(Personal transit: Pluto Conjunct Natal Juno/Lilith/Pallas stellium in Aquarius - 1st house)
I think a lot about Sonya Massey. About how she recognized the Devil when she saw him and had no choice but to invite him into her home to try to appease him. Left alone to her own devices (because this is the world we have created and she was doing her best to survive in it), she courageously called him out but tragically paid the price for doing so. Because there is no way to appease the Devil.
Isn't that the central lesson of 2024? That there is no way to appease the Devil. There's no such thing as the lesser of two evils. There's only evil. And when we try to be cute and say we're being strategic when we play the "lesser" evil game, the Devil laughs in our face.
I also think a lot about Senquarius Williams. It haunts me because I heard him being killed in an act that was justified in the name of "public safety". It blows my mind how everyone just went on about their business. This happened in a year when there were two other unhoused men killed by police. But I don't really feel any safer in my neighborhood. Their deaths accomplished nothing. No one was housed. Access to mental health care is still limited. No one gives a damn. As far as we're concerned, they deserved their summary execution.
I really do wish I could let it go. Because what the fuck are we doing? We just killing folks because they're being inconvenient? Is that what we're doing now? Life would be so much easier for me if I continued to believe in the illusion that we can achieve peace through violence. But I see the Devil's face. I simply cannot shake the feeling that one day, our continued existence may be dependent upon our ability to act like he ain't playing in our faces. But I see him. I do. Many of you do too. Sonya Massey fo sho did. We can't act like we don't. And I fear for us because he will not be appeased.
This Solstice season, while the days are short and the nights are long, I have been contemplating the nature of the darkness we find ourselves in. I'm not feeling the warm maternal which bakes cookies for you and tucks you in with thick, soft blankets. Instead, I'm hearing the restless rattling of the chains binding the crazy bitch who is locked in the attic. When I'm outside, I feel the silent screaming in the too warm breeze that blows on my cheek. Sometimes I get a glimpse of her bony fingers when I'm sweeping.
This is the Season of the Chaotic Feminine. And She. Wants. OUT.
It's getting harder to hold Her back. Harder to play the game of appeasing the Devil. Especially since She is his only fear. He knows that when She is set free, he will not be able to stop Her whirlwind from totally demolishing his carefully constructed bullshit. She yearns to be free to clear the decks and initiate a hard reset.
Maybe it's time.
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