Gemini Rising

***This is a meditative writing piece, as is its sister, Tropico of Libra, which I’ve linked down below.***

Through tomorrow I will shine, but for now, let the darkness close in.

I'm currently at war with myself; I've become aware of the thoughts that parade so nakedly around me, both positive and negative. I have been told that the mind only knows good. So where do my negative thoughts come from?

In my mind's twisted corridors, an ineradicable voice echoes its dark whisper, a macabre and formless menace that reigns domain over my psyche. This voice belongs to my other half, who is the least liked, least loved, and most feared. People consider her cruel and heartless, but she is only tough and durable. She makes me speak with realness and vulgarity.

We're no daughter of Janus, the Roman god of passages. But we are two-faced. There is no peace here.

If you were to enter my mind, you would enter her domain, where she only allows what she wants and likes. The opinions and views in my deranged and unhinged mind are not for the faint of heart, and there are no trigger warnings. So, if you were to enter, you would do so mindlessly and at your own risk.

"Fools rush in where wise men fear to tread". But I fear there are no more wise men, only fools.

With the mind riddled with distress, the darkness, and the anxiety becoming more prevalent with age, I often think about how it would feel to be naturally happy instead of relying on artificial happiness.

I've managed to sever my connection with the world that human hands and human minds created before destroying it. Perhaps my Nonna was correct; as she lay ill, the world was deteriorating, and I was spoilt with the good life until 2001.

And now, sadly, the woman I was named after is six feet under and picked clean by the worms. I will love thee forever, despite enabling me into the lost little girl I am today.

The great French poet Charles Baudelaire once said, "Do not look for my heart any more; the beasts have eaten it." - to which I say, 'and so now I've become a whore.'

Physically, I'm here. Mentally, I'm lounging poolside at the Chateau Marmont. And I haven't got a whore's notion as to why. But I suspect it's the calm before the storm.

The rights and wrongs of the world have become distorted, all of which I was taught and knew seem so taboo. Wise men have become pariahs while the fools are embraced. The new rights cause my mind, her domain, to flout and quake. The click of her tongue resounds through the dark and twisted passages before making my lips vomit the facts, speaking of something in which I have no right to speak anymore, to be immediately labelled toxic and ignorant. There are no more safe spaces in which there claim to be, or there are, but they are only for a select few. So let me return to my dead grandmother, who used to prick my fingertips with sewing needles when I did or said something wrong. My only safe space.

"In the most Biblical sense, I am beyond repentance

Fame hooker, prostitute, wench vomits her mind

But in the cultural sense, I just speak in future tense

Judas, kiss me if offensed, or wear ear condom next time" - Judas, LG

The thoughts have learnt to co-exist inside my mind. Both the good and the evil, there's no one without the other. And so I've made friends with my demons; nothing scares me anymore. And under a hell-fire horizon, we dance together on those blood-stained beaches, laughing as we watch the world die. The darkness makes the light seem brighter, as the holy father says. And with my rosary beads filled with snow, when I'm on my knees, I pray for a brilliant eradication; to rid the world of its sickness.

God bless yayo.

***Meditative writing; writing everything that comes to mind, keeping the pen moving until the words that are not my own but from my subconscious flourish to the surface***