(Neptune on the Moon’s South Node in Pisces square Saturn in Sagittarius)
Sitting, reflecting, disintegrating into the world, as always, as always.. Greeted by a great sadness and sharp bitterness which follows back and forth, up and down, through so many hallways and darkened corridors and for so long… It is the ice, the arctic desert, which surrounds and feels so familiar, as if the lifeless tundra were the heritage and the life-giving sun itself were just another fluorescent lightbulb on a billboard lining an abandoned highway…
Despite the wide variety of collected masks, who can argue that beneath the heavy makeup and artificial coloring these faces are made up of that cracked pavement of the millionth deserted strip mall; Where the sound of the wind breathing through the trees has been replaced by the sound of the wind blowing one, lonely, empty shopping cart with rusted and squeaky wheels…
How lovey it would be, for overflowing volcanoes to fill these spaces with an ocean of hot magma, that could melt all this ice, and even the hardened black tar beneath. How lovely it would be, to see the celebrations and dancing around the fire, drawing pictures with smoke in the air, singing the songs of liberated children in the warmth of the soft and humid tropical moonlit sky…
Perhaps if we use enough concealer, it can look young again. Perhaps if we cover the concrete with a layer of green latex, the atmosphere will appear alive again. Perhaps in playfully joining hands, singing ‘ring around the rosie’ the tragedy of time and history will be replaced by something new. Once the old is properly buried and the past is forgotten – what could go wrong today?
Barbed wire still surrounding thousands of miles of old concentration camps and torture chambers could cease to exist if only enough snow fell; If enough layering of white conveniently created a blank canvas upon which to hallucinate new visions of something different. Is it getting warm here or are the senses so frozen and whiplashed that it just seems so?
Up up up and away, into the vortex of the guillotine, the assumed savior, the entrusted sanctuary; The portal to the place where only vision can exist and bright colors whirl and dance about before disembodied and hypnotized faces. The final step off the cliff so never again will feet touch the ground… But just look, and see! How the concealer has made us young, the latex has made the atmosphere alive! All is light! No more feeling, no more sensation, no more home, just the world envisioned.
Light – like any other light – Florescent and brightly shining on a billboard lining an abandoned highway…
