translation: MAJA MISKOVIC
You can’t force it. You can’t be forcefully happy. Nor “positive.” Especially now, in the next two to three days, nothing can’t be forced without our true face – if only in the moments of utter privacy – showing up. The waters are murky, the slough is rising. Bitterness is stuck in the gut, the tears are welling up. This is the freedom of tears, freedom to roar and groan, freedom of the lower belly’s voice that whimpers, wails, and screams. This is a howl, not a whisper. This is a tightly wound knot that wants to burst. The knot that wants us to let it go, to get rid of it for good, but no … We are gripping on to it and won’t let it go! Like a stone in our gut, layered up with more stones around our heart, up to our throat. Voicelessness.
This Mars, caged in a tiny brick space, growls and threatens like a Tasmanian devil. The beast is alive with fury ready to demolish, burn down, and mark an end to all – to cut off and down, to severe, to kill. Forcing it. And that’s the only way so that he can live his maimed life within. Mutilation all around, emotional mutilation of the Moon. We are drowning in alcohol these days, poisoning ourselves either literally by pills of figuratively by venomous thoughts, we are burning down the bridges, hurting ourselves and others. We could tame the beast instead. We could show tenderness and vulnerability, an absolute fragility and surrender, in the place of curling up in the fetal position, crying our hearts out. This is puking. This is bulimia as much as anorexia. This is shedding tears even we stop crying. We are overwhelmed and edgy, but if we are attentive and gentle to ourselves, we will be so toward others. But first and foremost, embrace your inner muck. Don’t push back on that knot in your gut. Take it as it is: disgusting and disfigured by the fears. For those aware of this, you don’t even need to read this text. For those who have passed through the sewage and cellars of their own being and soul, you don’t have to read it either. But you did. Those who need to didn’t, because they are bored. They don’t have time for more than 140 characters unless there is cynicism and bitterness. They are now engulfed in evil, as they are compensating for the revenge they wished upon somebody, seeking justice for their primitive and over-controlling needs. They are imagining now their former lovers facing the downhill. “It’s justice,” they say. They heard horrible news and exclaimed, “Yes! There is God!” The Moon descends in Scorpio. The goodness darkens, heavy blanket of bitterness covers the soul. This is an astro-symbol of lynch. A man stones another man. The blood flows. The stone is bloody. The man is dead. The evil is alive. This is the Wall of Tears in Jerusalem and the army around it. This is a clogged up sewage and busy plumbers and hydro engineers. There are many bodies in the rivers, much gunk in the pipes, we lied well and for too long, driven by the primitive urges. This is fear to say you are fine. Fear that you being fine will provoke somebody’s falling apart. This is, actually, an astro-image of the world we live in. An image of your news feed on Facebook. An image of the tabloids. This is forcing in any way possible. Forcing/raping yourself, forcing/raping others. This is also giving up: giving up on rescuing others, on explaining, on fighting the fight for the better world. This is giving up on everything but evil, in which there is a seed of personal responsibility and expectation of love towards yourself and others. That is why this is rooting out the weeds. Cleaning the house and throwing out garbage. This is removing the contacts in your phone. This is a small circle of people who recognize each other, as they found that seed within themselves and keep working on it, alchemically and scorpions like. Because of this work, lead becomes gold and evil becomes love. All is possible, where there is a will, where there is understanding of how important something is. These are the days of responsibility: what and who we are in our core is what we are going to be these days. Let’s try to be gentle to the evil that seeks the touch of love, like an Elephant Man hidden under the heavy garment. When you fall in love with him and let him sit in your lap, the scene from the second photo will happen too.
