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CHRIS REPPUCCI

212 Barker Rd. 

Troy, ME

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Astrology of 10/28/19-11/3/19: Conversations With Stagehands

October 28, 2019

 

 

Monday Oct 28

midnight (morn): New Moon In Scorpio

4am: Sun opposite Uranus

-Tuesday Oct 29

6pm: Moon in Sag

-Wednesday Oct 30

6pm: Venus Conjunct Mercury

-Thursday Oct 31

10am: Moon conjunct Jupiter

8pm: Mercury stations RX

-Friday Nov 1

5pm: Venus ingress Sagittarius

-Saturday Nov 2

2pm: Sun into Scorpio 2

-Sunday Nov 3

8pm: Mars into Libra 3

 

          There was once a series of vivid images, like blazon beasts crossing forefield through the darkness, heavily laden in signifiers of unknown ideas, like weighty jewelry that pulls upon your nape, and presses with its pendent like a palm mid breast, and wrapped around each finger to the quick as if it means gnaw its way in and fuse with the knuckle bone, and fifty pounds of silver flashes, and the reflections of gold and copper too from other realms, beams of light and laser from odd angle windows enter into the camera obscura and by the chiasmus of dust crossed photon streams animals emerged and told startling stories, and they danced up spines and climbed rear ribs and circled bodies and found sleeping caves and all the hordes of treasure streaming through bared teeth of predator and prey alike: Deer make aggressive sounds just before they flee, and others slink in silence and pounce without warning.  The oceans swish and slosh in immensity outside the endless black space, somehow here and elsewhere all at once.  Then was drills of fire spiraling, boring into one another, and alliances were made.  Two knives piercing each other, two hatchets cleaving one another.  Division in symmetry can be a curtain parting, behind which is an altogether other drama in which to delight, and to become drunk as both audience and actor.  Now that the Moon has darkened to nothing and rotates around to slip into an opposite slender slit, and the coin of Mene pays admission into a new cycle another sequence has begun.  The darkened stage upon which puppets played, laced with desire drugs and gorged on pleasure pills and potions poured, has all but emptied except for lingering ghosts and the drapery of curtains burned shear from the excitement of company.  There are shivers to contend to, husk houses, dross nutshells, oyesters halved and void ofn their meat, pearls rolled beneath collapsed furniture, empty wine bottles in smoldering ash, dogs asleep everywhere, bent tools, things twisted up, the remains of fruit suckled, rinds and peels, recordings of laughter, tossed bedsheets, an eerie haze.  

          In conversation with an errant ghost about what transpired in the throws of animal possession and more key, where we might go from here, strangely, the whispy thing speaks of a new play.  A sequel?  and, No! he replies, what horror!  A new production alltogether.  Its already ben written.  He sidely closely, and alcohol can be smelt upon his breath.  He seethes in all his intangibility.  John Milton's HISS fragrant on his ardor, the Moon promise evident, staining his invisible lapels.  He continues.  A new play, another one, like the last but different.  More in line with reality, but also more passionate than before.  Less charming, more necissary, more hungry, less friendly, more piercing, less romantic, more wrathful, a capture, a quaking, riding upon the momentum of curtains cast off, of visions beyond the veil, less dancing and more throttling, more triumphant, more ultimate, more motivated, like Bathory drinking Blood, like Lautréamont upon the piano, single notes pounding, a thing on a track moving, going somewhere, assembling momentum.  Can't you feel it now?  The momentum?  The terror of cogs clicking into place?  But the excitement to?  This one will be real, not false, we will walk directly through the mirror and it will smash, and the shatterings that rain upon us will be proof of the other world.  The illusion is real it is the world that is fake.  It is too singular, laughable really.  We will collaborate.  We will combine all into one arrow of noble virtue and aim it at the heart of God, and once that Dragon is lanced and slain, then the house will fill again.  Fill with Flaming Creatures, wielding SPLEEN.  Don't believe me, old friend, look into your dreams.  It will be the same for all.  Multiplicity, high strangeness, dissonance, difference, diversion, bifurcation, and the beauty of chiasmus as the inevitibility of paths crossing.  The center of the crossroads here upon the stage.  The distant star as an event horizon.  The entrance is the exit and the distance in between two objects upon a spectrum the measure of a day in heaven, but here in hell that all collapses, and in the inverted cone of its impact we spin, like something betwixt, inbetween, inalterable, indestructible, indescribable: A slaying arrow vaulting through the Void.

          The ghost then crosses the stage and joins a few of his fellows, barely perceptible in the almost total lack of light.  The stage will fill again they mutter, crouching over various tasks, like fishermen mending nets.  The show must go on.

 

          The New Moon in Scorpio starts the week, the second Mars ruled lunation in a row, the unraveling down to a Scorpionic initiation which resulted out of the Aries climax which built up from a Libran lunar episode almost a month ago.  We made connections, they went off in fireworks and end in a new dark game that sees smolder eyed through the tunnel of the night forest.  Nocturnal is its name.  But as the Sun has recently slipped into the deep waters of the primal soul wells where instincts mix and are made into intuitions and passions, casting his flashlight over the emotional waterworks, Mars hangs back in Libra, having stepped onto the Via Combusta and Firewalks his way through the corridor of infernal and incendiary stars, meanwhile Venus bravely saunters into Sagittarius and becomes copresent with its Ruler Jupiter, who is making his final drives toward aquisition of Grails and ultimate goals possible and probable.  We might take pleasure in that our initiations and shadow pacts may be the very scale tippers in achieving our more ennobled desires:  What we REALLY want beneath it all and above as well.  This has been a theme all 2019, although this is a particularly acute moment of it.  Mars is separating from his square with Saturn, he understands now what's at stake.  Venus moving into Sagittarius means she is optimistic and motivated to strive for her diverse desires even if that means making a man out of her horse and a horse out of her man.  She can no longer see Saturn, so she will heretofor do whatever it is her creative fires tell her is available to do without worrying about the consequences.  She's blazing ahead at her attractions with positive visualization doing wonders.  The Sun has night vision, and moving forward has less fear of traversing the bitter swamps and squalid sewers.  Prepare for those environments to be the setting of the next episode of our adventure, but you might as well get used to them fast.  Maybe give Hard To Be A God another viewing.  Especially as Mercury goes retrograde conjunct Venus still in detriment on Halloween.

          What does that last bit mean?  Well that's exactly the problem.  The next couple weeks will have the realization that we are always going to be in an endless loop of insatiable and harsh desire triggering a whole host of rethinking what we are made up of in the recesses of our guts and the dark inner spaces of our body where no light ever sees.  The red blood we romanticize is blue on the inside and we might want to go in there and consult with that oracle for some answers to questions about why we are not satisfied with our life and what messages our body and the internal organs and all the other creatures and ghost that share that flesh space with us have to say and hash it all out in a dialogue, a kind of Symposium Of The Flesh, a Primal Colloquy.  Take notes, I mean literally, get a journal that no one else will ever see and spend this Mercury retrograde just letting 'er rip.  Don't hold back anything.  Love, hate, lust, no holds barred.  You can burn it after if you want, but just get yourself in touch with the demons that possess you and get some stuff sorted out for your mutual benefit.  Live in accordance with them, rather than trying to lock them out or kick them out, as new ones and probably more nasty ones will rear up to take their place.  We are meant to be haunted, its how nature works.

          

          

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