Hi, doll.
Greetings from the middle of Scorpio Season, which has been a lot. I don’t need to delineate why. If you’re a sentient being in 2023, you already know.
But I will say that the the personal is political in a way I’ve never before witnessed in my readings, my colleagues, my loved ones. The death and destruction in the world is landing on every back and in every dream.
Scorpio season—the season of transformation and turmoil—is only intensifying everyone’s inflammation. The veil is lifted so high that I’d be an arsehole if I didn’t offer myself as a channel, so I’ve been doing readings for 10 days straight.
When the world is this much of a trashcan fire ignited and I’m working this much, I invariably hit a point where I can’t talk at all. Oh, I can talk in sessions. Much is coming from the other side that I’m honored to convey.
But in my private time, only music is cutting it. I’m bathing in big sounds—mostly singers and songs that have shored me since my misbegotten youth.
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