Thursday, March 12, 2015

Good morning, All! Welcome to my MashUp  for 11 March 2015 : the Warrior of Faygos (the Knight of Cups), XV the Devil and lensing in on a primitive rope & lens Rube Goldberg contraption is XII the Hanged Man. (Today’s deck is *The Dark Carnival Tarot* by Rachel Paul. It is a psychedelically demented look at a sort of combo-tribe of gypsies & carnival folk. It is eye-catching, bright & colorful, the art is well-done & chock full of dark humor. It’s a fun deck!) I’m waking into my life today on a Quest, it seems, a Quest for THAT girl. Well, hmmm . . . this is going to have to be reworked, a LOT! A Quest for love I can see . . . not that I’m not happily married, I am, but I have written before about my desire to “do something” to “feed my homosexual” side. That usually means a manhunt, and there are few things to dispirit the human condition as much as looking for a companion you can stand. At my age, entering the 3rd age, 63 this month, I have to take a much more radicalized rout: I have to shut my mouth about it, pump the vibe WAY UP, get out more (I’m a real homebody) and keep my Curiosity as well as my Caution very high, but above all I need to be WILLING TO GET UP ON THAT HORSE AND TAKE THE RIDE. Accept what the Universe joyously gives me with all 8 hands. My perception of this is that it ties me down; it makes me a disciple of XV, the Devil. Well, I certainly hope not, and I will fight until my last erection that mutual physical pleasure is so habit-forming that one must never start. Bullshit. There is NOTHING in the Gods’ Great Cosmos that was more particularly human-intended than the joy of having a really good fuck. Don’t lie to me! Tell me that ain’t true! The Gods love us, and gave us that ability to partake of divinity itself; how we misuse it is our business. So . . . apparently I am on patrol for a hot man, and not only armed, but with the backing of every self-serving desire that has ever resided in my body, but allied with the Devil himself, that slobbering, obese effete. And just as I’m about to lower the zipper of my intended dinner’s pants with my teeth . . . WHACK!! TELEPORTATION! No, you are NOT going to sink into the sink pots of sin and depravity where you so happily swam in young adulthood, Mark, you’re going to take that erection and turn it into an ersatz cross, where that very selfsame energy shall accomplish your sacrifice and set you free. It’s gonna be one of those kind of days, Mark, all your psychic energy in high gear and your pineal with a hard-on and then suddenly wait. . Wait. . And then hurried mad, frenzied effort and then, wait. . wait. . and so on. That’s alright, as long as I’m on my way to XII, where my words, my sentence, my Truth, are finally heard, “I’m SO tired. I just want to rest,” finally for them and finally for me, because if I wake up after my Voyage of the next several Arcana, I will no longer be myself, I will be someone else, transformed by that sacrifice. “I pause. And in that pausing, I see differently.”(app)               


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