I haven’t been able to write much recently, because something has made me non-verbal. I am worried about what is going on with the government & the worldwide response to corona virus which seems blown so far out of proportion from our normal responses to disease and death, that it is hard not to fear something nefarious is going on.
I also feel distressed that some seem to revel in the shutdowns. I suppose my faith in humanity tends to wax and wane and right now it is at a waning point. During the waning times, it is harder to speak, because what is the point in speaking if there are no sincere people to hear you?
I was expecting things to grow darker this spring as Neptune moved into the third and darkest phase of Pisces. In the second phase, which we have been living through for the past 4-5 years, the public grows infantile & self-serving, emotional & out of touch with reality. The good part is that it is a time when people are too lazy & pathetic to do much damage.
But in the third phase of Pisces, that changes. Now Pisces begins to pick up force and momentum, yet it is still insane, like a person whose body has woken up while their mind remains dreaming. The last time Neptune passed through Pisces’s third phase was when the civil war began.
So it is hard for me to look at what is happening, the words which don’t make since, the explanations which always morph and never add up, without fearing that something scary could be afoot.
Perhaps though, this is simply Neptune in Pisces’ third phase playing its tricks on my mind. Neptune colors our perceptions of life and in its third phase can fill us with irrational fear. Perhaps that is why it is so easy for people to be respond to corona virus with a level of horror they have never shown for far more dangerous diseases.
Anyway, let’s hope for the best and that we soon return to the old ways. Let’s hope this does not result in a permanent restriction of our freedoms. Let’s hope it never dampens our desire to mix and get dirty with other humans.
Here are the lyrics:
When I don’t listen you hold a pillow over my face til I do. That’s why I don’t think you will ever love me now- you’ll find somebody new.
And I swear I wouldn’t care so long as you felt it was wrong to just grab me by the neck and throw me up against a wall but when i ask you bout it you tell me that you don’t want to pop but the crying noise just has to stop.
Sometimes I close my eyes and see a world that’s black with men as white as stars. Just like a globe that I could shake and shake each time that things have gone too far.
Something I could hold just like a globe inside my hands So I shake it and I shake it- oh look here comes a man But he is trapped inside the globe- he’s only one inch high There is no place to run and hide.
Give it just a little more time. This may only be in your mind. There’s no way to say what is real and what is make believe you know. Look at all the stars in the sky, girl. You could find a way to get high, girl. You could fly away into a state of ecstasy and glee you know.
I know I will stay. Life- lay your hand on me and guide me on my way.
I stay up late at night and make a list of ways to make you love me more. I know it won’t succeed cause men they only love the ones they’re fighting for.
And I’d do anything on earth if you would fall in love with me But there are things I can’t control, I don’t know what you want to see. The only thing I know for sure is that you like to be alone But either way, you are my home.
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.
Ever since I left New England, I’ve felt a touch disoriented. After a couple years in New Hampshire, my life started to gain a clear and singular focus- to escape the cold, dark world of the Yankees. But now that I’m in West Virginia, the meaning of life seems more vague. It’s sunny and warm outside, the biscuits are big, cheap, and fluffy, the people are friendly (and to my surprise they actually DO say ain’t and decorate with confederate flags), and yet… at the same time, here I am all alone in a big white apartment, no friends or connections, nothing to do, nowhere to go… it’s as though I’ve left the North, but the North hasn’t left me.
So I took a good look at the man in the mirror, and decided that I need to become a warmer person. Which is why I have to give up ice cream. The thing about frozen treats is, once I start eating them, they take me to a strange head space from which it impossible to stop. James will drive me to four different McDonalds in a row, so I can get a cone at each one without seeming weird. Then I will fill the entire freezer with a selection of ice cream bars, ice cream sandwiches, ice creams, and popsicles, which I will eat continuously until the very last one is gone. Which might not be so much of a problem, if I wasn’t such a cold person to begin with. It only takes a few servings until I start shaking with the chills, and after a few days of this, I am so cold I can’t leave my bed, but just lie there convulsing under an electric blanket. Obviously, this is no way to build the Fire Within. So from now on, whenever I want ice cream, I’m going to drink hot chocolate instead. Because chocolate is passionate and fiery and people who eat lots and lots of it are less likely to get murdered. Which brings me to another addiction that I must give up.
Which is watching murder mysteries. The pattern is pretty similar to the ice cream- once I start watching murder mysteries it becomes impossible to stop. I have to watch five a day, and I start to feel more and more afraid of being murdered until it interferes with my ability to function in life. Last night, for example, I couldn’t sleep because of a tapping sound which I was convinced was the tapping of a spoon that somebody wanted to use to remove my eyeballs. Ugh, I am freaking out just remembering it! But the point is, I need to stop watching these movies that keep me frozen in fear, and watch heart warming comedies instead. Comedy has never been my favorite genre- who wants to be the idiot laughing their head off as someone creeps in the window to murder them? But if watching comedies can melt the giant glacier that my life has become, then I am going to do it.
So, anyway, this song is sort of related to my craving for fire and heat, because it was inspired by the spirit of the tropical ginger plant, whom I imagine as a warm, brave, and wily man, one of the many justice spirits I like to believe are roaming our world.