Fun Astro Stuff

The past two weeks were, let's say, very intense. At one point my hands situation got so bad that I could only do necessary tasks. Even scrolling on my phone was a no-no cause just touching the screen with my fingertips triggered tremendous pain. As well as holding stuff. So for a week straight I've spent every day either at the physio’s or doctor's office or having my blood taken. And still, no one knows what's wrong with me. It’s not my neck, it’s not from strain, it’s not carpal tunnel or anything in that nature. All of this just days before one of the busiest weeks that I had planned for this year. So I panic. A lot. And I cry even more. My right hand gets swollen, I have to cancel my plans to see Hayley Williams in Berlin. I sold my ticket that I fought for for 45 minutes during the pre sale. I know a lot of people cried when they didn't get tickets so at least I know I made someone happy. Whoever you are, I hope you had the bestest night of your life.

Meanwhile I get my meds and I'm praying to Asclepios that my hands will get better within three days because I'm stupid enough to decide to still go to Warsaw for the Summer Punch festival - something I've been waiting for since fall last year. “This is a festival made for me, I can feel it” - that's what I was telling myself for a few months, especially that I've had a hunch who will be performing and I was right, which I took as a sign. At the same time just two weeks before my trip, something was pushing me away from the event. Call me crazy, call me woo-woo but for some reason, I felt it like a magnetic repulsion: the hotel I was supposed to stay in messaged me that they are closing… my ticket for the event never arrived even though I bought it months ago… and then of course my hands that just refused to get better and were progressively getting worse. Like isn't that weird? It's like something or someone really didn't want me there. And I can’t even blame it on planets as there’s nothing that would block me now.

But I've made it, all in spite. And my right hand swell up again when I was on the train. It was so bad that I couldn't even bend my thumb. Luckily I arrived a day earlier so it kind of got better the next day.

I strolled a bit around the city. I think I'm getting used to Warsaw. I generally don't like the business. Like okay, I live in a busy city as well but I live in the suburbs, there's peace there, a forest and birds chirping in the background. So I don't live in that busy environment. But sometimes it's refreshing to be around people. Also - because I can't go without mentioning astrology - I'm in my Venus line in Warsaw so it should be a pleasant experience for me. And usually it is.

So I booked a room literally in the city center, with a view on Palace of Culture and Science. After all these years I came to a conclusion that it feels homely in a way… it's still ugly as fuck. But homely.

I was sitting in the evening, looking out the window and seeing other hotels around. How people are coming and going and walking hand in hand under the city lights. It looked quite romantic and it kind of made me sad. Independence is fun but also quite depressing when you have to do everything alone, by yourself.

I wish I could have a romantic walk with someone, stealing kisses under the yellowish-pink June sky in the background when the city gets quieter and the air is still warm even though it's 10:00 pm.

Meanwhile I'm alone. With a frozen vegan pizza that I can't eat because the oven isn't working. Yup. Funnily, this is not the first time this happened. A year ago when I came here to see Poppy, I had a similar fiasco with pizza. So, note to self: no frozen pizza in Warsaw. Just eat something else. If that's not enough, there was also an issue with warm water. It was cold 60% on the time. For someone who likes a hot shower, that was a nightmare.

Unfortunate things didn't and there.

My hand felt a bit better the next day. I mean, it was still bad but a lot less swollen, which in comparison was a win. Maybe partially it was adrenaline because somehow the swelling went away completely when I left for the festival. Suddenly I could somewhat use my right hand to hold on to something on the tram.

I should preface everything by saying I generally hate festivals. I don't like them because they are big, there's lots of people there, a lot of random people that just went because they want to feel like it’s Coachella. And most of them are drunk af. Also, a lot of drunk men. A lot of men is enough, add them being drunk and it's a big “no” for me.

But this festival is a small one. It honestly felt very homely (apparently everything's homely here lol). And the people were… quite okay as well. I haven't seen anyone annoying or bothering others or being overly drunk and disgusting. And the atmosphere? Very nice. For me, musical environments feel… well… I need to say it again – homely. I didn't necessarily grow up in the musical home in a typical my-parents-were-musicians sense, but my sister was always around people from the stage and she was dating a fairly successful drummer for over 10 years. I'm familiar with that energy. I'm also a hobbyist musician myself so everything adjacent feels very comfortable for me. I generally do not get starstruck by artists, no matter how famous they are or how big they are. Well, okay, maybe I'd get starstruck by someone like Mike Shinoda… I think.

But what I'm trying to say is, it felt very cozy. If only my hands didn't hurt.

So I run between stages. I finally caught Wargasm live, after being a fan for seven years. Kinda special for me because they are the only band that I genuinely follow since the first week of their first single ever being released. This is the moment where I would also like to publicly shoutout myself because Sam from Wargasm said I look great. And I agree. I did look great and I'm glad someone noticed. Sam has taste, apparently.

I did fuck up one thing though. And this is the moment where I have to take a deep breath.

So you know, in my true Sagittarian spirit, I am a gift giver. I love giving stuff to people. I always like giving my friends little presents for no reason. And this time I had something for a particular someone as well. A Magic the Gathering single cards that I had laying around on my shelf for a while now. Not because I play, I actually don't know anything about MTG. I got those cards purely because I'm a huge fan of Stephanie Pui-Mun Law, who's an amazing artist and she made one of my favorite tarot decks, the Shadowscapes deck. It's one of the most beautiful things I own. She also happened to illustrate a few MTG cards from way back. So I got them, as an art collector. And I brought them to Warsaw knowing I’ll be seeing this huge MTG geek.

So my target enters my field of vision. The man of my a literal dreams (that’s a topic in and of itself, I’m not gonna discuss that probably ever). One can only wish to have someone like that in their life. You know, speaking of art, I truly do think beautiful things should be preserved… therefore I would take a bullet for that man any day. Just to preserve his gorgeous face.

Anyways.

I reach for my stuff. The cards aren't there, I have a mini heart attack, I panic. I must’ve left them in my apartment room like an idiot. Those cards were supposed to be my conversation starter. I decide to play it cool. Probably a bit too cool and too nonchalant which is always my issue… I tend to be too nonchalant especially when I panic. Or when I care. Even saying this right now out loud is embarrassing. I've never wanted to sink into the ground more than now.

I never forget stuff. I don't know what happened. I truly don't. I wanted to make a nice gesture but I fucked up. That’s one of the few moments in my life where I wish I could turn back time.

Few things were a saving grace tho. I got a front row on the small stage. Kind of accidentally, I just didn't want to be near the mainstage anymore because I needed to be somewhere more quiet due to my sensitive ears (no worries, I do wear ear plugs). I never had a front row before. So that was very nice. And then to finish it, some random dude gave me his VIP pass because he said he's leaving earlier. Honestly I only stayed 20 minutes longer than him but I thought it's funny that I have these lucky moments when I don't ask for them… like would you think someone will walk up to you and be like “hey do you want the VIP pass? Just hide your bracelet and take mine”. Thinking about it, it's kind of amazing. I do not consider myself a lucky person but this was a small lucky moment for me. Quite refreshing. I wish people and fate would surprise me like this even more. A nice random “hey”…

So I leave the festival to catch the last tram of the day. I think at this point my armpits are starting to get smelly from sweating in the sun for a few hours. Or my sweat just smells funny from the meds I'm taking. The sound of bass and cheering crowd is still echoing in the distance, lots of smiley faces around me leaving as well. I don't think I've ever felt so defeated in my life. I kind of want to cry but I’m also starting to disassociate. I don't think I'm physically tired, I'm not even hungry. But mentally and emotionally I'm drained. I'm waiting at the tram stop. I’m thinking, I've been on this street way too many times because there's a venue there where I've seen a few shows. And every time there's something weird in the air. Every time I leave, something's off, like something that was supposed to happen didn't happen.

I get off the tram next to the central station. The ugly Palace is glowing purple. It's past 11:00 pm but there's still lots of people on the streets. I get to my building and finally to my room. I take a quick look at myself in the mirror. “At least I still look pretty, too bad I never took any photos”. The prettiness changes 5 seconds later. I start to cry and my makeup falls apart. I cry for an hour. I try to ground myself doing readings with my lenormand deck. The cards are saying I did great, I keep getting the sun card. I keep getting the heart card. But they also say something changed and that there was a metaphorical wall. “Did I do something wrong yet again? Did I even actually genuinely had fun?” Somehow my hands stop hurting completely. I see the damn MTG cards are laying on the table. I just stare at them.

I cry again at 4:00 am in the morning, can't sleep because the sparrows outside of my window are so damn loud. “Why did I even come here? I should have stayed home.” I feel lonely, I feel like crap, I still don't know what's wrong with my hands. What if it turns out they are fucked for life? What if I’ll never be able to play guitar again? Do crafty things? Or write freely on my keyboard? I think about my friends and the friends I've lost. And the social interactions that I've messed up. And that gorgeous face. Everyone I’ve met at the festival were so nice to me but all I can think about is how I literally malfunction when I'm under pressure.

“I don't think I deserve a bad fate” is what I'm ruminating on in my head. "I'm a happy, jolly and funny person in nature. Maybe a bit melodramatic because when I feel, I feel things strongly. But it's not normal for me to be sad. I don't deserve to be sad" - these words are looping in my head as I stand in the bathroom, trying to get it together.