any men or give them complements.

Not that I am going to be mean to them either. The goal is to be neutral and if I need a subject to talk about, I will talk about how awesome I am.

Because men are computers and kind words are milk that gum them up. Because men are dogs and complements register as signs of submission and inferiority.

Good men don’t want to be coddled anyway. Men don’t take bubble baths to relax. Generally, they can only relax through murdering something, in one form or another. Why waste precious milk on beings who don’t need it?

Not only will niceness corrode the character of good men, it also signals to bad men that you are available for mistreatment.

But this will be hard. Not being nice is probably the hardest thing for females to do. It may be physically impossible.

I am going to try, though, as an experiment. I can only pray Heaven will loan me the  balls to follow through. If it works, and I have finally discovered the secret to men, I will let you know.

But let’s face it, I will never be able to follow through. I can already feel complements welling up in my mind. Women are programmed to sacrifice self for others and there is nothing we can do about it.

And, fwiw, when I compared men to dogs, I didn’t mean it as an insult. I really like dogs. Just like men. They are amazing.

Categories
Astrology Charleston, West Virginia Politics Writings Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

The Yellows

Political conflict in America tends to happen between two groups- the Reds & the Yellows. Presently, the Reds are more or less aligned with the Republicans and the Yellows  with the Democrats.

I am going to discuss Yellows first, because they are currently on the offensive, attempting to brand Reds as racist, hateful, and ignorant, and in some cases going so far as to ostracize them from social groups.

Astrologically, the Yellows may be agitated by to Pluto’s voyage through the sign of Capricorn. Pluto represents lust for power and Capricorn our desire to be someone of importance in society. This transit intensifies the desire for prestige and social position, urges which are key to a Yellow’s psychology.

Yellows feel confident in their physical survival and tend to take it for granted. Unlike Reds, they do not worry that they will die of starvation or freeze to death in the cold. They don’t care about gun rights, for example, because they can’t easily imagine a time when they would be fighting for their lives.

Yellows’ drama revolves around their need to feel successful and respected. However- viewing life through a mental/social lens and frequently lacking connection to the physical and spiritual worlds- Yellows tend to harbor so many judgments about what it means to be a person of value, that it can be difficult for them to live up to their own standards. And that is where the problems begin.

Ideally, when a person feels like a loser they could take the opportunity to re-evaluate their own ideas. What does it mean to be a loser? What yardsticks am I using to measure success? Are these truly valid? But Yellows are unlikely to do this, since they are typically surrounded by people who share their ideas, making it difficult to step back and reevaluate .

The reason they tend to be surrounded by like-minded people is, of course, because they judge those with different values so harshly that they cannot easily associate with them, much less forge a deep bond. Although Yellows tend to be bright on a mental level, this mental light frequently blocks other levels of consciousness that run on darkness, giving them less access to imagination, spirituality, and the ability to change perspectives at will. They are mentally locked in to one view of life.

So, being unable to easily rearrange the contents of their own mind, when a Yellow feels blocked in their ability to achieve social status and validation, they begin to sublimate.

A first step of sublimation is when they cease to judge themselves by the success they have achieved, and instead pride themselves on their knowledge. Being mental, knowledge is an easy thing to devote themselves to.

Yellows are the ones to seek Phd’s with no obvious application. Maybe they would fail at running a business, but who can stop them from becoming an expert on George Washington? Who can stop them from obsessively following the news and then considering ignorant those who can’t place Syria on a map? Who can stop them from learning a second language and talking in a haughty tone about the importance of being multi-lingual?

This, of course, backfires when they become so terrified of looking stupid that it retards their ability to learn. The desire to seem smart, ironically, causes a person to become increasing stupid. The desire to seem knowledgeable causes a person to pick up less information from the world around them.

In another, more extreme form of sublimation, the Yellow may detach from the color Yellow altogether and try to become a Gold- a saintly, altruistic person who desires to save the world. This allows them to decide that personal success is, in fact, a superficial goal in the face of all the world’s suffering, and gives them a graceful way to exit the rat race without admitting defeat. For it is the rat race itself which is the problem- they tell themselves- and now they are part of the solution.

As a bonus, once Gold, they can occupy their minds with “those less fortunate” and those whom they see as beneath them. While those who- by their own standards- are superior to them are turned into villains, rather than painful reminders of their own suppressed desires.

For even when a Yellow goes Gold, that old yellow pain is still inside them. If they were competing in the rat race, at least the pain could spur them on towards better performance, but now that they have dropped out, the pain must be released in other ways.

So, even while ostensibly trying to change the world, the lion’s share of their energy will go towards disparaging those who are not doing their part. They cannot help but feel rage towards those who are murdering whales and enslaving orphans as they take another bite of their whale meat sandwich and check news reports from a phone made in a child slave shop.

Because, in essence, Yellows have a competitive, hierarchical view of life. They want to be better and more important than others, but- especially once they go gold- they can no longer admit this since it would be a moral flaw, and what’s worse, force them to deal with their own pain rather than turning it into hatred.

Communism and socialism are appealing to desperate Yellows (though less appealing to Yellows who feel they are “winning”- a group I have not touched on in this post). Communism demonizes the rich and successful. It turns them from objects of envy into hated villains. In addition, it promises the ultimate escape from the painful rat race- by abolishing the game altogether. Yellows would feel less conflicted leaving the rat race behind if everyone else was forced to leave it as well.

Of course, even in communism, Yellows would seek a way to feel superior to those around them. But perhaps they could accomplish this more easily once the most powerful all have a hand tied behind their back.

So, what is the solution for Yellows? How can they escape their own internal hell without dragging the rest of us into it?

If Yellows could form relationships with those who don’t share their values- i.e. people from other cultures- this could go a long way towards loosening the grip that their own prejudices have on them.

Perhaps this is why Yellows frequently idealize travel. Sourcing information primarily from the human world, they may need to be surrounded by different sorts of minds in order to step outside of their own.

Of course, travelling to faraway lands is not always practical. Ideally, Yellows could simply associate with those nearby who are unlike themselves, those who think differently. But this they will find more challenging. Faraway people are not competition, not much of a threat, and thus it is easier to see the good in them.

A related skill that would benefit Yellows is learning to suspend judgment. Can you set aside your judgments, your values, for brief periods of time, just long enough to enter the imagination of another person and see the world through their eyes?

Yellows are frequently so caught up in evaluating the world that their imagination becomes stunted. They don’t realize that life takes on completely different patterns- like a kaleidoscope- when seen through different eyes. Truths that are towering from one frame are no longer visible from another.

But if Yellows could practice this purple skill of changing their point of view at will, it could begin to loosen the knots in their stomach. Perhaps this is why Yellows are frequently a fan of drugs, because drugs give them relief from an overly fixed view of reality and help them to move into their third eye.

Above all, though, Yellows need to change how they define success. They need to realize that success is what you give to the world, not what the world gives to you. If others admire and respect you- that is their doing and possibly a credit to them- but no credit to you. You get credit for the light you emit, but not for the light that is shined on you.

Yellows tend to get caught up in striving to catch a glorious reflection of themselves in someone else’s eyes. Their fundamental need is self-esteem. But you can never gain self-esteem that way. I have come to believe that self-esteem is actually a  simple thing which hinges on one factor- work.

When a person focuses on doing whatever work they feel called to do- and the work itself becomes their goal- a source of light begins to build up from within. You see your own value made manifest around you- the cars you have fixed, the children you have raised- whatever it is you are doing.  You see in concrete form your own value and therefore naturally begin to lose the need for your value to be affirmed by others. It is already self-evident.

And luckily, this places self-esteem under our own control. To achieve a place of honor in society is difficult, may require sacrificing parts of our identity, and hinges on many factors outside of our control. But doing good work, and taking pride in it, is a universal cure available to everyone. Like sunshine.