Implements And Devices

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The methotrexate ritual can be a hard row to hoe. There is lots of different side effect, most of which can't be seen, but the one reliable reaction to taking my weekly dosage is nausea. Physical nausea. Mental nausea. The very thought of eating some foods that I eat regularly make me wanna retch. Retching is always consciously reachable for a couple of days after I put that stuff into my GI tract. It's chemotherapy plain and simple.

I ask myself all the time why I do this to myself. Is being alive worth it?Probably not. But, that's nothing new. I've asked myself that question everyday at some one ti-me or the other for the last fifty years, and I ain't dead yet. If thinking about suicide invites it, then why am I always the last to know?

It's represented in the comic strips as a simple and plain-spoken, "Oh....". Many other forms of the media go ahead and add the other word, "Oh... Shit!" To me it begins with a sinking sensation in the physical area of my heart, a heaviness I can only watch in sheer dread. "The jig is up, man, all hope is lost."

Older generations that were still alive when I begin to become aware that there were other people in the world than my family members. I was instinctually aware of them, but their otherness didn't make any sense to me for a long time. Longer than average I think. But, whatta I know?

It seems obsessive the way I react to chance and to change. Sometime I put off making critical decisions until the last possible moment, and then of course, sometime I wait too long and queer the whole deal with my outrageous inertia. It's not nice watching people who have let me think for them implode and renege on their investment. Everything I denied myself to give them gone walking away.

It's not like I am is not there watching the whole thing as if from afar. It be-co-me-s with a distant witness that's in a resting state, and they watch without comment or summarization. Recaps are extraneous. Putting on a different head to say the sa-me thang seems irksome. Irritating. Extraneous to the extreme.

"Ain't nobody knows
the troubles I've seen.
There ain't nobody that
knows my sorrow.
Nobody knows the troubles I've seen... Glory!
Hallelujah."

Finding out for sure that I was born in Taurus instead of Aries was a big deal for me because previously I hadn't known it could be figured so close. When I found out it could be figured to the minute, to the second, I figured I better learn how to do that myself. That's what it turned out to be alright. A system for figuring things.

I needed a system for figuring things desperately. Furthermore, I needed a system for figuring things that nobody could gainsay. I hate for people to go around confusing the issues I'm interested in with facts. I needed something nobody else had, and when, after years of study and practice, it became more and more apparent that I had chosen a path with heart.

You can't argue astrology with me, and I'm not gonna argue astrology with you. If you know enough about astrology in a technical way to argue with me about some point I inculcate from the seat of my pants, I'll concede your point immediately and move on. Whatta ya gonna do? It's a system for figuring things, not God's gift to mankind. Granted, being dismissive toward people who worship graven images ain't a vote-getter.

Once I had generated my own thousand natal charts I set about using this system for figuring things on a real time basis. Not by making thousand of my natal charts for the ingrates, but by holding hands with them unimpeded by implements and devices. I.E., graven images.

For me, the whole point of my learning how to make astrology charts for other people was to get to interpret those charts for my friends. I never made no natal chart for money. That wasn't the point. Okay, when I was learning to make astrology charts I didn't really know what the point was. I figured that if I learned this system for figuring things... I'd figure it out. Later. When some joker was getting ready to expose me as a fraud. Then, I'd figure it out, and that's what happened. Why am I always... ?

The reason for learning astrology is to learn to interpret what they mean to the chart's owner, the native. The native inhabitant of those nether regions from whence came they help. Natives of such and such. Natives of so and so. Native to a certain cultural naiveté. With a certain bent, with their own sense of identity, probably by tribe rather than by individuation.

The reason for learning astrology is to read the signs of some other's situation as if it were familiar to you as the lines in the palms of their hands. That's what palmistry is about. Reading the native's natal imprints from the lines in the palms of their hands, and then speculating what that leads them inevitably to.

Your normal, average, run-of-the-mill homo sapiens hasn't got a clue about what their future holds for them. Neither does the remaining elite, if such is so. People can't perceive their own subjective possibilities for the future in the specious present or eternal now! That makes them vulnerable to whatever co-me-s along, and they just hate it. No blame.

The problem with learning to read people's palms is that by doing it, the palmist is generating his own future via the prognostications he heaps on his hand-lers. This amounts to prophesying one's own fate. Is that a path with heart?
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