Copy & pastes.
My weekly horoscope broken down, some writing exercises and general pondering.
After a wholesome weekend with loved ones — part of it spent celebrating one of my favourite humans with a lot of whisky in a semi-underground ship-themed bar, dancing freely to The Jam and Bryan Ferry, the rest under a duvet struggling to break free or just form a coherent thought, and then at a friend’s magical poetry event in a safe space opposite the gloomy sea — I am back in the Writing Workshop with some welcome sun streaming in the window from beyond the church wall, 50mg of Lisdexamfetamine in my system combined with ill-advised coffee jitters, staring at a To Do list as long as both of my arms inked with naked ladies, espresso pots, plants and pigeons among other things. When I come here I always try to write something just for me, before I attempt all these little tasks and activities, but as I’m short on time today, here are some smaller pieces…
My horoscope for this week, according to my free CoStar subscription —
‘Your vision has been clear regarding your romantic or creative life. Change and separation will force you to let go and move on. This situation will force a separation between your recent sense of lucidity and the fields of your natural talents.’
I don’t know how true this is. Or is it that I do know, and won’t admit it? It’s definitely a little late if it’s the latter; my Tower(s) tumbled at the end of last year and I’m still pondering on the piles of bricks, picking them up one by one and trying to work out what fits in the new construction and what’s best left — or crushed.
As I said in a recent post (below), I need the universe to shuffle the deck again and lay things out a little more clearly. I also need an income, ideally. And I definitely don’t need to date.
The horoscope continues; ‘Lean on your natural talent for discretion and unearthing the truth as much as possible right now. Just as there are no distinct beginnings, there is no final state. You must always be in flux.’
I am very discreet, unless I’m not. I’m told my face often gives me away, and don’t try to ‘fix’ it when I probably ought to. I lust after the truth, but trust that it will come when it’s meant to, often from the most unexpected places or mouths. Sometimes I try to hold my own atoms of truth inside me until I feel like they’ll surely burst out. That’s what therapy is for, isn’t it? One of the many things.
I’m done being ‘in flux’, thank you. I want something solid and dependable. This morning I applied for a job I really want, and got butterflies when pressing ‘send’. I think that’s a good sign; wanting something so much that it scares you.
‘This separation will see its beginnings in your subconscious in conjunction with the ways you find joy. You’ll first notice these changes in the unconscious motivation behind what you do in your free time.’
Again, referring to that mildly depressing recent post; I’m hustling hard in my spare time. I’m claiming undue rewards and selling shedded souls imprinted in polyester, but I’m also trying to find the joy I have always had but lately neglected in reading and writing. The two simplest things, and the first things you learn at school, surely? So how do they ebb and flow and fade with time?
‘This change will impact your resourcefulness and alter how you think about the world. The things you want: what are they really standing in for?’
So this refers to the changes in my unconscious, not subconscious. Or rather, the unconscious that comes from the apparent/alleged conjunction with my subconscious. I’ll try and be conscious. I definitely identify with the assessment of what I want and how that intersects with what I would stand for. I have baskets and boxes of belongings that I don’t seem to use or appreciate very often, like toys swept under the bed in one’s childhood home, except they’re adult odds and ends from different lives; bits of tech, notebooks I’ve not used, shoes that don’t fit or want for a new sole, crystals that need charging on one of my many Selenite coasters, stat. I also want to think more about the world. I’m always thinking about my own, as well as the wider. How I feel about it, what I can change within it, and what I’d delete in a heartbeat.
‘You may not be able to see exactly where you’re headed. In moments like these, you are forced to let go of control.’
Well, yes. I have no clue where I’m headed, and very aware that my issue is control.
Now, here are some writing exercises from my first session of this experimental fiction course —
Exercise #1 (each sentence must begin with the next letter in the alphabet)
All my time recently seems to be spent in the Writing Workshop space. Being unemployed would be so wonderfully freeing if it weren’t for the endless anxiety coupled with a deep fear of the unknown. Costs, too. Daily life incurs so many costs — although, I didn’t necessarily need the discounted vegan chocolate protein bars I purchased today between running errands and doing what little freelance work I have currently, but it was a golden opportunity as the website rarely stocks them these days. Everyone seems to have got wise to the Best Before Date nonsense.
Feeling… how am I feeling? Goodness knows. How am I, really? I try to ask myself this question regularly, check in with my mind, body and either/or, but don’t always come up with answers — in fact, it varies wildly every half hour or so.
Exercise #2 (my idea of a dream day, can’t use any full stops, only commas)
(**optional extra, don’t use ‘and’ or ‘the’) — I did not do this, despite having every intention to!
My dream day, if we can even conceive of that because really what’s a dream day, should it have capital letters maybe like Dream Day, I’m asking too many questions — I like to think my dream day would be spent with the people I love, making memories in the sunshine at the park with a picnic spread out lavishly between and around us all, maybe in a bandstand or by a lake, because we love whimsy and bodies of water, maybe the two could go together, maybe maybe maybe, and then I think maybe not, because supposedly I love being alone and that’s my brand as a cool unbothered 30-something woman, but I also love being with someone who would care for me and worship me and bring me everything I could ever want, in a neat little package presented in a hug, and then we’d go to a bookshop and not get in trouble for spending too much time or bending spines, they’d find me a vegan chocolate and crunchy peanut butter cake just like the one a very self-absorbed friend would make me many years ago, we’d eat wedges of it together and celebrate my birthday or my achievements or just me, being me, despite everything, because at times it feels like everything is against me, although I know I’m not that important in the grand scheme of things for that to be true.
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Thank you for reading my copies, pastes + creative hot takes.
