Astrological Musings

Disclaimer: This post solely represents the opinions and thoughts of the writer and is not meant to be taken as true facts. The writer also wants you to know that she does not think less of people who shop at the mall. She does it all the time too.
 
This post was inspired by one of my morning rituals on the 77 wherein I read my horoscope for the day. I think that section was invented for cranky morning commuters like me to inject a little happy in their morning by saying s0mething nice and positive. If you look closely, everyone’s horoscope is the same. A couple of days ago, my horoscope read, “Never feel the need to justify your beliefs to anyone”.

 

And since I ALWAYS feel the need to justify everything in life, I started to think about all the times I never took my silly astrological advice. And then I realised I had a whole bunch of nonsense, coma-inducing open ended theories that I just pulled out of my ass to justify things to people I could have cared less about.

Analogies are fun things when they make sense and don’t send one off into a boredom induced coma. The best analogies are born from shiz that you just happen to think in the mundane rountine of life like when you drinking coffee, sitting on the toilet and folding laundry.

Unfortunately, mine are usually born out of a need to argue and/or bore the toffees out of someone. (Thank you Lisa Livera for teaching me the art of inserting the word toffees in random places)

For example, there is my theory on the afterlife in which the afterlife is like the Mother of all New Year’s day parties and that you better be tight with the host if you want an invite. He should at least be aware that you’d rather be boogying it on the dance floor after you kick the bucket then spend eternity in your room (where the air-conditioning is just as dead as you are) sulking with the rest of all those who somehow in life got convinced that the host ran out of chips and tequilla for this big party in that Big Bang confusion.
Then there is my theory on waiting for The One. For those of you who do not live in this millenium (or planet), The One refers to the proverbial Soulmate. Basically, I compare finding The One to the rides at Wonderland, or any theme park you might have been to. The most badass rides usually have the longest lines. In the summer, you can be expected to be in line for 2-3hours where you would usually kill time getting frustrated, complaining about the heat, complaining about the line, winking at hotties, texting relatives you never bothered keeping in touch with and trying to convince yourself it is all worth the 30 seconds of the crazy adrenaline rush you’ll be rewarded with. Everyone has that one ride that makes them come alive. A lot of people though, would rather amuse themselves with tons of other smaller, less crowded rides that provide a temporary fix and kill time.

You KNOW you’ll have the ride of your life on the Votex. But you’d rather fool around on Taxi Jam because the line-ups are shorter and there’s not as much risk involved.

As a corollary to that absurd and ridiculously flawed comparison, lots of people are scared shitless of Twister, Topgun and taking chances and would rather keep to the safer rides like the teacups and eating funnel cake. Nothing wrong with that. But remember, you don’t want to be swirling around in a teacup eating funnel cake your whole life.

My justifying analogy on pre-martial sex is not as elaborate as finding your soulmate but is just as lustrous. I think pre-marital sex is like prematurely opening a good bottle of wine. The wine will probably taste fine but you really won’t do it justice until you have patiently waited for it to mature. It’s all downhill after uncorking it a few times, until eventually you just find yourself cooking with it. Still good, but not being enjoyed the way it was meant to.

And my favorite to finish: believing in God. Personally, I’d like to think believing in God is much like Vintage shopping. Not that there is anything wrong with shopping at the mall, but there is something very fascinating that draws me to vintage shopping that I don’t experience when I go to the mall. Every trip to a vintage or a thrift store is different. You never know what you’re going to find. Somedays are just plain frustrating where you spend hours and hours looking and searching only to come home with nothing.

 And then somedays, you just find one gorgeous dress or a breathtakingly beautiful scarf that you paid just a dime and some time for and you know all your perseverance is completely worth it. With God, no two trips to search for Him are the same. He’s too creative to wait an entire season to bring forth new lines. He does it everyday.

Somedays its plain frustrating and you wonder why you bother wasting your time searching and somedays He opens your eyes to a new perspectives that are just unquie and fabulous to you and then you understand why you bother.

Another great thing about going vintage is that it allows you the freedom to be yourself, form your own sense of style and not conform.

While many would be inclinded to believe that it’s the nutbag church goers who blindly conform, I find that there seem to be more people in this world today that conform to the idea that God is either too dead, too unexplainable, too non-existent or too busy looking for those chips and tequilla that He lost years ago in the Garden of Eden.

But that’s just what I believe. I avoid my crazy elaborate analogies these days and just smile and make you read all about it in my blog instead. 😀

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