Revisiting My Embodiment Era ("Francesca" by Hozier)

Now that we're now finally and truly out of it, I'm taking a brief look at how the Uranus in Taurus transit manifested in my life. For better or worse, astrology is best understood in the rear view. It's hard to properly assess exactly how a transit impact your life until it's over and you can see the full arc of the story. Adam Elenbaas of Nightlight astrology mentioned during his latest video about Uranus in Gemini about how, as it transits through a sign, Uranus tends to amplify the themes of the ruling planet. If we apply this idea to Uranus in Taurus, the areas of life Venus rules over - relationships, beauty, art, finances, pleasure - would've become more prominent. And for some reason, something clicked for me. One of the things I realized early on in the transit through Taurus of how I abandoned a lot of the things I enjoyed.

Our trek through Uranus in Taurus started 8 years ago today, on 15 May 2018. I remember that day, surprisingly enough. Okay, maybe not the full day but I remember what was happening that week. I had recently been promoted to team lead of my section, so I was starting a new period in my career. I had gotten a pretty nice raise, which allowed me to fully become the breadwinner for my family. We unexpectedly became a single income household, so that was also around the time we took my oldest out of daycare because it was an unnecessary expense. In hindsight, a lot was happening and it laid the foundation of where I am today. That amazing raise I got? I make more than twice that amount now. The promotion? It set me up to get the certifications and skills that eventually got me hired at my current employer. COVID didn't affect us as much as other families because we already had a stay-at-home parent. I'm extremely grateful now but I'd be lying if all this change didn't come with a lot of inner turmoil. This transit was moving through my 12th House (House of Self-Undoing) and I definitely went through it. Psychologically, probably one of my darkest periods - and I have plenty of morbid, angsty poetry to prove it. 

Understanding transits at a basic level is pretty simple. You take the planet's significations and cross it with the zodiac sign's characteristics, and you'll have a good idea about what sort of stuff to expect. To narrow it down more or to better understand how it might affect you personally, you look at what House the transit falls in for a specific event/natal chart and add on the House significations. Uranus is the planet of unexpected change, revelations, insights, and revolutions. I gave a basic overview of Taurus themes above. For me, a Gemini rising, this transit fell in my 12th House, which signifies the subconscious mind, intuition, spirituality, isolation, dreams, and hidden enemies. To find out what this transit may have impacted for you, look at your natal chart and find the House the sign, Taurus, falls in.

Here are a few of the big lessons I learned while Uranus tore a path through my 12th House:

• Your value is Intrinsic. 

I think this is especially difficult for Cancer and Libra (and to some extent, Pisces) because those two signs are particularly focused on close relationships. Cancer is focused on family (motherhood in particular) and Libra is often associated with partnerships and marriage. As such, it can be instinctual to yoke your value to what you are for other people. For a couple years, I lost myself. I filled my days with all the things needed to sustain my family and my career and in the process, I dropped a lot of the things I used to love. I stopped reading as much. My spiritual practice had faded to nonexistence. I exercised but not as frequently as I would've liked. Uranus in Aries was go, go, go! And when I had a chance to stop and look in the mirror, I didn't recognize myself. So when I encountered narcissists and other selfish monsters in real life, my assumption was I was the problem. I wasn't providing enough value to them to be worthy of decent treatment. It's taken 8 years but I finally understand - you're always worthy. And how people treat you is more a reflection about how they feel about themselves rather than what you deserve.

• Ground in your own unique vision of Motherhood.

During this transit, I experienced a lot of firsts in motherhood and I also became a mother again, when I had my second child during COVID. As I've written about before, my relationship with my mother when I was growing up left a lot to be desired. It left a lot of insecurities about motherhood - whether I would be a good mom, if I could control my moody nature and quick temper, whether I could raise a family while working a full 40 hours (or more) a week. And, in the throes of postpartum depression, I struggled with believing I could take care of two children when I could barely care for myself. I remember when I got home from the hospital after giving birth. My dad had bought me my favorite takeout meal - Tofu Pad Thai - and while eating it on the couch, I broke down in tears. The only person who noticed was my oldest. He's such a sweet, thoughtful kid and he did the right thing - instead of dealing with it himself, he got my husband, who put away my food and helped me into bed. After that, I had to breathe and take a step back to see the larger picture. Like all things, you must have a vision for the type of parent you want to be - or rather, the type of parent you want your children to remember. This is your anchor - and when you're caught up in the moment, this is what grounds you. I don't want my children to have to cope with an emotionally volatile mother. I've been there....it's not fun. Children need that Taurean energy - solid, dependable, practical, nourishing - in order to grow.

• Treat Yo'self.

I personally describe myself as rather frugal. I've always been money conscious and concerned about financial stability. Being unable to support my family is a big fear of mine, one that has grown with my income. And that probably won't change. What has changed is how I approach it. As it happens, the 12th House is also a place of hidden fears so when Uranus drops in, you may be forced to change how you face those fears. Up until the past few years, I wouldn't spend money on myself. I'd be generous with others (I'm a great gift giver) but it felt selfish and wrong to waste resources on anything as frivolous as my own desires. As I've succeeded in my career this past decade, I've come to see the gradual ascent into affluence as a permission slip from the Universe that it's okay to buy myself a little treat once in a while. Don't buy out the whole bookstore, but a paperback or two (and a coffee to sip while you browse) is okay. Hardcover books with sprayed edges won't break the bank and neither will mid-priced luxury skincare. Order what you want, not the cheapest item on the menu. For a sensory experience, some people get interested in wine or whisky - I started collecting perfumes, among other pretty things. And while I still stash away quite a bit of my paycheck for a rainy day, I've gotten out of the habit of denying myself life's little pleasures. Because you can't take it with you.

• Get out of your head (and into your body). 

I'm coming up on my 5-year Pole-versary in June. It's hard to believe it's been that long - I thought I'd be better at it by now. Objectively, I am - I can do things I couldn't have even conceived of 5 years ago. But I can't do a handstand without pole support. Ballerina is still a flexibility nightmare I dread every class. One side is a bit more wonky than the other and, after injuring my shoulder last year, there are some intermediate moves that have become an unexpected struggle. But I did graduate to the "Advanced" class (and I'm moderately successful, most of the time). I've gotten better at slowing down and flowing with the music during my freestyles. More than once this year, the pole coaches have commented on how strong I am, which is not a word I would've used to describe my physique before I started. After five years, I still love the community and the art form. And I'm happier. Even when I'm not in the mood or it's after work and I'm tired, I never regret going to class. It's become my outlet for all the frustration that builds up from the pandemonium of modern life. For 1 to 2 hours, I'm solely focused on what crazy trick I'm trying to get my body to do. I'm not thinking about work, I'm not worried about politics, I'm not even formulating what I want to write next. I'm just dancing. That's all I need to do. I cannot overstate the value of taking a mental break and indulging in the pure magic of movement. 

• It's the work that's sacred.

My spiritual journey has deepened to the point where I actively call myself a Seeker. It a moniker one of my favorite authors, Mitch Horowitz, has adopted to describe his adventures in occultism and esoterica. Within the witchcraft and occult communities, it's easy to get caught up on the aesthetics and titles. Putting together a pretty altar layout or witchy outfit is the fun part. Being anointed (by yourself or others) as High Priestess is an honor. But these things may be the results, but they're not the goal. No - the magic comes during the meditation session you didn't want to do because you're too busy. It's when a theosophical concept makes sense have reading your 3rd or 4th book about the subject. When you're doing tarot reading for the group commander and your interpretation leads to him opening up about an ordeal he's going through. It's found in every "oh my god....astrology is real" moment. You can't experience these things - the High Strangeness and the synchronistic breadcrumbs - if you don't do them. In the past 8 years, I've learned that telepathy is real (but you need to be on the same wavelength); wishes do come true (but maybe not in the way you expect); and the Universe is always willing to point you in the right direction (if you want to listen). It's the work that's sacred in all crafts. If I had a dime for every writing book I read reiterating "trust the process," I'd have a whole lotta dimes. But that doesn't make it any less true. Do the work, the rest will follow.

• You can do it alone (but you don't have to). 

For a sign ruled by Venus, Taurus is surprisingly independent. This sign is also known to be a hard worker. And Taurus is considered one of the more stubborn zodiac signs. Not a great combination - it's big "I'll do it my-fucking-self" energy, almost to the detriment of Taurus natives. And - as I learned - having that energy ruling over the House governing mental health was a problem. I have a degree in Psychology and for a long time, my approach was I'm able to handle this stuff - depression, anxiety, cyclothymia, disordered eating, etc - by myself. And, for the most part, I was able to handle it myself. Then the dam broke and I was drowning in darkness. It didn't get better until I made the choice to reach out to somebody for help. I think eventually I would've been able to make it through - but it would've taken longer, it would've been harder, and I don't know if I'd be as strong as I am today. One of the key things I learned about myself during COVID is I like being around people. It's one of the big reasons I'm not desperate for a WFH job - I need human interaction for my happiness. I'm not a true introvert, I never have been. And while I can do many things on my own - write, pole, work, cook - it feels better to have people around. People you can trust to pull you out when you start floundering.

• Don't let life kill your voice.

I started out this transit so hopeful and inspired. You can even see it in this blog - I wrote frequently and the whole vibe of what I was conveying shifted. I can barely believe the posts written when I first started this blog in 2011 were written by the same person writing this post today. My voice seemed so strong - and then somewhere around 2020, it just died. There was nothing in the well and it became so hard to create. And what I was able to pull up from the abyss was terrifying. I remember taking my daily constitutional one day in the middle of COVID (when we had rotating in-person weeks). I was 3 or 4 months pregnant and I passed an old military hotel with a metal ladder going up to the roof. I looked up at this building, which I had seen countless times before, and thought, "I should jump." I didn't, of course - and I wish that had been the extent of my intrusive thoughts - but in retrospect, it was pretty tame in comparison to the other stuff going on inside of my head. 

Eventually, after I broke down in front of my OB/GYN during my 6-week postnatal appointment, I started going to therapy. I told my therapist, BW, that when I went through a similar dark spot in college, during my mom's manic episode, I would have this desire to go outside and scream. And she asked, "Why didn't you?" The answer was....it felt silly and childish. And I didn't want to scare anyone if they heard it. I also doubted anyone would care. I silenced myself. A pattern I'm familiar with, from hiding in closets and playing small to not attract unwanted attention. As a rule, I'm very guarded with what I share with others. It's a protective mechanism - my suffering is no one's business but my own. My own burden to bear and so I did. BW's advice was to scream in the car or to sing really loud. It helps, on occasion. Not as much as talking to someone. Or writing. Getting the thoughts out helps better ones flow in. The normal state of my mind is constant chatter, ideas squirming in the white space of my days, as if the words want to leech out of my skin and orifices. It's chaos, but it's my chaos. 

------------------------

I adore this song, from the opening line, all the way to the madrigal chorus at the end. It's about Love, it's about embodiment, it's about indulging in pleasure in spite of the consequences - all of which I felt fitting as a summation of Uranus in Taurus. When you go into an experience which brings you happiness, you don't always know how it will end. Often, the ending is sad. Or even downright tragic, as we'll learn from what happened to Francesca. The accompaniment of this song feels all-consuming and by the end, it envelopes you in a sea of angelic sound. It's beautiful and quintessentially Venusian, in my opinion.

Do you think I'd give up

That this might've shook the love from me

Or that I was on the brink?

How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily?

Now that it's done

There's not one thing that I would change

My life was a storm, since I was born

How could I fear any hurricane?

However, it's never just the song - although it is a masterpiece - but the story behind the song. Y'all know I'm a sucker for a great doomed romance. I present for your consideration the tale of Paulo and Francesca. For those of you who aren't read up on your obscure Italian history, Paulo and Francesca were real people. In a nutshell, Francesca was married to Paulo's brother, Giuseppe, as part of a political alliance. They fell in love and carried on an affair that lasted 10 years, until Giuseppe discovered them in bed and murdered them both. With a sword, which Francesca tried to block, according to some stories. Quite violent, so much blood. The lovers were featured prominently in Dante's Inferno, which is where Hozier draws his inspiration for the lyrics. If you've ever read Inferno, it's essentially Dante Alighieri's Burn Book. In it, he drags dozens of historical Italian figures, not least of which are those who were his critics in life. Paulo and Francesca, obviously, can be found in the third circle of Hell, which is reserved for adulterers. Their fate is to be blown about by tempests, as they were blown about in life by their passions (the metaphors are thick in the Underworld). For eternity, they must fight gusts of wind to find their way back to each other, only to be forced apart again. But hey, at least they get to hold each other for a precious moment. As you can guess, the song is from Paulo's point of view and that's exactly what he's saying. He has no regrets, even though it ended as it did, and if given the chance, he'd do it all over again. And if he could just hold her again for a minute, he'll endure whatever torture the afterlife has in store.

For all that was said

Of where we'd end up at the end of it

When the heart would cease

Ours never knew peace

What good would it be on the far side of things?

Side note - I always hear the first line as "Think I give a hoot?" rather than "Think I'd give up?" I don't know why. It certainly doesn't fit the renaissance-theme of the whole piece. Maybe it's because I'm aggressively Americanized. I prefer the tale of the Hatfields and the McCoys over Romeo & Juliet. I can imagine our storybook lover - we'll call him Paul - telling the story of his true love (Franny) outside his cabin in Appalachia. Is it worth it to experience transcendent love in this lifetime, even if only for a moment, even if it would destroy you? Old Paul (speaking through Hozier's immortal voice) screams an unambivalent "Yes! Always! Every time!" into the foggy, forested mountains. He doesn't give a hoot! He'd do it again in a heartbeat - faster, harder, more fully than he did the first time! Thus spake the doomed lover forevermore. Uff-da, I got carried away again....

Though I know my heart would break

I'll tell them put me back in it

Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I'd go through it again, ah, ah

When I started this post, I was solidly in my Hozier era. Still am, though less so - we've got some Florence thrown in for good measure. I've collected a couple poetry books, I listen to "Too Sweet" frequently (though not on repeat anymore), and I'm letting my hair grow out questionably long (again). We're in fairytale princess/bog witch territory now - that's how long my hair is. It's giving mermaid. Nay, it's giving hauntingly beautiful yet bloodthirsty siren floating of the coast of Sicily, awaiting unsuspecting young sailors whom I plan to lure to their watery doom. My apologies - this post ended up a bit rambling but I think I've said everything I wanted to say. Please enjoy "Francesca" by Hozier. Video below.

"Francesca" Video

----------------------------

I would like to take a moment to honor the life of Gordon White, who died this past Tuesday. Gordon played an early role in my Uranus in Taurus journey. I re-read "The Chaos Protocols"; I bonded with an old friend over being mutual listeners of his podcast, Rune Soup; and I got into the semiannual ritual of listening to his half-year astrology forecasts with Austin Coppock. Even though I started listening to Rune Soup less over the years, especially after Gordon started going down the "plandemic" road, I still looked forward to those forecasts. I'm saddened that there won't be an H2 2026 episode. At least, not one with Gordon's unique spin on things. I may have disagreed with some of his more recent views, but I enjoyed his insights on magical and occult topics. He brought so many people together and provided a space for many Seekers. I will forever hold close to my heart his guidance to "find the others." May your ancestors greet you, Gordon, as you go on to the next great adventure.

In Case You're Wondering...("I'm Doing Fine" by Marino)

 Where has this year gone? Time is weird. It seems like 2025 crawled all the way to the finish line and now 2026 is hurtling us at light speed towards....something. Who knows what. A lot is happening. Work is busy and more draining than usual. Everyone's on edge, including me. I've been fighting cynicism and nihilism, just like the best of 'em. I'm taking a cue from some old friends - the Stoics - and learning how to "love my Fate" through the study of ancient Hellenistic astrology. Yet again allowing the music of the spheres to connect the disjointed phases of my life and trying to find meaning in the chaos without getting too spun up about it. Just working my way through the Wheel of Time. The book series, I mean, not philosophically. There's 14 books in the series so I figure that'll keep my mind busy for a while. And then I'll move on to the Discworld novels or the Stormlight Archive. Probably both. Eventually, both.

If you got inside my head, you'd see

There's no point in going to therapy

'least that's what I tell myself 'cause I don't need

Another purchase added to my monthly fees

Most of my writing has been offline. A lot of journaling, writing exercises, and outlining/world-building. I wanted to talk through my playlist of the year, because this is by far the best year for it. I think I still will, I just need to build up the momentum. I'm in a slump, but not in a slump. Maybe it's more like I'm in a shadow - and the issue isn't that I'm afraid of publicly writing what I think, I just don't think it matters anymore. In a way, that's a more dangerous thought. That's true nihilism. It's not dark and edgy, the things we do are just pointless and don't mean anything to anyone. I suppose that's where existentialism comes in - we create our own meaning for the things we do, we create our own "why." On the best of days, the idea feels empowering to me. On days - or months (or years) - where I'm going through the motions, it feels like it's one more thing to do. 

Am I really fine, or am I just really good at lying?

I don't really know, lately, I've been on autopilot in my mind

Keeps me awake, every single night, I stay up late

I don't know how to sleep whеn I'm overthinking every littlе thing

Going back to the subject of time, I've been ruminating more on its slipperiness. The inconsistency of how our minds perceive it. I work with air-gapped networks and they all run off their own internal time-source. Some are more accurate than others. I don't wear a watch, so I often find myself in situations where I'm relying on computer screens or old-school analogs clocks to check the time. More than once this year, I've seen the time on a clock or a screen, panicked because I thought I was late to my next meeting, only to arrive five minutes early. It's disorienting. More often than not lately, I'm wishing for more time or to slow time down. But, in my experience, the only way to effectively slow time down is to be fully in the moment, like in meditation. Once your mind wanders, time starts flowing again. Only in rare moments have I experienced suspended animation during something I'm enjoying. Even rarer, still, is to experience it in the presence of another person.

Alright, okay, sun keeps coming up each day

See it through my window shades, it's alright

Just passing time, I'll watch it fade, can't do too much anyways

In a small town, hid away, I'm doing fine

I don't remember how I came across this song, only that it's upbeat guitar strumming sucked me in and the lyrics kept me there. It's a relatively short song - not even two minutes - but it encapsulates a bit of what I'm seeing with everyone this year. We're all very compartmentalized. There's this knowledge that something is very wrong but there's a pervasive sense of powerlessness. Jaded is probably the best way to describe it. And everyone - including myself - seems to be so focused on the next thing in front of us. Get a job, go to work, pay that bill, rinse, repeat. So much is happening and yet nothing is happening. I'd say we're all zombies but at least zombies feel hunger. I'm starting to shake myself out of this stupor, though. I want more. So much more. I want more meaning, more action, more passion, more excitement, more joy, more whimsy....more - dare I say it? - Hope. Is this what they meant by it being the Year of the Fire Horse? I feel this collective energy building, like a rocket or a geyser. At any moment, we're all going to blink and land in a whole new reality. The only question is - when?

With that in mind, I'm trying to frame the current doldrums as a period of rest. The calm before the shift. Alright, okay, Sun keeps coming up each day. I'm doing fine. I'm still alive, so I'm doing fine.

"I'm Doing Fine" Video

--------------------------------

I wanted to do a few mentions of things I'm loving right now. To keep myself from listening to news podcasts (which is not at all good for my mental health), I'm listening to more audiobooks. I like biographies, especially when they are read by the author. Recently, I finished listening to "The Vegas Diaries" by Holly Madison. It's quite fun and almost like listening to the "Girls Next Level" podcast. While some of her wording choices felt a bit trite and many of the metaphors predictable, I like her approachable writing style. It feels like she's telling her story to a friend rather than a flat retelling of events that occurred at the time. It's also 2010s nostalgic for me, in a good way.

I also just finished binging "Something Very Bad is Going to Happen" on Netflix. I'm torn between thinking that's a terrible name for a show or if it was a perfect name for what I watched. The show is atmospheric, had beautiful cinematography, amazing pacing, great acting, all the works. Camila Morrone looks fucking gorgeous in like every frame she's in, even when she's covered in blood (sorry, spoilers). It was heavy on the jump scares, which I don't like - but the benefit of watching on Netflix is that you can walk away or hide your face from the screen for a few seconds without the judgement. For me, once I understood where the plot was going, I could kind of predict the end but I think that's more because I was watching from a horror writer's perspective and knew that the story had to end that way (otherwise it doesn't work). Therefore, from my perspective, perfect storytelling, no notes. Because I like spoilers, I tend to read the synopsis/summary of the episodes on Netflix so I know what to expect - for the last episode, it simply says, "Something very bad happens." Very clever, Netflix. Ya got me, I loved it. So yeah - if you love horror (especially the supernatural kind), go watch it. 

Hypernormalisation ("The Suburbs" by Arcade Fire)

This was one of the songs I picked early on for my 2025 playlist. I'm not sure why, but it felt like it fit, and as the year dragged on, it became even more apt to describe the current American landscape. I don't think I've ever featured it...I think I've maybe written on a cover, but never the original. But it seems to strike the right note of...what's the word? Nostalgia? Sort of. Melancholy? A bit. Disillusionment? Bingo.

You always seemed so sure

That one day we'd be fighting

In a suburban war

Your part of town against mine

I saw you standing on the opposite shore

But by the time the first bombs fell

We were already bored

We were already, already bored

Life in 2025 was....weird. And yet, it was also strangely mundane. The images in the news and the descriptions of current events on podcasts were far removed from the everyday happenings of my perfectly curated community. The disparity was - and is - unsettling. Intellectually, I know these things are happening. I know there was a ridiculous (and extralegal) black ops-style raid on an apartment building in Chicago, where children were separated from the parents and zip-tied in the freezing cold. I know people are being kidnapped off the street, outside of churches and schools. Indiscriminately. To include US citizens. I know millions of people are going to be unable to afford health insurance next year. I know there was a totally pointless 43-day government shutdown. I know there's disturbing images and documents being released from the Epstein investigation, the implications of which are stomach-turning. And yet, despite the fragility of current circumstances, it feels as if we're just going to continue on forever in this Black Mirror version of reality. 

Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling
Sometimes I can't believe it
I'm movin' past the feeling again

The term hypernormalisation was created by Alexei Yurchak to describe what life was like in the Soviet Union in the decade prior to the collapse. Everyone knew the system was failing but they couldn't imagine a society different from the one they had - they couldn't dream of a different alternative - so everyone just pretended everything was working as it should. Blatant corruption and abject poverty became the norm, and people just accepted it. This is a common reaction - in 1930s Germany, during the rise of Nazism, things didn't change much in the beginning. In his book, "They Thought They Were Free," Milton Sanford Mayer describes how incremental changes caught non-Nazi Germans unaware. A law here, a speech there - it was all very subtle. Until it wasn't. The idea - more like a naive hope - that ignoring a problem makes it go away is enticing. It requires a lot less work and individual courage. In reality, it just allows the problem to become more insidious. Mostly because at some point, they try to paint these ideas as reasonable. It's all semantics and window dressing. They twist definitions and make unrelated things synonymous. They co-opt pop culture and previously noble policy crusades for their own purposes. I don't think anyone would disagree with making America healthy again but when a distinguished cardiologist who made his fortune off peddling contemporary snake oil (Dr. Oz) tells the working class to throw out centuries of medical progress, that's just another grift. 

Kids wanna be so hard

But in my dreams we're still screamin' and runnin' through the yard

And all of the walls that they built in the seventies finally fall

And all of the houses they built in the seventies finally fall

Meant nothin' at all

Meant nothin' at all

It meant nothin

At the tail end of 2024, I listened to the audiobook of "Conspirituality: How New Age Conspiracy Theories Became a Health Threat." There's been this notable progression of really famous pagan and New Age spiritualists becoming born-again Christians. One of the most famous in recent history is Doreen Virtue, who made her fortune off creating tarot and oracle card decks, as well as dozens of books on New Age subjects. In 2017, she declared her previous New Age beliefs were "demonic" and started marketing herself as a fundamentalist Christian. Coincidentally (or maybe not), this was around the time that pagan practices and witchcraft/occult books became extremely popular and common (i.e., more competition in the market). "Conspirituality" explains how the COVID epidemic resulted in a lot of historically more liberal communities (like yoga, New Age, and alternative medicine) taking a hard right turn in recent years. Having floated in these spaces since the home computer became a thing, I've always noticed it but it never alarmed me as much as it has in recent years. Mostly because it doesn't make sense from my perspective. There is a difference between choosing to believe and participating in a belief system, and then there's throwing out critical thinking entirely. I'm not sure everyone knows where that line is. And I think, as a rule, we expect others we run into within the witchcraft/pagan community to be a little weird (in a good way) and, in an attempt to be welcoming and inclusive, we don't always notice when maybe the weirdness comes from someplace unhealthy.

Sometimes I can't believe it

I'm movin' past the feeling

Sometimes I can't believe it

I'm movin' past the feeling and into the night

There's one last disturbing trend I'd like to call attention to and I'll leave 2025 willingly. Trad wives. And it's not the aesthetic - the aesthetic is quite lovely, which is why it's so popular. It's the malignant undercurrent of misogyny fueling it. And even more infuriating - it's a lie! When you look at the most popular "trad wife" accounts, like Ballerina Farms or Nara Smith, these women are working mothers and (in many cases) the breadwinners for their family. The only difference between them and myself is they have a camera rolling while they do their chores (and they can hire a nanny to mind the children while they cook dinner from scratch). So, we have wealthy, Ivy-league educated business-women telling less privileged young girls to forego an education and a career while they themselves are building up their own safety net. And what naturally follows is a parade of articles of divorced single mothers in their late 30s saying they were wrong about the "trad wife life." It is just the most disgusting scam I've ever seen. I appreciate stay-at-home parents - my own career success has been possible due to having a stay-at-home parent - but this is not what these women are. They cosplay a cottage-core fantasy and peddle nonsense about feminine virtue and living a "soft life" while raking in millions from women who will never attain the level of financial freedom needed to acquire a homestead of their own. They are grifters, they are con-men, just like everyone else on TV.

So can you understand

Why I want a daughter while I'm still young?

I wanna hold her hand

And show her some beauty

Before all this damage is done

But if it's too much to ask, if it's too much to ask

Then send me a son

"The Suburbs" came out in 2010 but I had never seen the music video until this year. The music video, which I thought was disturbing 2025, was probably even more so back then. The music video is made up of clips from the Spike Jonze short film inspired by the album, "Scenes from the Suburbs." The central focus is on a group of teenagers, having fun and doing normal teenager shenanigans. Then, the narrative pulls back and we realize they are in the middle of said suburban war. People are being taken from their homes in the middle of the night, there's gunfire and men in uniform around every corner, a barrier with barbed wire divides the neighborhood. In one scene, Black Hawk helicopter hovers over the city. And these kids are just....living through it. Until one of them is forced into the ranks of the soldiers. It ends with him beating up his friend for some reason. It's a metaphor for the angst of having to grow up....I think. I'm going to be honest - some of the images in this film from 15 years ago feel all to real now.

In my dreams we're still screamin'

We're still screamin'

We're still screamin'

None of this is normal. 

"The Suburbs" Music Video

Press Pause ("Dying Star" by Ashnikko, feat. Ethel Cain)

This year has been exhausting but this last month has taken it to a new level. I've been going through the past several weeks - months - like a zombie, soul-weary and tired. I'm grateful this year is over, not because I think next year will better (on a grand scale, I don't think it will be), but because it means I've survived it. I realize not everyone can say the same. Here at the end of 2025, I'm treading water among the wreckage. I found a door to float on but the turbulence beneath the waves threatens to pull me under. One wrong move and I'm out to sea. I'm taking time off for the next couple weeks. I'm ready for a long-awaited breath of air, where my mind is not fixed on the government or everything everyone is demanding of me from day-to-day. Centered only on what matters. One breath in, one breath out. 

The ground reaches out to catch me

Softly in her baseball mitt

I'm tired of the dirt and grit

I want something soft

I'm a fish in a bucket, thrashing

He tried to take me out, hooks in my mouth

Listen to me when I say ouch

I want something soft

I had a lot of good intentions to write this year, but the clock started and I found myself leeched of creativity. And yet, there were moments....moments when the words flowed and I could hear my characters speaking to me. Or moments when an essay started to form. Maybe only snippets, but they were alive. Their pulse beating in my veins, whispering in my brain. Write it down, Jessica. It doesn't have to mean anything but, damn it, write it down. But I was gripped with this fear. Fear that my words may ruin me. May endanger my loved ones. May be misinterpreted by those who want to misinterpret. As the year pressed on, though, the real fear presented itself. No one cares. No one cares what I shout into the void. We are in a unique, blissfully nihilistic time right now. And I still care way too much. And worse, I want others to care more about me and my hopes and dreams than they do. The real fear is I'm merely another product - another transaction - and, despite my best efforts, I'm a boring one. And even if I write some totally outrageous nonsense, who cares? I am nothing and no one. The words I write are beautifully meaningless and for myself alone. And perhaps there is freedom in that.

Oh, to be an existentialist during such an era! To be reminded daily that I am both predictable and replicable is almost to much to bear. I am painfully aware I haven't written here as much as I've wanted. Every few weeks or so, I'll check my stats on this blog knowing they should be in the gutter because I haven't posted anything new in months, and yet there's a spike every few days of thousands upon thousands of views. That's it. There it is. The machines are stealing my words. And I have nothing to show for it, because bots don't click ads (unless you tell them to). A voice cultivated over 30+ years of writing (and life) experience, able to be replicated in seconds. Is this what it feels like? To slowly lose your soul? My sentences, my expressions, my clever turns of phrase sprinkled about hundreds of plagiarized articles and essays. You can imagine how demotivating this can be. More often than not, instead of writing, I've found myself doomscrolling, despite my best efforts not to be on Instagram so much. Every once in a while, I'll stumble across a reel telling me I shouldn't be on there. That I should be reading or writing or studying or doing anything more brilliant than staring at a screen. Like Brené Brown recounting what the People in Charge talk about when they think we drones aren't listening. That they are creating a class of Consumers, while they work towards being known as Philosophers. As a ruling echelon of Thinkers. And I will break out of my stupor, screaming, "No!" No. I am one of the Thinkers. Repeat after me. I am one of the Thinkers. And I have better things to do.

Needless to say, one of my New Years resolutions is deleting Instagram and Bluesky from my phone. And deleting my Facebook, which I haven't really used in a decade and am holding onto for no reason.

So I give in to the fall, fall, fall (it's cold out here)

I need somethin' soft, down feathers over rocks

I died and I land with both of my hands

In the mud, the mud

It felt like a god, how she held me

I slept on her shoulder, I gave her my all (Is there anyone?)

I bathed in her waterfalls

And continued to fall, fall (I'm entering the exosphere)

Astrology, at its core, is a meaning-making system. Like the alchemists and ancient Hellenistic philosophers who came before me, I embrace astrology as a lens through which I choose to view the world and my place in it. We cannot change the stars. We cannot change the moment that we are in. All we can control is how we navigate the cosmic storms. Not that I needed to tell you, but we are in a transitional time. A lot of big movements are happening. As noted before, Pluto is fully going into Aquarius - we're not going back to Capricorn again, we are done with that for another 250 years. We are finishing the last weeks of Neptune in Pisces and we'll be done with that for another 165 years. And Uranus in it's final retrograde through the last degrees of Taurus and we'll be done with that for another 84 years. You and I, my friend, will never see these transits again. So whatever change or turbulence they brought to your life, whatever area of your chart was transformed by those years, it's over. As such, a retrospective is in order.

Uranus is making its last pass through Taurus, which started in May 2018. Back then, in my naivete, I thought I knew what this transit would bring into my life. Boy, was I wrong! My life is completely different from how it was back then. I'm in a different part of my career - I'm at a different company, in a different state, with the triple the salary I was making 7-8 years ago. I earned like 6 Cybersecurity certifications. I bought the house I wanted for my forever home, I bought my first car, and I had a whole other child during that time. And I lived through a pandemic (which, if you're reading this, so did you). My entire mental foundation shifted, which I should've been able to predict considering Uranus was transiting by 12th House. I went through the worst depressive bout I've had during my life, which led to me completely restructuring how I approached my mental health and self-worth. I got back into my habit of reading and started a new hobby I will obsess over until my body gives out (pole dance). And more than ever, I've leaned into my spiritual beliefs. I've learned how to "say it with my chest." I'm much more open about my personal practices and beliefs than I used to be. Uranus is the planet of revolution and revelation. Indeed, that is what it has brought me. Every day, I'm realizing that the most rebellious things one can do in this world is rest, read, and create. As such, I'm actively learning to make time for those things, which isn't easy in the best conditions and is getting harder by design. If you know, you know. 

The forest reaches out to guide me

Blue fire paths of will-o-wisps

Illuminate the darkness's old tricks

I'm nobody's captive (mm-mm)

I asked him not to kill me politely

He drained my magic core, bottled up at the source

I washed up on a sea glass shores

I'm nobody's captive (mm-mm)

The changes and shifts will continue, and maybe even accelerate, as Uranus moves into my 1st House. I can see the possibilities already, in the short time the transit was in play this year. Everything could change, all aspects of my life, but mostly, it will likely change my perspective. How I move through my life, how I perceive the world. Chani probably said it best in her recommendation for Gemini and Virgo Risings - Be the Chaos you wish to see in the world. Challenge accepted. 

Burnin' like a dyin' star

Invasive weeds rooted in my heart

Set in a crooked trajectory

The journey here was hard

I was almost pulled apart

Tryna leave this orbit, took what's left of me

Ashnikko and Ethel Cain were two of my top artists this year. This song, in particular, found me at a time early in the year when I felt especially hopeless. It is a song about finding a place of rest after experiencing a period of turbulence. Specifically, it's about leaving an abusive relationship. It can translate to other situations, though - leaving a soul-sucking job, ending a one-sided friendship, just getting through a rough period in general. In the verses, Ashnikko recounts how she gave her all to a relationship, only to be drained of the essence which made her special, which filled her soul. This is one of the reasons it's hard to leave an abusive situation. It takes and takes and takes, until your sense of self worth is destroyed. And often, it feels like the only way to get it back is to get attention from the person (or situation) that took it. That's why we see these cycles and internal debates between leaving vs staying or leaving and then going back. To break the cycle, it requires a drastic refocus away from that person or situation. It requires a re-centering yourself. The shift is brutal and disorienting - it takes everything you have to pull your energy away. This is where we meet the artist on her journey. The waterfalls she bathes in are her own, she found the softness she needed in herself. Both Ashnikko and Ethel Cain have distinct vocals. Cain has this more ethereal lilt whereas Ashnikko has a more gravelly, raw quality. Together, they create this celestial, atmospheric blend, which complements the metaphors and imagery within the lyrics so well. I hope you enjoy it, I hope it brings you the same peace I feel every time I listen to it.

"Dying Star" Video

Fantasies and Frivolities ("Crush" by Ethel Cain)

I have a lot on my mind. It seems the theme of this year has been chaos, which is unfortunate because my words for the year were supposed to be "creation" and "transformation." I don't feel like getting into politics now - we all know we've got a front row seat to the shitshow. And while there's a lot I could say, I'm pretty sure a lot of it has already been said and it's falling on deaf ears. I can scream into the void with the best of them, but why waste the energy. Especially when this blog is supposed to be about music and - by extension - the emotions and memories and associations it stirs up from the abyss of my subconscious. So instead, I'm going to tell you about the songs (and other things) getting me through these shenanigans. Thanks for joining me on the ride.

His window's already passed, so he's shooting at the glass

Keeping guns in his locker, and he denies it

Like it's actually important, but he lied 'cause I sure did watch him

Showing up wearing black, and he knows that

Like much of my favorite music nowadays, I discovered Ethel Cain via an Instagram scroll. I follow a lot of miniaturists and there's this one miniaturist in particular that does a lot of Southern Gothic and horror inspired artwork. She was showing off this miniature church sign she made. The white paint was faded and nicked, the back papered with Missing posters, and the message in block letters proclaiming, "God Loves You, But Not Enough to Save You." I think about those words more often than I care to admit. The song featured on the post was "Sun-Bleached Flies" by Ethel Cain, which is where the the lyric comes from. It hints at disillusionment, with God, with love, with life. The artist (@southerngothicdollhouse on IG) sells a kit for people to make a similar sign themselves. I kind of want to buy it but it's $150 and I don't think I can justify it. To be clear, she provides all the pieces including the paints, so there's value in it - I'm not saying it's not worth the money. But I have a quarter-finished book nook that's calling my name and I really need to learn how to finish the things I start before buying more hobby paraphernalia. 

His daddy's on death row, but he'll say it with his chest, though

His friends move dope, he hasn't tried coke

But he's always had a problem saying no

His older brother bagged the valedictorian

His mother, steady, screaming he should be more like him

Anyway, back to this Ethel Cain song - another slow burn obsession for me, it's been popping up in pole class and it's an easy go-to for freestyling at home. Ethel Cain's music reminds me a lot of the early-mid 90s shoegaze-type rock. Dreamy, experimental, a little grungy, beautiful nigh haunting vocals. Honestly, it's the kind of vibe I prefer to bring to the table - to pole class or to work....or to really anywhere. I've heard of Ethel Cain's music being grouped in with country and, I'll admit, there is a Southern Gothic tint to her aesthetic. However, listening to the lyrics, it conjures up the imagery of being in a small Midwest town. Where you know everyone in your senior class because there's barely enough teenagers around to justify a high school. The crush in question is probably not the best guy to be running around with. Hides guns in his locker, wears all black, has stoner friends. I was a teenager during the early 2000s - I'm no stranger to being intrigued by the weird, quiet Goth kid. But I know being the weird Goth kid in a rural town somewhere in the Bible Belt carries a heavier weight than where I went to high school. 

Can you read my mind? I've been watching you

(You know it, you know it, you know it's true)

Couldn't fight to save your life, but you look so cool

Camo' jacket, robbing corner stores

Hard odds to beat when you're on all fours

Good men die too, oh, I'd rather be with you, you, you

I've added "Crush" to my Unskippables playlist....I'm past the obsessive listening phase, which usually ends in wanting to not hear a song again for at least a couple of months. I could listen this basically any time now. The point of "The Unskippables" is that they're songs I keep coming back to, that I love hearing over and over and over. Songs I'd put in every playlist, if I didn't have any self respect or mix tape skillz. I've been trying to pinpoint why certain songs capture my devotion and the closest explanation I've gotten to is that they elicit a particular emotion in me. A vision, a place in time, a story that I have playing in my brain. For "Iris," I am both the singer and the person being sung about. With "Desert Song," I am lost in the torment of both my deepest hopes and darkest fears. And with "Crush," I'm taken back to being a boy-crazy teenaged girl, who had a thing for weirdos and nerds and outcasts...

I owe you a black eye and two kisses

Tell me when you wanna come and get 'em

I only want him if he says it first to me

I wanna, uh, him in the back of his mom's Mercury

He looks like he works with his hands, and smells like Marlboro Reds

It makes me so, uh, and I can't get enough of it

I remember those times vividly - having a crush was fun. The adrenaline of running into them unexpectedly in the hallway. Spying them out in the wild, hanging out in their natural habitat (the mall). Or praying very loudly in your head not to be paired with them for a class assignment and then, of course, being paired up with them because God needed some entertainment that week. This has happened to me - multiple times. One of several real-world reasons why I think there's something to manifestation. There's this theory in manifestation circles that the Universe doesn't interpret negatives, so if you're praying for something not to happen, it will happen because you're still thinking about it happening. Don't think too hard about that, you'll get paranoid. Anyway, the B-plot in a story/series I'm writing is somewhat of a love story. The characters are younger - not teenaged, because that's over-done, but pre-to-mid Saturn Return - so I'm trying to put myself in that mindset. The intrigue, the hopefulness of meeting a person who you intensely vibe with and looking forward to the possibility of seeing them randomly (or not so randomly) during the course of your day. Does it end badly? It might. Statistically, it probably will - but it'll be an adventure.

Low slung bad bitch, baby, come and get you some

I haven't written here in a bit. Pushing this out into the void, as a sort of kick in the pants. Work is draining, it's hard to find motivation or will to write but the thoughts are still there. Besides, these little "my favorite thing right now" posts are easy, even if they're mostly fluff. Have a good week, dear reader.

Crush - Official Music Video

A PSA about Pluto in Aquarius ("Session" by Linkin Park)

I started writing this at the beginning of the year, inspired by a Star Trek episode that takes place in the year 2024 (a synopsis follows). In the Star Trek universe, 2024 marks a particularly momentous point in mankind's history. Now when I first started writing this blog post, I had no idea how fitting that was going to be. I only knew that it contained a lot of tense, transitional astrological energy and that was enough to mark it as an interesting point in time. The latter half of the 2020's is supposedly where all the fireworks are set to happen but 2024 in itself had a certain weird-ness about it. Pluto was in Aquarius this year, but not quite; Saturn and Neptune were conjunct by sign the whole year; Mars is in retrograde and it will retrograde back into multiple signs; and to top it off, this was the last year that Uranus was fully going to be in Taurus. 2025 marks Uranus transit into Gemini in over 80 years and (not surprisingly) it initiates the Uranus return for the United States. You may hear the term "fourth turning" a lot and our Uranus returns have previously occurred during the Civil War and World War II - two points in American history that have shaped the sort of nation we've become. (This is what we call foreshadowing....)

 

Moving onto the inspiration for this post. The episode I mentioned takes place during the "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine" series and it's a 2-part episode named "Past Tense." In the episode, Captain Sisko, Bashir, and Jadzia Dax are transported back to San Francisco in the year 2024, during what has become known as a critical moment in Earth's history. The United States is in the midst of intense breakdown of socioeconomics. The lower classes - those who cannot afford housing, food, medical care, and those who are mentally ill or disabled - have been funneled into huge camps called "Sanctuary Districts." These are much like the "Hoover Towns" of the 1930s, but they're also heavily policed to keep the masses in them. This is where Bashir and Sisko end up, because the person who found them (a cop) decided that's where they belong. For reference, both Bashir and Sisko are obvious racial minorities. Jadzia, on the other hand, is found by a wealthy businessman, who proceeds to take care of her because - I don't know - she's a pretty white woman? That seems to be the most obvious reason. From her standpoint on the outside, she can fully grasp the horrors of the Sanctuary District and how morally wrong it is. Long story short, there is a riot and a hostage situation that eventually leads to the public's attitude and handling of the disadvantaged starts to change. It's arguably one of the best Star Trek episodes to date, but I would also say it's one of the most prescient. Where we are in history is not too different than where that episode predicted we would be. Now, I cannot tell you why the writers picked the year 2024 for the backdrop. What I can tell you is that science fiction writers - whether they're writing novels or TV shows - have an almost mystical ability to look at the society they are currently living in and extrapolate the most disturbing, extreme, horrific outcomes of that trajectory. Ideally, we shouldn't be trying to replicate it (I'm lookin' at you, OpenAI). The reason why Star Trek remains so popular is that it depicts the best possible outcome of our current trajectory - that we get through these difficult times and eventually become a more equitable and forward-thinking society. Although, as the episode seems to imply, we may need some wayward time travelers to help us out. 

As I've mentioned in past writings, I've been on my own little manifestation journey. But - being me - the part I've enjoyed most is falling down the rabbit hole. Quantum mechanics. Simulation Theory. Glitches in the Matrix. If 2024 has taught me anything, it is simply this - the reality I'm experiencing is not the same as the reality you're experiencing. And I wish I could understand that better, on every level - physical, psychological, philosophical, biomechanical - in any possible way. Even so, I have this gut feeling that what we want for ourselves, our families, our nation, our future....is not as different as others would have us believe. Aquarius is very much about the outside perspective. When we are in it - like deep in the thick of the situation - we can't see clearly how to get out or even how everything fits together, sometimes. I'm making choice to believe 2024 is a turning point in our history and that we'll get through it. Things will get better but that's dependent on our approach to the challenges we face. I'm taking to heart something I heard Greg and Dana Newkirk talking about on their "Haunted Objects Podcast" (I get my wisdom from some very weird places) and embracing curiosity over fear. Curiosity often leads you to knowledge whereas fear generally only leads to more fear.

After listening to an Astrology Podcast episode about music styles and Saturn transits, I've been trying to thing more deeply about how outer planet transits shape the musical landscape of longer eras. During Pluto in Capricorn, I noticed a growing popularity of modern songs being covered in styles from bygone eras, like Postmodern Jukebox or the cover of "Low" by Flo-rida that sounds like elevator music. Some of the most popular songs over the past decade were strongly influenced by past genres - I'm thinking specifically of Mark Ronson's "Uptown Funk (feat. Bruno Mars)," which sounded like it could've come straight out of the 60s. I firmly believe that during Pluto in Aquarius, we're going to see this trend reversed - old songs being revived with New Age beats, strong techno and synthesized sounds intermingled with classical instruments. Like Mozart and Beethoven if they were covered by Daft Punk or mixed by Marshmello. Some really great examples of this would be the music composed for Eve Online by Steve Jablonsky and the "The Dance of Two Wolves" from "John Wick 3: Parabellum" which I absolutely fell in love with when I saw the movie. Pluto in Aquarius in the 21st Century is the rise of the Cyberpunk Era and it could go one of two ways - bright, upbeat dance pop or a return to heavy goth darkwave. In all honesty, it'll probably be both. I've already seen the resurgence of both in popular culture and - surprise! - everyone is a little into both. Cheerleader Goth is a thing and there are dozens of us! Since "Barbie" started advertising, we're all into Bimbocore, we're all embracing our existential dread, and we're leaning into the absurdism of the moment. I love that for us!

 

Of course, being ruled by Saturn, Aquarian themes can also be quite nostalgic. Like listening to old favorites from our childhood. Of course, my formative years took place during the late 90s and early 2000s - a fantastic time for music, in my humble opinion. This particular song reminds me of a performance my older sister did outside the Landmark Cafe in our hometown. She did a  ballet-style dance en pointe but the music was Linkin Park. It hit that perfect balance of classical mixed with futurism, which I believe will be a hallmark of the next couple decades.

"Session" Video

 

Rising in Chaos ("Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?" by Taylor Swift)

It's that time of year again.... I know I haven't written in a while but I couldn't miss T-Swift's birthday. I wish I could say I've been working on other things but the truth is this year has been a whirlwind and I got caught up in the swirl. Even now, I'm at home because I had over 60 hours of PTO left when I returned from Argentina and I need to burn it because it's use it or lose it. The last two years, my company did a payout but, when you hire a bunch of workaholic engineers, that gets expensive. Oh yeah...I went to Argentina over Thanksgiving. It was great - Buenos Aires definitely grows on you and I'd like to go back when we have more free time to explore.  The city has a rich history, amazing coffee, and is super walk-able, at least in the area where we stayed. 

  … So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street
Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream
"Who's afraid of little old me?"
You should be

Alright, back to Taylor. I actually didn't get into The Tortured Poets Department when it came out - as I've mentioned in the past, I prefer to discover songs when it's the "right" time for me to find them, even when it comes to my favorite artists. I go through cycles - even with My Chemical Romance and Florence Welch, I'll often hear a song once when an album comes out and then suddenly become obsessed with it years later, when it hits the perfect emotional chord and reflects exactly what I'm going through at that specific moment in my life. As you may have guessed from the title of this post, I'm very much feeling "Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?" right now. (Un)Coincidentally, I've adopted it as my vibe for 2025. And let me tell you a little bit about what we're heading into - I'm making an educated guess it is going to be even crazier next year. Surprisingly, I'm feeling really jazzed up about it. Honestly, it feels very much like the excited feeling I had during the lead up to 2020.....and we all know how that ended up. However, I don't think this is a false high. I'm going into next year with my eyes wide open. I'm aware the astrology for next year is fucking wild - but that doesn't mean it has to bad on a personal level. There's a lot of exciting things going on right now - I'll cover those in more depth in another post (that I've been tinkering with for the better part of a year). I will say this - this song is exactly the tone to strike as we head into an extended period of Mars Retrograde for the rest of the year and the first quarter of 2025.

I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean
"Don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth"
Who's afraid of little old me?
Well, you should be

A small part of the retrograde (approximately 6 degrees) will be in Leo but the vast majority of the time, Mars will be hanging out in the later degrees of Cancer. This is not Mars at its best - arguably, this is Mars at its worst, because Mars is in its Fall while in the sign of Cancer. What does that mean? Well, it's Cancer - it's moody, it holds grudges, it's passive aggressive....it's a bit unstable. When you add Mars to the mix - the planet of War, violence, anger, aggression, passion, sex, etc - things can get a little chaotic. The outlook can become quite dark and pessimistic and vengeful. And I say this as a native Mars in Cancer (at the anaretic degree!). I will be the first to admit I am not fun to be around when I'm angry. I've been told I'm downright scary, which is the overwhelming contradiction of the Cancerian nature. From far away, they look sweet, gentle, nurturing, maybe even meek....but you don't want to fuck with them. Because Cancer is a sign of extremes - they can be the nicest person you've ever met until you piss them off. Particularly when it comes to Mars in Cancer, there's a tendency towards over-reaction and often it will seem to come out of nowhere because - like their symbol, the Crab - Cancerians will come at you sideways. The approach is indirect and thus, hard to predict. Much like Scorpio, they have a talent for patiently waiting until the opportune moment to strike and they won't hold back. And of course, it's Cancer - if you come for their family, you're fucked. We saw this earlier in the year, during the rap battle between Mars in Cancer native, Kendrick Lamar, and Drake. 

 … Is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one more joke
Then we could all just laugh until I cry

As I've mentioned previously, Taylor Swift has some strong placements in Cancer, most notably her Moon, but also Jupiter (which is exalted in Cancer) and Chiron. Swift has cultivated this whole persona of being kind to her fans, effortlessly poetic in her art, and dreamily soft and sweet in her aesthetic -  but in order to survive in the music business, she's become notably ruthless within the industry. She is one of the most litigious artists when it comes to copyright (example: famously trying to copyright the phrase "this sick beat"), she made history by earning back the rights to her repertoire by simply re-recording the songs she released under her previous record label (and made even more money on those recordings), and is known for writing and releasing songs about her easily identifiable exes (which usually results in a unyielding public backlash for those unfortunate men). She is nought to be trifled with. She is an icon and possibly the most formidable female artists we will see in our lifetime. True, some of those aforementioned legal battles could be characterized as unethical. After all, Swift is a billionaire and there's an argument to be made that billionaires cannot exist without exploitation. I assure you - this isn't the post to make that argument, just something to let roll around in your head. That's the whole message of this song - the sweet girl she was when she started making music would not, could not survive the music industry. In fact, that wholesome naivete was swiftly killed the moment she got an iota of mainstream success (pun intended). If she's terrible, it's because she has to be. It's no secret that young women in the music (and film) business are often taken advantage of and exploited to the utmost. Some of those horror stories - featuring prominent artists, musicians, and actors - are just barely coming to the surface now. There's a reason why the idea of a Villain Era resonates so strongly right now - villains aren't created in a vacuum. And more often than not, the context of a villain origin story is rooted in exploitation and degradation at the hands of those with more power and influence. Can you really condemn a person if their environment gave them no other choice? Just one of the many philosophical conundrums we have awaiting for us as we start our journey through Pluto in Aquarius. 

… I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me
You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me
So all you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs
I'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said?
That I'll sue you if you step on my lawn
That I'm fearsome and I'm wretched and I'm wrong
Put narcotics into all of my songs
And that's why you're still singing along

Real talk though - this year left me exhausted. As usual, it is (at least) partially my fault. I give way too much of myself, especially to my work, expecting that I'll be rewarded (or, at bare minimum, appreciated). And I'm not going to say that hasn't worked out for me - I got a promotion and two raises this year - but at what cost? When I went to Argentina, I had to leave my work phone at home. I was literally unreachable for the week and I could focus on enjoying the experience and participate fully in my sister's wedding. When I got back, I actually felt rejuvenated....and then two days into my first week back at work, I was burnt out again. Clearly I'm doing something wrong - I'm caring too much, I'm taking on too much responsibility, I'm trying to make progress when faced with incompetent peers. I enjoy my work but I'm realizing my personal goals for this past year took a back seat to "getting the mission done." Don't get me wrong - the mission is important. It always will be. But I'm tired of living that way. I want to find a new path forward. I have no more fucks to give, and I can't renew my reserve of fucks if I'm not taking the time to generate them. Does that make sense? Doesn't matter. I have a lot of ideas for what I want to do in 2025 but my main challenge for next year is making the space for them to become reality. 

"Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?" Official Lyric Video