From Rob Brezsny...
When I traveled from San Francisco to Amsterdam with Maureen some years ago, we arrived at our hotel in a state of radical sleep deprivation. The concierge told us our room wasn't quite ready, and suggested we go kill some time at a nearby tourist attraction. We took his advice, walking a few blocks to the History of Torture Museum. There we found devices like the Judas Cradle, the Heretic's Fork, and the Chair of Spikes. Being horrified and grossed out helped keep us semi-awake, which was good, but we kept nodding off and dreaming of being tortured, which wasn't so fun. And yet soon we were back at the hotel, safe and sound, catching up on our lost rest. I predict that in the coming week, Aquarius, you will have a series of experiences with an uncanny similarity to ours.
Fortunately I am not a woman who takes stock in such things.
Fortunately it is almost Wednesday again, a week.
Fortunately I will not be alone on my trip.
I remember what I said: I want to be ordinary and good.
I remember what the dresser said to me, backstage, in high school, in the dressing room, her mouth full of pins:I think your life will always be like this.
I looked down at my corset. I looked down at my dress. A girl in The Crucible was suddenly sick. I had to learn her lines and go on, go on, go on.
