You can’t replace what’s gone. What’s gone is gone. Everything new you do to cover up old hurts doesn’t work. Whatever your drug is. No escape from what’s inside you. One more coffee one more beer one more cookie one more kiss. Nah. Flatline. Nothing. What you have to do is die. Dump your core dump your hard drive dump your heart. Dump it. Drive away.
I was on the train when this thought came to mind and it made me think of THE DEATH card which I pulled last night and I wondered:
Is it an end? Or a REGENERATION? Is it an abortion? Or a smile from Gan Eden.
For Mercury retrograde IN SCORPIO, I want you to LOOK BACK for the purpose of moving forward.
And then CUT the cord.
Resurrection metaphors never get old for me. Scorpio eliminates. Take a dump. Scorpio rules shit. Dump the past with one press. You don’t have to die in body to come back.
From Wallace Stevens’ The Man On The Dump. Google it to read the entire poem.
Between that disgust and this, between the things
That are on the dump (azaleas and so on)
And those that will be (azaleas and so on) ,
One feels the purifying change. One rejects
That’s the moment when the moon creeps up
To the bubbling of bassoons. That’s the time
One looks at the elephant-colorings of tires.
Everything is shed; and the moon comes up as the moon
(All its images are in the dump) and you see
As a man (not like an image of a man) ,
You see the moon rise in the empty sky.