10-25-2020, 10:04 PM
I hate Scorpio season. And it's here.
It doesn't matter what's going on in my life at the time, it always brings a fresh
new coat of thick, black paint to spill over me and choke out most of my resolve.
I thought I had it beat this year but it was just hiding, waiting until I had my back
turned long enough to sink in its talons. Shallow to get a hold, then deeper until
I'm once again lost to the struggle. A ceaseless game of tug of war. Bitter and enduring.
Its tightest grip is not an "every minute of the day" kind of thing, but there's a constant
presence. A lingering, bothersome annoyance. Just letting me know, like a roof leak coming
through the ceiling intermittently onto the top of my head. "I'm still here, watching, waiting,
making sure to keep you close" is what I imagine it saying. It sickens me. Entirely.
But it's nothing that will last forever. Only a few more weeks. Then it runs downhill to rejoin
the stream, until next year.
I hate Scorpio season.
It doesn't matter what's going on in my life at the time, it always brings a fresh
new coat of thick, black paint to spill over me and choke out most of my resolve.
I thought I had it beat this year but it was just hiding, waiting until I had my back
turned long enough to sink in its talons. Shallow to get a hold, then deeper until
I'm once again lost to the struggle. A ceaseless game of tug of war. Bitter and enduring.
Its tightest grip is not an "every minute of the day" kind of thing, but there's a constant
presence. A lingering, bothersome annoyance. Just letting me know, like a roof leak coming
through the ceiling intermittently onto the top of my head. "I'm still here, watching, waiting,
making sure to keep you close" is what I imagine it saying. It sickens me. Entirely.
But it's nothing that will last forever. Only a few more weeks. Then it runs downhill to rejoin
the stream, until next year.
I hate Scorpio season.
