It strikes me that this may be the very best wardrobe choice for Wed / Thurs defcon five starred shitstirrer, when Mars and Uranus square off once more. Dior darklings, every gal’s go to for high end lady armour.
Thought things might ease up post last weekend’s eclipse? Not on your life. We’re only two of three down and boobs deep in this mucky transformation. This is nowhere near the last ten minutes of the movie, a boon at least for those currently going through hell. Keep going.
You may recall my post about this spectacular astrofuquery last week as it ramped that lunar eclipse up by a factor of eleventy. Non? Scroll down and stop at the photo of a lightning strike sparking an inferno. All flames and destruction. Yep that one.
Prepare for another. Remind yourself of this day a week ago as known offenders and some choice random stresslords utterly lost their shit / hurled it directly at you. They may have been in self serving damage control since but you can anticipate them to be back with more sultanas tomorrow. You however do not have to be, oh no you do not.
Mars is hamstrung in retrograde and the airy tangents of Aquaria are not doing him any favours. Astrolore teaches us this is the worst possible time to pick a fight, a memo that appears unseen by angry ants everywhere. Uranus is crying bloody revolution and all charged up as he approaches his stationing point to – you guessed it – turn retrograde next week. Anticipate lightning and blindsiding, shock and roar.
If your armour is at the dry cleaners, may I suggest removing yourself from the battlefield and sidestepping the fray. Discomfort and dissatisfaction are likely to take up arms tomorrow and you need not be their moving target.
This is the highest possible astrofuquery warning. Peeps are unstable, off balance and utterly discombobulated. It makes for a tinderbox. Enter at your peril.
Words c. Kerrie Basha, 2018