why did i have to get born on this goddamn planet? well?

this started as a brief comment on facebook. someone posted a link about drug cartels lobbying to --- surprise! --- keep pot illegal. but of course such things can easily make my sentence turn into a novella because im just really, really peeved these days. about all sorts of things but mostly those things boil down to being heartily sick of struggling just to eat decently and use my creativity, or hell, even to just sit down in fort street mall to listen to the musicians playing (yep; a security guard had a problem with that. reason was useless. so i just told him how absurd he was being and defied his order to stand not sit. he tried to get me arrested but no cops ever came. many many many of these asinine things have, over time, irritated me to crankhook. i cant contain it: sometimes i just have to share it that hey, bozos, its not your bosses personal planet and they dont really own anything, its mine and yours as much as theirs. the implications for the guard, being a minion for poverty pay, i leave unsaid)....

anyway igot into a snit and decided rants are best had on one's blog. innocent (and in this case hospitalized) facebook friends' walls arent usually the best venue. so i cut and now, paste. this:
Flickr: - Edited on the iPad - iPadography for iPadographersipadography

oh hell. thanks ipad. so the little trick to reopne tabs on ipad? its quirky. i just tried and it skipped right over facebook. the one i wanted. it had tabs after, tabs before. the one, the only one, with my rant (maybe, not sure because i didnt post it) was just poof! not there.

is this what void of course moon is? i sing the best ever and hey lucky! i was recording. playback is exactly when the tape breaks. i start to rant and finally, finally pull up and switch to blogger (my intention but never did it till now) and my ipad lies. select all? it asks. yes i say. "copy it?" "make it so."

but the paste is some damn thing from flickr. jeeze. oh well. my 30 yearsof fat journals -- thenpoems and sketches and lessons and realizations and character studies and fears and introspections and etc etc etc --- lost to random thieves who just wanted the duffle bag. the tape of my first wedding, cheesy elvis vegas and now long passed but still -- trashed by hubby himself. god knows why. i speculate. awards ceremonies i went to because i was getting an award: they forget to call me. the madrigal group i made as a teen? teacher is confused and the credit goes to a gorl with my name. no one corrected him so it was then hers. puzzling. she wasnt even in the group. all my life, tho the sheer amount of things ive done guaranteed me a measure of recognition, the props and words and regard i wanted most evaded me. something went wrong or was lost or forgotten or broken or mixed up, or time was up.

who knows? maybe its like that for everyone and those who are fiery and confident from childhood are who we see and hear, and those with sudden shyness and a confidence that was slow to come and will never be rock solid constant, maybe we are the void of course mooners (they say void of course moon means you wont accomplish much this time) are the one meant when you hear "well, they just didnt want it enough" or whatever.

that particular whatever came to mind, no doubt, because i am indeed ambivalent. i have more capricorn in my makeup than any other sign. a four-planet stellium (venus mars saturn and, off by herself at the farthest away possible before leaving entirely and entering the fourth house, my unaspected, lonely moon at 29 cap. jupiter in sagg crosses signs to merge with venus at dead zero capricorn, a lucky lucky conjunction. it so routinely attracts potentially wonderful things of all kinds that i didnt see for a very long time how much i didnt really get the potemtial, just the in the moment rush of pleasure. and the sense of how good i must be -- of course is the feeling close behind; dammit, just like calvinists and the st germain folk, i naturally just know that god loves good people and shows it by giving stuff. i dont believe it, at all, except when im the one getting some unearned goodies. then i dont question it.

in fact, the main thing i recall actually making some hay with was the luck of beth being the boss and friend of the lady overseeing my mandatory-to-get-a-ba capstone project (ie, job theoretically relevant to my degree). i wanted to copyedit. my boss asked me at some point what my goal was so i told her. jupiter-venus is like this: beth was one of the top copyeditors in the country, and more, this was the one window of golden opportunity (it turned out) where she was taking proteges. she took me and three more. i lasted longest because i was pretty good, but as she said, it wasnt great for her because here name was on whatever whent out so she had to go over everything her trainees did. might as well just do it herself. she said. i assume she did chage her standard rate, which is not what we made, and rightly so.

tho i went from $12 to $18 in like, a week. yet doing less i made more with askjanis later. because janis was more buisness, less literary, and she wasnt training me, she was hiring me. she did the style (and made some boners too but oh well) and i was basically half-editor half-proofer.

anyway, beth was a living example of why astrologers love jupiter-venus conjunctions. it means good things come. regurlarly. sometimes they come so thick and fast you have to let some go by because theres just no time! also, if youre impulsive and get into situations -- plural -- where you might die any second, where people generally did die in fact, you dont die. you dont even stub your toe. and the timing gives you a miricale adventure that if it hadnt happened and youd been doing whatever you usually did, you'd have been there when the roof broke and everyone else had to pick up all the spinters with bare hands and a cold north wind for the two days you were gone getting almost killed by some ridiculous thing.

my journal was found at lands end in san framcisco by a total stranger. to this day i dont know who. ihaedly knew anyone there yet, and its a big city. the stranger gave it to another stranger -- elliot katz, founder of city celebrations. free co certs for the poor! all over the city. he read my stuff (as a number of others did too, xeroxing even in one case) and inexplicably found me. as i was just stepping out on easter morning.

id been cut from a work week to one day a week because i sucked at washing dishes and dressed like the weirdo i was, and i was worried about that. i was 19 and many years away from knowing i was a good worker and these were bad jobs with dismal pay. so i was happy when elliot offered me work. happybut doubtful i could still type, and too young also to realize that his response to my fears, "dont worry, you can clean or assage me or something" meant he just wanted me around, the typing was incidental. too damn young! because my ego got all butthurt that indeed, my typing was rusty, and i couldnt stand the feeling so i did the only thing i knew then: i ran off. too bad. because my dream was to sing professionally. i told elliot. "oh? do a song then with this band today" he said. so nervous but thrilled, i did "summertime" with no prep no mic experience and a band unsiited to my voice, with an audience not there to hear me sing. i did ok. well enough that elliot propsed to get me voice lessons.

and id likely have reached my dream. that easy. that early. ladies and gentlemen, meet jupiter-venus conjunction. something for everyone! always! and then: more! always always mire.

so of course people with venus-jupiter in their natal charts are generous and optimistic and friendly. why wouldnt they be? they've never gone hungry. and its the very thing that often is v-j's cue: being generous and open and friendly. thats often what leads to the good luck (not always tho, as you can see already i think.)

now that i have gone hungry, my lover recently dying before my eyes, in endless rain, rain for a hundred days, with so many ripp-offs from person after person, friends i had thought, after being refused the smallest help by people i'd taken in not very long before; being lied to, threatened, raped, coldly and harshly turned on, betrayed by a smiling chatty "best friend" whom id offered food advice time and more to when she was in need; and so on....

after about 16 years of largely this kind of thing (the first few were in ashland: inheritance stolen, undermined secretly at work by the worst boyfriend i ever had; jailed for dui -- comically bad public defender btw -- then the knee injury and a year of crutches and pain, then the irs wrongly garnishing me all year, me working illegal double shifts exhaustion to the bones but they took so much i moved into a tiny camper in one bosses yard and bankruptcy ended my perfect -- srsly perfect-- credit rating forever...the tooth trauma and ensuing slowly worsening bone infection (now im tootless)....and there was more. more than i mayever remember. this was/before/ i came here and had the worst time eof my entire life....with some of the best times (right up there with the long stretch of joy and clarity when i was a serious vajrayan lass) .... well, so im not so much reflexively generous, or recklessly optimistic. im still kind and fair because i just am, but i do my best to hide it (i was freshly reminded tho that its just below the lonely, solitary surface i maintain. a glimmer of an echo of a real and honest heart immediately evokes a torrent of words and joy and silliness that does absolutely nothing but drive most people away. i'd calm down but who can wait for it?)

surprisingly, that question has an answer. thieves. thieves can wait it out if need be. also headcases. they're rich with time and more time, and i somehow shimmer to them like a fire that burns on desire alone (theirs, mine). my sparks are diamonds my moods are songs my words a shield against all harms and fears -- except jealousy. even the goddess they create me to be cant touch that. the more i shine (or rage, when i start to see whats happening) the more invisible snares they lay to keep me always and ever.

who could stay? maybe a real goddess. or a sleeping beauty. have enuff blind relationships and you start to see ... patterns. triggers. red flags. what you should do, or shouldnt. even how to be different if youre lucky. like i was. luck hasnt abandoned me btw, it moved out. it comes round occasionally and im always happy and each time i know its because -- but of course! -- the fates and furies of mythology adore me. because why not? im good. im free of most human crap and dont make trouble. and im lovely and sexy and carefree!

sigh. arent we all? perfect. im serious. we are perfectly what we are --- and no one actually knows what is good and what is not, in a cosmic and infinite sense. i'm clear on that for me as a living human, as are most people. but i dont and cant know what the cosmos needs. or the ultimate result of anything. i barelyeven know finite, temporal results of things, even things in my own life, the life i know way better than any other life.

luck droos by still. telling george i was lucky got me a trip to vegas. hows that for luck? jupiter-venus is an aspect of what they call the god reams in buddhism: its happy and little bad if any is there. its only drawback is that, being a result of a cause, it ends. cause and result (karma) exist within what we percieve as time. enlightenment is effortless and unending because its outside of time, or so i gather. maybe for other reasons too but to me it looks like that is /the/ reason its not something youncan lose once you "have" it. once you are it, or once you stop thinking you're a mortal being with all these limitatiins. truly drop that confused belief and immediately you're done.

like when youre asleep: to wake up, you just wake up. once your eyes open and your brain joins your eyes, sleep is gone. you're awake.

man i have got to get it going on, iphone chargin. its not that far, my tent, yet i feel like im in the colestin valley. i come into town and get very little done because first im charging the damn thing which takes hours, then im entranced by it and im working onart and doing mything online. its ok sort of, when i think about it. its just that sense of a person waiing for me and slight guilt of not being there that makes me feel pressured.

but im there to do art. if art gets done, immdoing what i came to do. every person every, they always feel like it to me. its my fate, yes. the whole neptune business, the venus 9 degrees behind mars and closing fast, the libra rising and and rulership of the chart, the legacy wounds of my family im driven to try to heal. im not healing them. i thought i was. maybe i was. maybe i healed up to my limit and to heal more requires intentional actions and lifestyle. maybe i'll do that. maybe i wont or cant. this bothers me again and again. and again.

so i get a little stability and am slightly remived from utter starving poverty. in a month im giving a little food to the other two (chip, jeeze whats his thing there? the hip? because he has the means to eat and hes been there for years. he didnt ask but he tosses things out as asides kinda, which is asking but with deniability. a game, as in "the games people play" book. i did a little when i caught the asides but im not doing any now because of things rachel said. i dont know how much is fact and how much lonely leo insanity, but its early and at no point has the feeling to dismiss her words arisesn. paid them attention from the start, in fact. i dont regret hiding the knives that nite i stayed with a houseful of college kids. this one guy struck me as super unstable. i felt he might do anything, imminently. no one else seemed concerned. safe beats sorry so i hid every sharp metal thing i dcould find. when he herded them all into the bathroom at three am for baptism (why did they stay tho? not awake yet?) they'd have felt better if they knew no knives were available. he thought he was john the baptist....

before i asked, i didnt know. "why is it when guys go crazy, so msny of them thinknthey're john the baptist?" i asked brad. i knew a sec later tho. his reaction said it clearly: he thought he was john too. holy moly. brad was like michael and like monique: nuts but sort of aware of it, at least sometimes. they question more than many people whats what. its tricky to deal with them tho, because they are nuts and can get very upset by something thats nothing to me.

typing is better now. and i see the need to write. without it i overwhel people with my need for words. i dont see things as well either because i cant follow explorations and questions through since im doing them aloud and not alone. im not able to not care about what people i like think of me. so i have to write, for grounding and learning and for clearing things up more in my mind. it will lessen the uncontrollable need to communicate. writing is communicating -- or i can believe it is regardless -- its just not in the same timefrasme like conversing is. it could be centuries for the words ti be heard. you wont hear their words either, but you can imagine them and possibly imagine thebest ones for the moment. which is better really than actual words of actual beings -- for me anyway -- since those tend to run like " you think to much" and " so what?" or they try to manipulate me with self-serving words and im more open when examining things. im trying to learn, at least learn what will enable me to be done and move on. at best i learn the essence, the meaning, the signs, the resulty, they whys, the techniques -- everything. it transforms from a troubling thing to a tool.

no way id give that up. but i dont have to do it anywhere but inside and on paper, real or virtual. the feeling of communicating, even across time, is stronger if i dont lock the blog (i never locked my journals) but i dont have any readers and i dont link here. if its meant to be, it will be. its mine, "my time" as that sad razy leo who raped me at kahala beachpark kept saying. chip called and i was going to leave. it set him off.

theres hella, hella energy/karma there, me and chip. but rarely it /has/ to happen now. i talk like thats commin but its not. the stuff is there but if you dont go there, it doesnt manifest except maybe internally. dreams, hunches. tho in this case its struck me more than once that its a "significant" dynamic. little things and -- like his call triggering rape (!) and the resulting awful sickness for a week and -- holy shit! heroes! it was super painful and often but it stopped and its been nearly a year. i forgot all about it. and so i didnt mention it. shit.

hunch: it will never return. staph will always threaten me but the herpes is just done. i may ir may not harbor it. the hunch is that it wont become active if i do.

if i die with mo outnreak, i was right. hey hey.

i often am pretty damn good. i find and do the right thing almost always. if there is one. but someimes -- hadly ever gimme a break -- i am different. in serious matters. this may be one of thise times and i feel guilty already. christ. having already bad sex without telling anout the herpes risk, i feel extremely disinclined to bring it up in the future. why? what would be saved or learned or gained? yes. i'd prefer not but sometimes i cant deny it: im a member of my race. im as stupid as anyone and i too can fail to prevent suffering, or give in to fear even if only briefly and only to my own detriment (we're all braver on anothers behalf).

my reactions to events are dark and i go fast to suspicion and despair. id get stern with me and force me to ignore it as follish fear born of all the hard times here. except...i have a good track record of being right about such things. i almost always (always?) dont give suspicions and feeling i have enough consideration. many times, reading old journals was like watching murder mystery mivies: "no! listen to your inner voice! you're right, dont go upstairs. just leave! and never come backk"

i'll estimate how many times ive basically intuited things properly (serious things): 60. at least. i forget any things. i only know this from 36 years of keeping journals. i didnt even write daily yet my life is eventful. i wrote maybe -- at best -- a quareter to a third of major stuff. even so, i learned i can and do just completely forget dramatic, life-changing things. unsettling but better to know because i can at least somewhat plan better and spare myself a bit. i also stooped arguing heatedly that i remembered and you didnt. now i argue a bit then remember. "well, maybe you're right and im full of shit. could be so. has been before," i'll say and laugh. idont believe that, not at that moment, but i know for a fact its gonna happen and thats been enough to curb myself.

info: always bneficial. always.

ok its dusk and i've got nickies cheese and the convo wasnt done. i did a lot of good ipad work these two days but forgotnearly every errand.


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