“I won’t lie; it’s heart on sleeve. Have you ever numbed yourself to avoid pain only to oscillate between the subconscious and conscious? Ever felt compelled to address Life itself? Things can be so awful but at least they can also be bliss.”
The left card represents an important element of the past. Death, when reversed: Stagnation or petrifaction. The refusal to let go of the past. Resistance to change because of fear.
The middle card represents a deciding element of the present. Eight of Wands (Swiftness): A sudden release of raw power, cutting through confusion and indecision, and setting things in motion. Rapid progress towards a desired goal, brought about by immediate and decisive action. Boldness and daring in love, business, travel, or spiritual growth.
The right card represents a critical element of the future. Nine of Cups (Happiness), when reversed: Vanity, conceit, and smugness in romance, friendship, or other relationships. Achieving what you always thought you wanted. Overindulging in food, drink, or the pleasures of the flesh. A state of joy and abundance that is shallow and fleeting.
“I draw you close to me, you women,
I cannot let you go, I would do you good,
I am for you, and you are for me, not only for our own sake, but for others’ sakes,
Envelop’d in you sleep greater heroes and bards,
They refuse to awake at the touch of any man but me.”—Walt Whitman, from “A Woman Waits for Me.” (1856) (via mydaguerreotypeboyfriend)
there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I’m not going to let anybody see you. there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he’s in there. there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too tough for him, I say, stay down, do you want to mess me up? you want to screw up the works? you want to blow my book sales in Europe? there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too clever, I only let him out at night sometimes when everybody’s asleep. I say, I know that you’re there, so don’t be sad. then I put him back, but he’s singing a little in there, I haven’t quite let him die and we sleep together like that with our secret pact and it’s nice enough to make a man weep, but I don’t weep, do you?