So remember my triumphant return to blogging? Because the world was in shambles and I thought we’d need mediums like these — emphasizing the personal, the mundane — to act as our bridge over troubled waters? (I did not say “bridge over troubled waters” at the time, but it sounds good here, so I’m going with it).
Well. That hasn’t quite worked out.
It’s hard to write about yourself when you’re lost. When you’re sick of yourself. When you have no idea who the hell you are anymore and you’re known for bold declarations of just that. How do you write through that without whining? Without navel-gazing in the midst of social, political, and cultural upheaval?
So, I didn’t write.
The problem is, I write to know who I am.
That’s not some shit I made up on the fly, either. If you look at my natal chart, the ruler of my First House (the house of the Self a.k.a. the “you” in your chart and don’t let anyone tell you differently) is in my Third House (communication). Me and the mediums with which I express myself go hand in hand. Yet, I hesitate to go through the motions on my blog, because?
I don’t want you to see me unsure or questioning. Then, you might say “That’s what you get for not being normal. For thinking you could do life ‘differently’ and be fulfilled.”
I am afraid of what you’ll think of me. And now that I’ve looked that particular boogeyman in the face, I can tell it “Fuck you.”
Another fact about the Third House of the natal chart: it is a busy house. Planets placed in the 3rd don’t get to sit still. They are tasked with problem-solving. With the ruler of my house of self in the third, “Who am I?” might be an open question for the rest of my life.
That sounds like a pain in the ass. I suppose I should write about it.