Guest guest Posted April 10, 2005 Report Share Posted April 10, 2005 Cannot imagine living. In Œ94 I thought I was unhappy with my marriage. I set out to find a new wife. Biggest mistake I ever made. I started crying in the first month living alone when I realized woman did not respond to me thought they always looked at me. It¹s still that way. Be happy first yourself people say. Can¹t. Crying still, ten years on. I saw it in my Saturn Dasha, which by my calcs (Parallax on) is over. I¹m in Mercury. But I still cry daily. I¹m wired to be loved. Can¹t live without ³the other² as seventh lord resides inside me, in the first. No will to do anything anymore. I tried so hard to ³serve God and the world². I don¹t believe in God anymore. It¹s all a bunch of words, pomp, so called ³faith² which is just stupidity, wishful thinking. There is no personal God. Many genius¹s have come, done wonders, not been loved, and killed themselves. Would it have been so hard for some woman whom Van Gough liked to be with him? What about ALL the other HUNDREDS of manic genius¹s who killed themselves because they were misunderstood and unloved therefore. I can do much more, but I don¹t want to. If nobody whom I love is going to love me, what¹s the point. I cann¹t live on and on and on just working hard and feeling so isolated and alone. I know some have tried to love me. But I have to feel it too. I have to be attracted and respect them and love them in return. I can¹t find this. I don¹t want to live. I just cry and cry and cry. Study that if you want to. Blair Lewis told me about ³After the ecstasy, the Laundry², a book about exalted people who have real downs too. I¹m one of them. I can barely take these downs, er, uh, I mean, my nearly ever moment. I walk in constant awareness that I am not in love. CONSTANT. It doesn¹t leave me. Is it 7th lord in the first? I love life. I love the world. I love art, astrology, the creation, animals, people, but I must have a wife I love. I must. I cannot be alone like this always. I want to make plans to move Americans into better cities to stop the fuel consumption, and pollution, teach them to be peaceful, do arts, stop the society which is so wasteful. Then, lets end wars, have a REAL ³U.N.². Ending war means plenty of effort and money for education. That¹s the ticket to a good earth. I want to make many paintings. Music. Astrology software. Everything. I want to live. Not cry. But not, I only just cry. Shieze. Study that. Study that Moon afflicted by Ketu and Saturn in Kumba is DEADLY. GOT THAT?! I see God, but through TEARS. I see heaven, but through tears. I see forever, but through tears. I see my life, through death. I feel like Nero. What an artist the world is losing today. That¹s how I feel. A stab in the neck (Nero) is like Ketu on moon or Lagna, which I have (Moon). I can so relate. Except the asshole OK¹d the slaughter of the Druids by Suitonius in britain (asshole). Whatever, you really can¹t argue with 2000 years old history can you. If you don¹t understand this, you don¹t know enough astrology, me, Celtic history, and I can¹t care cuzz I¹m writing to make myself feel like I¹m with people even though I¹m not. Damn tears. How many more years. Damn woman who think a man must be ³self winding and just fine² before he¹s loveable. Damn me for not being attracted and in love with the few who do love me faithfully on and on despite the fact that I don¹t reciprocate with them for want of returned attraction and love. The best brains are wasted in suicide for want of being understood and loved. And the world goes on in it¹s stupidity the next day, while burying a wasted wonderful brain and heart. Hundreds. There¹s lists of them on the web. So many great authors, musicians, everything, you name it, look it up, it¹s such a waste. Lord Byron wrote it too, that ³only you can save me² (the love he sought). I so agree. I so know. I so understand. I would probably be better off back in monastery. 1800 years ago when I was a monk on the west coast of Ireland, we would sit on the rocks in the pounding rain and myst, praying, together, across the rocky face, in woolen robes soaked wet, tolerating it all, till our fires were nearly out, then we would replenish, and go for more, praying to God on the edge on Europe. At least that is huge. At least that is something extreme. At least it engaged the fire of passion. I didn¹t sit around waiting for some village Celtic chick to realize I was worth loving. I just gave myself to that God that doesn¹t exist. In time we would die, get killed, or whatever. It¹s all just about mental and physical survival and pushing forward the envelope of understanding and science. Thousands before that I was a Druid, who could float off the groud to travel. The brown people, Firbold, were our people, and we just taught them many things. Always giving, giving, giving, giving, it never ends. In this life, Hare Krishna, I worked so hard. So very hard. Nothing came, but a good wife, that I left because I thought I could do better. What a stupid mistake. But now I can¹t stand that sitting around and chanting the name of a God that never responds, doesn¹t exist, and is just another dream to occupy our minds. Can you believe that idiot Henry the 8th destroyed so much good stuff? The fool had his idiots burn all the ancient relics in Ireland. If it were¹t for him we¹d still have strange things like the heads of ancient leaders, or art objects made thousands of years ago. Always burning and clearing, these fools. Never cherishing the fine and good. Thank intelligence for modern museums. Well, I¹m out of words. I¹ve harmed myself in the public eye enough for one evening. I¹m prepared for this to be ignored as it always is, as I always am. Another night alone in pain, wondering ³what the *uck am I doing². Pain. Pain. Pain. 10 years of it. Ten years of crying. Ten years of hoping, wishing, wanting, not getting, ten years of extreme Saturn and Ketu. Ten years. How much can a person handle? Jesus preached for 3 and died in a couple. That¹s NOTHING. People in wheel chairs suffer more than that guy. Year after year of pain will make you write like this too. And if not, then it¹s not as deep. It has to be deep. DEEP PAIN. Constant crying. Hurt. Whatever Ree MacQuoid ------ End of Forwarded Message Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted April 10, 2005 Report Share Posted April 10, 2005 Well GOravani, I just had a look at your chart to see if I could see something potentially encouraging. ( *hopefully i have the birthdetails correct)... anyway. if I do have.. (if anything looks wrong please correct the birth details. may 18 1960 aries asc) Saturn transiting 3rd house, and 5th from Moon. 5th from moon is a depressing aspect, and although 3rd house is considered good, its still a mental activity house and will at the least create a serious tone. Thats almost finished now. Then in 2007 you have a parivatana yoga in your varshaphal between your 7th house and your 11th. Mars and Jupiter. Mars also squares Venus. This could possibly indicate a relationship with a friend. Moon also approaches Venus. 1st and 3rd lord suggesting further writing. It could even be the possibility of relationship you are hoping for. December 2007 Ketu Bhukti in Mercury mahadasha start of course. That has both negative and positive sides to it as you have already drawn attention to. The positive may be ideals and visions. It also brings up the theme of the Varshphal of a friend. Most likely a spiritual connection. And in terms of mistakes and regrets. It appears to be hard to live life without them. Lessons come hard sometimes can't they. None of us escape that somehow. dawn valist, Das Goravani <das@g...> wrote: > > > > Cannot imagine living. > > In Œ94 I thought I was unhappy with my marriage. I set out to find a new > wife. > > Biggest mistake I ever made. > > I started crying in the first month living alone when I realized woman did > not respond to me thought they always looked at me. > > It¹s still that way. > > Be happy first yourself people say. Can¹t. > > Crying still, ten years on. I saw it in my Saturn Dasha, which by my calcs > (Parallax on) is over. I¹m in Mercury. But I still cry daily. > > I¹m wired to be loved. Can¹t live without ³the other² as seventh lord > resides inside me, in the first. > > No will to do anything anymore. I tried so hard to ³serve God and the > world². > > I don¹t believe in God anymore. It¹s all a bunch of words, pomp, so called > ³faith² which is just stupidity, wishful thinking. There is no personal God. > > Many genius¹s have come, done wonders, not been loved, and killed > themselves. Would it have been so hard for some woman whom Van Gough liked > to be with him? What about ALL the other HUNDREDS of manic genius¹s who > killed themselves because they were misunderstood and unloved therefore. > > I can do much more, but I don¹t want to. If nobody whom I love is going to > love me, what¹s the point. I cann¹t live on and on and on just working hard > and feeling so isolated and alone. I know some have tried to love me. But I > have to feel it too. I have to be attracted and respect them and love them > in return. I can¹t find this. I don¹t want to live. I just cry and cry and > cry. > > Study that if you want to. > > Blair Lewis told me about ³After the ecstasy, the Laundry², a book about > exalted people who have real downs too. I¹m one of them. I can barely take > these downs, er, uh, I mean, my nearly ever moment. I walk in constant > awareness that I am not in love. CONSTANT. It doesn¹t leave me. Is it 7th > lord in the first? > > I love life. I love the world. I love art, astrology, the creation, animals, > people, but I must have a wife I love. I must. I cannot be alone like this > always. > > I want to make plans to move Americans into better cities to stop the fuel > consumption, and pollution, teach them to be peaceful, do arts, stop the > society which is so wasteful. Then, lets end wars, have a REAL ³U.N.². > > Ending war means plenty of effort and money for education. That¹s the ticket > to a good earth. > > I want to make many paintings. Music. Astrology software. Everything. > > I want to live. > > Not cry. > > But not, I only just cry. > > Shieze. > > Study that. Study that Moon afflicted by Ketu and Saturn in Kumba is DEADLY. > > GOT THAT?! > > I see God, but through TEARS. > > I see heaven, but through tears. > > I see forever, but through tears. > > I see my life, through death. > > I feel like Nero. What an artist the world is losing today. > > That¹s how I feel. > > A stab in the neck (Nero) is like Ketu on moon or Lagna, which I have > (Moon). > > I can so relate. Except the asshole OK¹d the slaughter of the Druids by > Suitonius in britain (asshole). Whatever, you really can¹t argue with 2000 > years old history can you. > > If you don¹t understand this, you don¹t know enough astrology, me, Celtic > history, and I can¹t care cuzz I¹m writing to make myself feel like I¹m with > people even though I¹m not. > > Damn tears. How many more years. Damn woman who think a man must be ³self > winding and just fine² before he¹s loveable. Damn me for not being > attracted and in love with the few who do love me faithfully on and on > despite the fact that I don¹t reciprocate with them for want of returned > attraction and love. > > The best brains are wasted in suicide for want of being understood and > loved. > > And the world goes on in it¹s stupidity the next day, while burying a wasted > wonderful brain and heart. Hundreds. There¹s lists of them on the web. > So many great authors, musicians, everything, you name it, look it up, it¹s > such a waste. > > Lord Byron wrote it too, that ³only you can save me² (the love he sought). > > I so agree. I so know. I so understand. > > I would probably be better off back in monastery. 1800 years ago when I was > a monk on the west coast of Ireland, we would sit on the rocks in the > pounding rain and myst, praying, together, across the rocky face, in woolen > robes soaked wet, tolerating it all, till our fires were nearly out, then we > would replenish, and go for more, praying to God on the edge on Europe. At > least that is huge. At least that is something extreme. At least it engaged > the fire of passion. I didn¹t sit around waiting for some village Celtic > chick to realize I was worth loving. I just gave myself to that God that > doesn¹t exist. > > In time we would die, get killed, or whatever. It¹s all just about mental > and physical survival and pushing forward the envelope of understanding and > science. Thousands before that I was a Druid, who could float off the groud > to travel. The brown people, Firbold, were our people, and we just taught > them many things. Always giving, giving, giving, giving, it never ends. > > In this life, Hare Krishna, I worked so hard. So very hard. Nothing came, > but a good wife, that I left because I thought I could do better. What a > stupid mistake. But now I can¹t stand that sitting around and chanting the > name of a God that never responds, doesn¹t exist, and is just another dream > to occupy our minds. > > Can you believe that idiot Henry the 8th destroyed so much good stuff? The > fool had his idiots burn all the ancient relics in Ireland. If it were¹t > for him we¹d still have strange things like the heads of ancient leaders, or > art objects made thousands of years ago. Always burning and clearing, these > fools. Never cherishing the fine and good. Thank intelligence for modern > museums. > > Well, I¹m out of words. I¹ve harmed myself in the public eye enough for > one evening. I¹m prepared for this to be ignored as it always is, as I > always am. Another night alone in pain, wondering ³what the *uck am I > doing². > > Pain. Pain. Pain. 10 years of it. Ten years of crying. Ten years of > hoping, wishing, wanting, not getting, ten years of extreme Saturn and Ketu. > Ten years. How much can a person handle? Jesus preached for 3 and died in > a couple. That¹s NOTHING. People in wheel chairs suffer more than that > guy. > > Year after year of pain will make you write like this too. And if not, then > it¹s not as deep. It has to be deep. DEEP PAIN. Constant crying. Hurt. > > > > > Whatever > Ree MacQuoid > > > > > > > das@g... > > > > > > > > > ------ End of Forwarded Message > > ------ End of Forwarded Message > > > > Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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