Put away the turkey, bring on the stew.
"Mars retro in Cancer generates a confused emotional state, placing those most affected at the mercy of the environment... Because Mars in Cancer normally generates a bold, independent and fearless nature, during the retrograde phase when nature is turned upon its head we should restrain the urge to exercise undue or tyrannical authority over everything and everybody within the home...This position makes the temper rather uncertain and there is a tendency for people to get restless being inclined to change occupations.
Beware domestic troubles at home, frequent if not violent scenes and quarrels, child and spouse abuse, etc. It also indicates accidents by fire in the home due to carelessness or lack of past preparation."
I mentioned this in an earlier post. You know I love exploring the fuckery that is retrograde. Maybe it's the slew of things going on with me (the unrest of family burials, the edge of depression that holidays bring, my truck shut down over the weekend)...but I find my usual proper perspective waning.
I am angry. About historical things, about future events I can neither see nor predict...I am finding myself getting perilously close to picking fights that will only disturb the sleeping dogs I've agreed to let lie. I want certain people to make an appearance, so I can say things that may guarantee their disappearance from my life for eternity.
I am surprised by my blood lust. I know I can be uncomfortably direct, on any given day...but this desire to say things that I know will have crushing effects is exceeding my normal awareness that ugly words only bring regret. I want collateral damage.
If it seems I've been absent, it's because I am. I'm sitting very deeply in the back of my cave, burning cedarwood and hoping I can remember that these times pass. I'm waiting for clarity to push past my fog and bring a quiet storm. Right now, I'm that pat of butter that's been spread too thin.
Mars? Get going. Because life doesn't have a reset button for me to press once I've gone and said too much.
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I no longer want to do this. I simply decided hey, you're outta my life, buddy. End of story, no do-overs, bye bye. For good. I will never darken his door again, and if his wife wants to see me, she has to drive 2.5 hours *sans* hubby. I figure, let him stew in his own personal hell. He created it, after all.