journal entry from july 27, 2017 / waxing crescent moon 22% ☽
~”my inner 7-year old keeps telling me, “you are a writer- you write. you must write- it is vital to your be-ing.”
~when i don’t write or don’t take/make the time to not express my-self through the written word- i die. simple as that. i also know that writing goes hand-in-hand for taking care of my heart and head along with water and sleep: two things i have always cheated myself on.
yesterday i cried. i laid down midday and cried, listening to the marie antoinette soundtrack, doing ego-eradicator to air’s il secundo giorno… when a quiet sobbing of the heart, salty sovereign tears came gracefully with ease, down. heartfelt. i can’t quite explain exactly what i was crying about- but i know that i was missing a past life.
anyway, i wrote a blog post yesterday on “when you know”, inspired by hemingway of course. i woke up to one new stranger who read and “liked” it and 2 new tumblr followers. it may sound corny or dumb to give a fuck, but! i do!… because this is my (not so) private heART. my writing and any sort of created collage, is me. my mind. my soul. my shadow… and my light…”~
i trust my inter-dependence and the organic process through my leo heart and libra midheaven mind with the way my existential energy is shared, a balance of shadows…
thursday’s child has far to go.