I made a tarot drawing on New Year’s Eve 2018 for 2019 for the purpose of creating a mere twelve blog posts for the year.
So it is April already, the cruelest month. The card drawn is The Moon. This card indicates self-imposed boundaries that must be broken with solitary pursuit. So I am starting the month in an undisclosed location confined to quarters.
A voice has haunted me since my earliest memories. It tells me that nothing will be all right until I finish my books. There are twelve of these books. They are the key. I have written many others, half-written, scoped out. There is another three, another four, and another half dozen possibilities. But the initial twelve are the ones this voice wants so badly.
I am not allowed anything of value until I complete them, no relationships, no stability, no happiness, no love, nothing. Even the precious daughter I raised on my own was done at the voice’s instruction, to teach me what joy there might be, to show me possibility and introduce me to dire adversity. Another’s life always matters more than your own.
My work as a contracted employee at the school district also the work of this voice, to give me time and enough stability to do the writing. How I have squandered so much of that time. I must finish these books or my life is meaningless. When I hit my thirties I tried to circumvent the number, cut it down to seven and so started with what will become book 6. I knew it would not fly. Nobody really likes Pre-quels after all. Did Star Wars teach me nothing?
Finishing these stories is all that matters. Nothing else will satisfy me. Nothing. It is the only purpose, my only talent. I can do nothing else of value. So I must finish. I keep getting in my own way. Making excuses. I don’t know why I fear finishing the only thing I have ever felt both passion and compulsion to do. It is paralyzing me. I simply cannot enjoy anything, no trip, no freedom, no living person’s company, until these books are going out in the world.
All the rest my life seems so far out of my control, decisions made so that I could survive but nothing that gave me anything like happiness. So for April, I follow the moon.
The Ides of March
March saw Judgment Reversed. The drawing seemed spot on. I felt trapped in my own sort of misery, going through the motions of life rather than living it. I could not seem to break through even the smallest of barriers. I got a minimal amount of revision done to my book. I overcame one financial obstacle only to have another undo that progress. Frustration was the theme all month.
I worked out faithfully but no weight was lost. I dieted but still pain and exhaustion remained the theme of my existence. I feel a steady intense anger all the time, hormonal probably, but also existential. If I were only less stubborn, I would give up, embrace my heavier, older frame or toss myself into that inevitable abyss. Alas, I can’t stop fighting
Liverpool Results for March
Liverpool kept my spirits up in places of terrible darkness. More and more the bucket item of visiting Anfield for a Liverpool Premier League match moved higher up my list. Watching them play brings me joy like nothing else. There is something in that beautiful game where men from every imaginable background come together for a single purpose. I can’t quite hit on it, but there are answers there in this simple game.
Liverpool 0 Everton 0 this put me in a terrible mood to start the month. Liverpool should have beat Everton handily.
Liverpool 4. Burnley 2 – loved this
Liverpool 3 Bayern München 1 – Champion’s League – HUGE
Liverpool 2. Fulham 1 – less than stellar performance but we’ll take it
Liverpool 2 Tottenham 1 – what a game. Heart still pounding.
Here is hoping that April is better than March.