Fodder to the Fire

Gemini, walk with me. **Forgive me for the clipped audio in the first two segments. MAS ♠️❤️♠️ To book a personal reading with me or gift one to a star-crossed friend : firetothefodder@gmail.com —— Disclaimer: All information learned through this channel is for entertainment purposes only. All readings are general readings not one-to-one readings. They are not intended to replace your own judgment. Viewers are solely responsible for how they interpret the information and any action taken following. Any and all information given is subject to your own interpretation and should not be regarded as a substitute for financial, relationship, legal, medical, counseling, business fact or advice. Please seek professional help and advice if needed. --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/foddertothefire/support

CALENDAR Abridged Transit Calendar: Mars/Pluto in Aries/Capricorn, Mercury/Uranus in Scorpio/Taurus. End of Sept: Saturn direct/Mars square Saturn Oct 1: Full Moon in Aries Oct 4: Pluto direct Oct 7: Mercury/Uranus opposition #1 Oct 9: Mars square Pluto Oct 13: Mercury retrograde in Scorpio. Oct 16: New Moon in Libra Oct 19: Mercury/Uranus opposition #2 (via the retrograde) ------ End of Libra Season ------ Oct 22: Sun moves into Scorpio -------- BOOKINGS To book a personal reading, you can do so by emailing: firetothefodder@gmail.com -------- Legal Disclaimer: All information learned through this channel is for entertainment purposes only. All readings are general readings not one-to-one readings. They are not intended to replace your own judgment. Viewers are solely responsible for how they interpret the information and Madelin takes no responsibility for individual viewer interpretation or action. Any and all information given is subject to your own interpretation and should not be regarded as a substitute for financial, relationship, legal, medical, counseling, business fact or advice. Please seek professional help and advice if needed. --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/foddertothefire/support

Scorpio season 2019 on ice, just in time for Pluto direct, Pluto Return part 2, Mercury retro in Scorpio, and Scorpio season. --- Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/foddertothefire/support

Writer’s note: the following post contains sexual violence, explicit language and potentially other triggering content. Please think carefully about whether you’d like to listen.

Excerpts on Grieving: June 28, 12:12 AM, Ridgewood, Queens, NY.

Relevant?

I have a dream.

This one's for George Floyd. This one is for EVERYONE. We're in one boat. Look around and see the chains. This isn't justice. This is just ice.

I hear the truck Sometimes don’t know what to think, The way it goes round and round Pop go the weasal to sell me sweets. I hear the truck, The way it loop-de-loops Around the block Like one unextinguished thought, Repeating thought And still it turns— Never makes any money— Always wondered how those cones converted to the price of gas. Always wondered how the cash Kept flowing Smooth as soft-serve, Always wondered if the driver was insane. I hear the truck, The way it repeats all day, AM, PM FM LOUD Decide right in this moment Of course he is insane Decide right in this moment That the universal liscense plate for ice cream trucks, it is PTSD, The way it sounds Like childhood Like threatening The way it smells like red dye 40 Getaway And a spoonful of sugar helps the shut-the-fuck-up medicine go down I hear the truck And I hear memories Hear disney world And fuck you And i dont even know if disney world has icecream trucks And fuck you And wish I knew which flavor of this Life it is the right one, The one that tastes like prozac Xanax Zoloft 2 pills Pink pill Red pill Green pill Blue Think why are pills the shade of icecream Tastes like I’m not good enough And i’m too much And for whom is it that we take these pills? And god forsake me if that makes me sound greedy That I don’t want a snow cone Cocaine No pain Life I am Needy Have needs That were not met Rather to have hopped into that truck with perfect stranger and say i will go with you It would feel safer than if I stayed. I hear the truck The fucking song think I am tired of having my head of Life beneath a gun The triggers Never stopping The bad cops Always winning The wrong people always loosing These bruises Broken Blessings I’ve said ‘Hashem’ Upon my knees And begged like child under Father For just one scoop On a hot day. I hear the truck And think this is the best business plan I’ve ever seen— the only thing it sells is frozen. Think how cold that truck remains all seasons Think that’s like my heart, it’s ice cream, Cold, All seasons, Gives and gives can’t have too much Or you’ll get sick, Can spread it out on a cold stone, It Tastes like battered. This heart, it’s icecream Rocky road And chipped Off Ripped off Melting Frozen Can forget about the pint-sized all the way there back behind the chopped ribs, legs, and peas for black eyes, The Butchered breasts. My freezer’s missing spoons. I tried to bend them— Just made crystal tears. I hear the truck. I hear the truck. Don’t know what to think, Just hear the truck.

More to come.

Come walk with me in moonlight feel the pregnant sky Hear the birth Just listen. Disclaimer: Explicit content. Trigger warning.

(Excerpt) Lyrics coming. This comes from my heart. Not a place of anger, but release. Is anger a feeling we should ignore and pretend does not exist? Should we deny it? Should we villanize it? Do past lives exist? What if you're the only one who remembers? Does it make you insane? What do you remember? Do your feelings make you crazy? Do your habits mean you are crazy? I ask these questions not only of myself but all of us. To what extent to our thoughts, words, emotions, behaviors/patterns, memories, actions, and aesthetics define who we are as people? Can you differentiate between them and you? Are they the same thing? With Unconditional Love. No despites, no respites, no buts. M(ad) F(ire). This name is going to take on a number of shorthands.

All that, the haze you’ve walked in, The clouds you’ve carried behind you like a red ballon, not knowing it was Eclipsing sun, You feel the bodies part, The waters part, The invitation. I walk in exodus, Down aisle made of ocean floor And rocky bottoms turned melting sand beneath my soles, I’m naked, waves held back on either side like curtains I’m coming Fuck the tiptoeing I’m pounding pavement, Onto homeland— The real one. The Pharaohs, they were never people, They are never people: They are phantoms, Phantasms and projections That we melt and meld to myth like solid odds and ends inside a cauldron, Often, You melt your parents’ wedding rings, gold tooth replacements for what you must remember once was a broken tooth to crown of gold upon your head, Your death right there in throne and scepter, Receptive to perspectives that don’t belong, Defector. If this is what it means to take direction of one’s life, To be your own Poseidon And not his servant, To let your lantern guide you Through high tides And stride forward in a fury, To bury what needs burying And let the phantoms go their ways, I hold my arms out to the waves and say I parted you Because I was ready. Passover 2020 style.