i’d been pondering over this for a while. today, through a grueling set of events, mostly due to my complete exhaustion, i revisited a yellow piece of paper sitting in my closet. the river guide. with 8, 7, 1 scrawled in the corner in a girls handwriting. the question had been “is there another out there for me”. well, number 38, fire over lake, says “Resisting the flow of creative energy compounds negative attitudes inside us, which in turn increases resistance in a vicious circle. Everything we experience gives us an opportunity to learn and grow, but we must be willing to scratch beneath the surface.”

then by transforming the lake into water, we get a future outlook of 64. “During times of renewal and transformation, there is intense pressure to succeed but, to get anywhere worthwhile, you need to proceed carefully, affirming devotion to higher principles.”

basically i am taking this as a no. after listening to manly p hall’s lecture on alchemy, he talks about the alchemist transforming fire over water as a hermaphroditic transformation within himself. that the alchemist is able to reproduce without a mate. that the secret of generation must be solved by an amalgamation within.

i must die without an heir.

fuck.

this shit has really depressed me. i knew it all along, but to have sticks shove it so blatantly in my face just plain hurts. i find it hard to find a reward in doubling down and dedicating myself to isolation. to find happiness in the painful practice of asana. which as it suggests, i have just scratched the surface, and perhaps i should listen and go further.

perhaps there truly is some golden reward of illumination within. as so far as i have resisted knowing initiation, though i have discovered that i have gone through the ritual of initiation many of times. we all have if you wore a mortar board to graduation and crossed your arms as you received a diploma or degree.

fuck. it all has to do with d. assuming the name of drake. inherited over generation so that i would appear at the right time to make it all happen. the light of the cataclysm. the new foundation to build upon. a new paradigm. a struggle when i just want to snuggle. but i am the last, nay, the first, and that is not the option for me.

it has been made clear. my struggles in the education of the mountains. my first partner, she of wisdom. my last partner, a epitome of the act. and all those in between. short and done over quickly. never a love within reach.

i’ve always said to myself i would not be where i am today if i had found a cute girl to settle down with. my mind would never have opened the way it did. perhaps all that pain was part of the play. perhaps the pain i am about to endure will break the circle. will undo the evils of division and return to the identity of difference and purity. restore it to whole numbers and detract the space in between.

float away into integers.

my education. my position. my constitution. they all point toward something greater. it is only my own longings that hold me here. striving for something that i see others hold so dear. i want that too. so i sit here and garden in the middle of the earth, when i only have to make one utterance to set the whole thing asunder.

square the circle.

double the cube.

i now can only find company in riddles.

vvvvv

don’t let a bitch get between you and your magick. yea, thanks i ching.

it has been interesting settling in to nature.

my mom comes home today and cuts her finger skinning squash. you don’t need to skin squash. she started crying. turns out it was because she felt stress from a self induced role becoming her identity and failing to meet the duties of that role and not realizing that nobody else around her even gave a fuck if she took that role or if she “failed”. in fact, everyone was quite unsettled that she actually did take that role. everyone said, relax, be you, don’t worry about dinner, if i were hungry and i wanted it done differently, i would be doing it.

she was also stressed because she went to the store and there was nobody there. not like short lines, but more like tumbleweeds. abandoned was the feeling she probably wanted to encapsulate her shock, her realization that oh, you know what, babalon is falling. this is the end of the supermarket. this is the end of poisonous emotional food. everything she knows is wrong, but never had the heart to abandon it when it was fat.

she sees the end of the world.

i see rebirth. a new chance. a righteous humanity arising from the finest vine. i have already forgone many of my attachments. my shock will be minimal. if i can survive the chemical attacks. but at that point, you may as well just give in. i expect hardship, but not challenges.

give us us free.

i don’t find it flattering to repeat shit i know. go find your own experience.