Eye roll, rapid breathing, parched throats…all just reactions. Coming on to us like waves. Sneaking onto the solid rock of I-AM, add a dash of hormone, mix it with karma, sauté it ACTION-REACTION.
The waves keep crashing. Sometimes silently, sometimes with a growling intensity, sometimes cheerful…they are incessant! These thoughts as waves. This thesis and antithesis. Is there a fucking synthesis?
Absurd, random, chaotic…fertile chaos magic.
There is weirdness in all of us. Show light on the weird. Sometimes they hold treasure. There is no shame in weirdness. Embrace it. Embrace yourself.
Using writing, astrology and tarot…I try to purge all the existential absurdism. Psychic whispers tell me that the search for this elusive meaning is anticlimactic in itself. Lack of meaning or meaning- both equally absurd. Tarot shows me this absurd.
What can the cards tell anyone of anything? What the fuck are they? Just a pack of cards. The images on the tarot can be a part of the noise reduction process of your mind. This white noise of society is driving us nuts, driving us into insanity. Insane in the membrane. Insane, got no brain…
Noise reduction is tarot. It stills my inner voice. There is so much noise in me, the tugging of opposites. This cacophony is enough to drive anyone crazy. Noise reduction. Noise reduction. Silence. Silence. DANGER! Exploding minds syndrome.
Not possible. Work, home, family…how can I explore my inner adventure. The Sun card comes to mind. A child is the father of man. No positive, no negative. Just being. I have so much darkness and so much light. Somewhere it is all churning, grey….50 fucking shades of grey!!
The chart is a physical piece of fucking paper. The planets can absorb my mixed emotions. They have their own that they give me. The tarot is a filmset. The shot is being taken. I wait while the archetype shoots itself, like a millionth time. The EMPEROR is the father is the Emperor. Father figure explosions. 9th house shit. Blend it like a cosmic smoothie.
The tarot is an outlet for my emotions. It is like an emotional sponge. It flies around with energy. I bathe in the sensations my mind, body, soul produces in me. Their ripple felt in every part- from the vagina to the tips of my toes. So much of my life was spent in noise, but tarot+astro+treehugging+sacredsexuallove reduced this noise. These are not hobbies. They are a part of my I-AM-NESS.
They are not some business. They are my spirit guides. There is no fucking way my life would make sense if I had not studies astrology or gazed at the tarot. Artists, Empaths and sensitive souls can explore so much of their creativity through these mediums.
My release, my cosmic orgasm, my spiritual space of light….no my shit your shit…our shit. One ginormous turd of shit…