August 14th, 2013

Give me enough hope, and I’ll hang myself.

Lou Reed



Two days ago, a life-changing career opportunity culminated with an eruptive Mt. Krakatoa of emails, at first spurting with the subject line, “Editor position,” and, upon peering into the crater, straight up exploding hot, erosive lava all over my face, ruining my not new shoes, with the imminent, “…we’ve decided to go with someone else.”

As the liquid death melted through my bones, I thought, “Now, who’s going to pick up my laundry? The bag is going to sit there forever.”

A resident New Yorker, I’ve grown familiar with rejection. You have to, in this town. On all levels of accountability, loggers are waiting to cut you down and shape you into a piece of contrived furniture. Beats me why I’m still here.

Today, the moon is in late Scorpio, squaring the sun in Leo, signifying the first quarter square. Chris Rock, my favorite astrologer, once noted about the sign, “You’re gonna die fucking.” With Saturn close behind, emotional, governmental, and sexual suppressions are running rampant throughout magma-ridden bloodstreams.

While I lounge in my amorous Brooklyn coffee parlor, the New Yorker reports images from yet another violent bloodbath in Egypt. As a result, the country’s interim vice president has resigned. The New York Times website is down, and they’ve resorted to Facebook posts. Mars, the planet of war, aspects the moon from Cancer; stuff is happening.

Feelings unearthed represent the cycle of the karmic season, as the shadows of Big Brother loom further—no doubt this blog has already been put on a “low alarm” list.

Upon my rejection, I considered writing a suicide note—sans the act of—as a creative exercise, humoring what might come out of my repressed brain. Perceivably, I was supposed to get that job. Now, I wandered in a parallel universe, wondering about the other me, the stronger me that succeeded in things.

Another grand water trine resonates between Jupiter, Chiron, and the nodes. Chiron, the great mentor, travels three steps forward and two steps back, recycling processes. Repeating cycles, slightly altered each time, due to time and experience, add to the great matrix of everything. Chiron is your personal shamanic cycle. In preparation for the full moon, adepts may ask for insight to their cycling during the next six days. We are still amidst powerful themes of letting go, shedding skin, and restructuring the past.

The phrasing, “If at first you don’t succeed…” should be followed by, “fail and fail again,” because that’s what happens until we learn. On last week’s new moon, Chiron linked up to the nodes, and today, Jupiter is our destiny’s new friend, further emphasizing the impact of the grand trine. Look for a practical awareness to develop your personal truths, building upon the deeper meditations of the past month. Mercury squares the moon’s nodes in Virgo. Use this aspect to communicate and perfect your course.

Receiving the rejection letter felt like being left at the altar. “She was supposed to be the one,” I thought, weeping into my pillow.

There’s some part of me, deep within the recesses of cynical crass, that wants to believe everything happens for a reason. I’ve already applied for two more jobs since receiving the letter, but my qualms feel superfluous, at this point.



In the midst of writing this report—before hearing the news, synchronously replacing Rejection with Repressive in the title—Egypt has declared a state of emergency. This deserves our attention.

While we clamor about the barista getting our damn latte wrong, there are countries where tension manifest equates rising death tolls and corrupt regimes allocating power the old fashioned way.

The land surrounding eruptions is the most fertile after the fact. Ideally, untold life will follow unimaginable destruction. If something wants to blow up in your face and dissolve your reality, gladly let it. But, for the love of God, don’t stick your head in a volcano.