Brenda’s Unfortunate Record #46
Not sure if you’ve noticed, but Brenda seems to be appearing more & more on a fortnightly basis. Right now it’s a rainy Wednesday. The temperature’s plunged over 10 degrees in less than 12 hours and I’m sat in my studio, eating chocolate, wondering what to write about.
You see I’ve been having fun, too much so to be thinking about unfortunate-ness. This past bank holiday weekend was one of the best in years. Starting from the Thursday, right through to Monday; I saw loads of friends, I danced, made it out to Carnival and slept little, I went to all sorts of different parties, danced some more, laughed so hard my belly ached and even kissed some boys. Sunday night the body moved effortlessly through a dark and sweaty basement. There I was, completely unattached and free and yes it felt good. No one to answer to, no one to worry about, not looking for anyone and no one looking for me, as independent as could be. At the end of the night I walked home alone, totally elated, determined to hang on the feeling as long as I could.
A few days earlier, in amongst the giggles I was a bit more my normal self. I’d been up to no good the night before and in response to an email, was trying to balance my carelessness with the weight of the world. There was that article in the Guardian a few weeks back, where an old man drew parallels between August 1938 and what we’re living through now. You know, carrying on having fun whilst the drums of battle rumbled in the distance. Throw climate change, Brexit, Grenfell, Austerity and the bloody Tories into the equation, and gahhh my fingers were a-flutter. I questioned what I’d become when the nihilistic permafrost inevitably thawed. There’d be some MAJOR reckoning to face, not least over these loose personal antics.
Cause I’ve been single now for a few months and can’t say I’m on much of a roll. I’ll constantly declare that the last thing I want is to be in another relationship, but I keep getting into trouble, falling hard and fast for all the wrong guys. Pfffffffff… it’s so frustrating. Like as if I didn’t have better things to do than waste time and energy on matters of the heart. I wish I could be more nonchalant about it all.
Then DC reads my birth-chart and it all makes sense.
‘Nothing quite happens soon enough, an inherent impatience with getting what you want, emotional issues take precedence, dealing with new sentiments stirs up huge desire for activity, hard to see the long-term, instant gratification rules etc etc …’
Back when I was a kid the ultimate diss was to be a crystal-sucker and yet here I am, some 20 odd years later whimpering about my moon being in Aries… What is it about astrology? I’d like to say I’m more sceptic than believer but can’t deny some of it’s uncanny. Like you can kind of explain certain shared character traits with the time of year you’re born, i.e. being 4 months old & suddenly having your world turn 3D in the height of summer, but throw planetary / lunar nuances into the equation & shucks, I’m mystified. It’s just so bang on!!! Or am I just reading into it too much? Hehe. Maybe skimming over the contradictions & clutching at some vague generalisations cause they ring true in the instance? Lol. If only I was more erinaceus, everything would be so much easier (still mulling over this lingering obsession I have with Archilochus’ fox and hedgehog … You’ll have to wiki it. If I start trying to navigate down that route now, we’ll be well & truly lost).
Right so on that note, let’s put the zodiac away. As much as Miss Beep Beep Brenda wants to listen to the Moon Song, harnessing Sunday’s power is a much better plan.