Ever since Mercury went retrograde in Cancer in my 11th house – the house of social interaction and things like finding one’s place in the community – I’ve become more and more aware of my blogging stats.
It’s odd for me, yet not odd for me.
Basically this transit hits a sore spot which causes all the contradictions within me to flare up.
I care about what others think, yet don’t care what others think. I want to please others, yet I also want to please myself… and those two things, for me, always seem to be at odds. Why? Well, I don’t know… ask the others. NO! Don’t, they’ll just talk too much about what my problem is, and distract you from the fact that they’re as fucked up as I am… maybe more so, because I am aware what a fuck up I am, whereas they think they’re copacetically inclined.
Since Mercury went retrograde… and I must confess the retro period doesn’t always make me notice it… technical snafus happen when Merc is not retro so… shrug… several things have happened which have drawn my attention to voice. My voice, the voice of others, and my voice amongst the voice of others.
“Each of us has one. Each voice is distinct and has something to say. Each voice deserves to be heard. But it requires the act of listening.” – Terry Tempest Williams, When Women Were Birds: Fifty-four Variations on Voice.
I came across the writings of Terry Tempest Williams the other day while looking for a quote to post on my tumblr. The quotes I read led me to purchase her book – When Women Were Birds. I’m still waiting for the bird that is Amazon to deliver it.
This is the first book I’ve bought since 2013 began, Which is odd for me, yet not odd for me.
I’ve always been a voracious reader. Absorbing the voices of others with alarming alacrity. There has rarely been a moment in my life when I haven’t been in the middle of a book. Perhaps I’ve read too much, perhaps not enough.
I wrote a whole bunch of other stuff related to this… but I can’t be bothered to type it. It was written in long hand, that is pen and paper… I haven’t written anything in long hand for a while either. It’s odd for me, yet not odd for me.
I have struggled throughout my life to find my voice. I was an echo for so long, being an echo became my voice until I finally realised it wasn’t. That’s what happens when your parents are Narcissists, and when everyone else in your early life just doesn’t hear or listen to you… you just come to believe that your voice doesn’t really matter. What you have to say… well, it’s been said before, over and over, and no one ever listens, so what is the point… people only hear what they want to hear, and what people want to hear is so very limited.
Happy happy… smile. Fine. Wonderful. Beautiful. Lovely.
Anything else… shut up.
Mercury retrograde has been focusing my attention on communication. Not as a means of self expression – my natal Mercury is in the 5th house of creative self expression – but as a means of… fuck if I know… social interaction and communication of some sort. In other words… I am being made conscious of the areas of communication where I suck big time.
Right now… I don’t feel like communicating with anyone. I’m being a bit of a sulky silent type. A sullen sphinx. Don’t wanna listen, then I ain’t gonna make you. I’ll keep this stuff to myself and fuck you. An uncommunicative brat with a side of independent thinker asshole.
I would apologise, but I’m not really sorry. Blame my past, growing up with people who taught me how to say what others wanted to hear to manipulate them, and my rebellion against being a manipulative and controlling person. Whatever. Blame my maverick tendencies. Watching too many Clint Eastwood movies and thinking that being like his characters suited my personality. Blame it on the fact that I may have spent too much time in the Sun today and my brain is fried. Ultimately the blame buck stops here, with me… but it doesn’t really mean much unless I accept it. Bucks. Money. Money has never been a motivating force in my life much to the dismay of many manipulative… just managed to stop myself from using a very censored word. Yay! I’ve forgotten what point I was going to make. Was I creating an identity for myself, maintaining one I already think is mine or…
What the fuck was I trying to say with this post? Mercury retrograde… I now have a new found respect for you and for those invisible powers which seem to work even when I am sure they’re imaginary.
Funnily enough… being an uncommunicative brat has actually helped a problem I have been unable to solve thus far. Weird, yet not weird. Not sure if this temporary solution will develop into a more permanent one, but at the moment… now is now and the only time I actually live in, so… something or not something.
All confusion created by this post is courtesy of Mercury retrograde in Cancer in the 11th house of this blogger’s natal chart. Sorry, not sorry. Expect my posts at this time to make no sense to you whatsoever… but maybe they will.