As an Aries/Taurus cusp, it's my lot in life to be always stretched taut between fire and earth. Lately, though, all I was to do is burn. Burn everything. The pleasant, fertile benignness of earth just makes me think of dead things, and I want to be singed to remind me I'm breathing.
Remember the room filled with string? Mine's knotted with a looooong piece of fuse.
I heard a train go by today - as I do nearly every day - but it slapped me with a memory so strong I had to blink it back. Mile 29.1, in a California cow town, the smell of new grass in the April air, the cold metal of your car on the skin of my back. The sky in transition - bright blue, stars intact. The train went by so close, and stirred a breeze that ruffled your blonde head. It's strange that the memory should be so strong - the only similarity between me then and me now is that I still bite my nails. But it's a gift to have it.