Oh, Devil, Where Art Thou?

Tonight my Tarot cards are screaming at me. I love it (semi-sarcastic there) when I lay out my cards looking for the answer to a question and the come back with a bitch slap. Makes my day. Actually, it usually freaks me out. Like tonight. A friend of mine would say that I am "hot" tonight. I guess that's the same thing.

The Devil, card XV, is aparently hanging out in my higher consciousness with a direct message to recognize my feelings of entrapment. This is different in its message from the Eight of Swords in that the "entrapment" is not something of my own creation but a product of my surroundings and current events.

While I understand my situation, I am hesitant to do anything about it out of a paranoia I have about majorly screwing up my life. I have yet to actually do that, though I'm of the opinion I've almost done it a few times. Mirroring that hesitation is the squirrelly little Page of Pentacles hanging about upside down in my physical issues area. God, so damn accurate. It's paired itself up with the the Five of Cups, a card that in most interpretations shows depression on a physical level. The effing Devil is sitting directly opposite it in my spread. Little fuckers. I hate/love it whe they are right.

So what to do? My outcome showed a progression into the stage of my life marked by stability of emotions and a maturity we all strive for. What a nice "Do it, you moron" message I am getting there. I got what I asked for. The brilliant array of new experiences that also showed in the reading are hard to ignore though I am always more prone to pass up change if at all possible. Why do that? 'Cus I'm a moron. My own belief that life is about constantly changing in order to progress towards a higher state of being seems very lacking at the moment. Call me a hypocrite. Just not to my face. My cards should take care of that for me. Bastards.

That bitter trend you see weaving its way in in reference to my little deck 'o Tarot is kind of an exageration. They have yet to really let me down, so I tend to trust them. I just hate being told things that have the potential to really screw around with my own morbid stability. Now I just have to ponder whether I will really take their advice and step off the cliff you see in the Fool's little picture and trust myself to the Fates.

I'm going to be up late tonight.

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