Wednesday, August 10, 2016

PRESCRIPTION

Excuse me. I have Saturn in the tenth squaring Mercury tight but you don't have to know astrology to know I mean serious business. See my rainbow wig and sloppy black eyeliner star? Yes. Precisely. I'm the new dope ass sheriff in Trouble Town. In a creative writing workshop the professor (she's a doctor she has a doctorate she knows shit she has a lot of books and a house and she's probably been to Europe at least once) suggested that perhaps I am not a good fit for a creative writing workshop because I get too emotional (damn you progressed Pisces moon! damn you tight Neptune in the fourth moon in the first square!). I was passionate about my stance on trigger warnings. No day I've ever known has come equipped with a trigger warning. I fall in love because he looks the right way and says the right things and BOOM. POW. He forgot to tell me about the bitch in New Hampshire who has never looked the wrong way or said wrong things in her right ass sweet ass hot ass life. So suddenly I'm dead, eating Ben & Jerry's out of the carton and walking around the vomitscape in my Wal-Mart donut pajama pants. I'm crying over Air Supply and Chicago songs and posting endless ambitious selfies to Twitter to prove that I exist. Or. You know how it goes in America and a few other places. You walk out the door. The sky is blue. You have twenty bucks in your pocket and the world is your ice cream cone. You're minding your own business doing the right thing looking both ways before crossing the street then SPLATTER. Your ass is mowed down by some drunk ass ice cream truck driver blasting The Greatest Hits of Sammy Hagar Suck Ass Version of Van Halen. "I Can't Drive 55" is the last thing you hear as you lay there dying in the wrong underwear. You should have worn your purple Fruit of the Looms, then maybe you'd still be alive, rocking out with your cock out to superior Van Halen. "Panama," baby.

So in all my Saturn in the tenth house squaring Mercury tight wisdom I shall issue this prescription. There are no trigger warnings. Most of us are Laura Dern in "Wild at Heart" screaming at Sailor to find something life affirming on the fucking radio. If it's all death and horror all the time it's up to you it's up to me it's up to all of us to find our own piece of inviolable blue sky. I don't follow any particular blueprint. I take the tacos where I can find em. I have Beethoven. I have Matisse. I have Frida Kahlo. I have Billie Holiday. I have my Snoopy diary. I have the ten of cups. I have a rainbow wig and lipstick every color of the rainbow. I have love that lisps sweeter than Cindy Brady.

What's in your wallet?

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