Imagine... The Sagittarius effect
You just woke up! It was 8:40 on your birthday. The exact time you were born. You got up. There was a flight to Italy for you to take! To surprise your sweet bff for his birthday tomorrow!
You met like 3 years ago when you were on a trip to Italy. You were in desperate need of food, you hardly spoke Italian, and the boy in the shop barely knew the existance of English. Not to mention your mother tongue. You were starving struggling to explain you needed food. And then, from the nothing he appeared. He asked if you were needing help, his English was a lot "broken" but you manage to explain you were there for food. He handled the situation even paid for your food. As a thank you he insisted on your company for his walk. You spend like 5 hours walking and talking. Using Google Translate to manage to communicate quite often, but it was fun. In the afternoon, when people came out on the streets and weird glances were given your way, you excuse yourself for your poor look, but he explained he was the reason for the attention. He happened to be famous. A designer. Fashion worker, so to say, to be precise, part of the Gucci guild. Yeah... Same "Gucci" famous shit you couldn't stand. Because you are Sagittarius, and this means nothing to people who doesn't know any; but for those who do.... It ment painfull honestly. You throw your opinion at him. Not quite knowing what will come out of your mouth. But at the end he was thrilled and flattered by your honesty. The next day he took you to all the cool places, having the privilege to be let in, in not to mainstream places, because you were with him.
After this your friendship grew more elaborate. You used to call each other, write at least once a day. You become each other's beamsties!
That was the reason you wanted to surprise him, arranging everything with his assistants. You landed at 3 in the afternoon, and the preparations started. Lately he was beyond busy. He only asked for "when and where" upon his meetings. And his alone time in the car while traveling to the needed place was his only free time.
He was supposed to stop at a fresh bar, to grab a juice. As it was still your birthday, he stopped by to grab a drink - beet root fresh juice. He hated that shit, but it reminded him of you, so it was his way of celebrating. He just paid for his drink, and tastes it. On the reflection in the glass you could see his disgusted face, he really hated this. He was about to turn around when you poked him. He jumped and when he saw you he started screaming, so did you. As your people, Italians, Spainis and Frenchmen were famous with the warmest greetings, you just hugged each other and started jumping like retards. You exchanged "Italian greeting" kisses. He informed you he was already late for dinner meeting, but after this he was all yours. You laughed saying you are his dinner meeting, thanks to his assistants. He was so happy, you could swear there were tears in his eyes.
You got in the car and the driver was pointlessly driving in the city. Rome was amazing at this time if the year. You congratulate him on the "no animal furr" initiative. You were so proud. He kissed your hand and said his bffs inspired him to do so.
You had a lovely dinner and took a last walk before going home. He had to share his excitement with the world, without letting them know the reason, so he just did the most harmless thing.
You arrangend a meeting for tomorrow afternoon, as he was busy even on his own birthday.
You woke up, his place was beyond amazing, although he rarely used it, mostly sleeping in his office. Typical workaholic! The place was a wreck! Both too much and too perfect. The living room was beyond creepy!
All these paintings and picture staring at you. The other room was as full of art as the rest.
You remember the red cushion. He called you for advice in how to make it. It was your favourite piece of the place. Although you had enough time to look it all.
The outside was amazing too. A huge garden for you to wander. You heard some noices.
Oh... Big, fat and mostly fluffy parrots. This was the garden where they took the pictures for "In Bloom". Amazing, was the only word running through your mind. It was all beyond art with him. That was the reason you don't stay with him more than a day or 2. You were too... Simple for his magical world.
There was a huge Gucci bag in the kitchen... It must be for you, since there in no one else there.
As you opened it, there was the most amazing scarf inside. Scarfs were your thing indeed. And Ale knew it. You squealed like little bitch and hugged it. It was made of so gentle material.
You ate, took pictures in the house, the garden, library... His library is a motherfucking piece of art!
You went out, meeting him in his office, you talked, laughed. You gave him his present - silver bracelet with "Sagittarius" constellation.
As it was time for dinner you get down to take a selfie with the "In Bloom" poster.
When outside waiting for the car, you saw him, but he wasn't alone. There was a man with him. Tall and skinny, with a huge beard and icy blue eyes. He smiled when he saw me, and winked at Alessandro.
- So...? - the stranger said.
- Jared, I want to introduce you to my best friend, Angel! - he pointed at you proudly.
- Hi! - I awkwardly waved. He came and hugged me. Who the hell was this. He was talking something with my bff, calling him "his" bff.
- Listen here, boy! - I yelled - Ale is my bff, so better be careful! - I waved my finger at him. He looked at me and simply smiled. As so Ale.
- What? - I asked.
- I knew, Lallo since... A long time ago, actually. I was here this afternoon when you were gossiping in his office, and I am totally blown away by you! - he blinked.
Me and Ale just laughed. He looked hypnotized by my looks, which wasn't something much, but...
We had a dinner reservation in Ale's favourite restaurant. His bff offered me his hand to hold while getting in the car. He spend all night talking to me, asking stuff. I was... Dealing with art. Not that I can call writing stories "art" but still, Ale was amazed. I even red them some of the new ones. The were indeed impressed. We talked Ales's art. It turned out Jared is a musician, we talked music too. At 12:15 we left the restaurant. This Jared person was all brainwashed by me, which I took as a joke at first, but I wasn't that sure right now.
As we got at the car, he sit across if you and kept staring.
- What the fuck in wrong with him?
- He is in love with you, as he was with me as we first met! It's the Sagittarius effect! - Alessandro winked and laughed.
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I just want to clarify something about the satanic temple and religious abortion rights:
What ISN'T true: asserting that you have the right to abortion via the satanic temple's religious abortion ritual will immediately grant you access to an abortion if you are seeking one
What IS true: the satanic temple is currently suing for its members to have access to abortion, citing religious freedom as a valid exemption from abortion bans
Whether or not you support the satanic temple is your choice, but I don't think it's right to discourage people from using religious freedom as a valid criticism against abortion bans.
It's true that they have tried this approach before and didn't succeed, but they've revised their strategy so that they'll have more solid ground to stand on. They previously sued for one of their pregnant members to have a religious exemption from an abortion ban because of the satanic temple's tenet of bodily autonomy, but the case was dismissed when she was no longer pregnant. This is why the satanic temple created the idea of the religious abortion ritual.
You can read more about the satanic temple's legal battles in the article that this screenshot is from.
Again, this lawsuit and future ones will be an uphill battle, but having a defeatist attitude about the religious freedom argument for abortion access accomplishes nothing.
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If you ever feel bad about procrastinating, just know that even Mozart was a procrastinator:
“Listening to the opening of Don Giovanni, you’d never guess that this amazing piece of music was the ultimate rushed job. With the last rehearsal completed, Mozart was reminded that he had yet to write an overture for the opera. Mozart and his wife drew up an emergency plan: to keep him working through the night, she would sit beside him, ply him with punch to keep his morale up, and read him folk tales to keep him alert. And so, as Constanze recited the stories of Aladdin’s Lamp and Cinderella, Mozart began to create the overture to Don Giovanni. Eventually, however, weariness overcame him, and he curled up on the sofa, asking Constanze to wake him in one hour.
Doubtless owing to the punch he’d drunk, Mozart slept more soundly than he’d anticipated, and Constanze left him for an extra hour. Mozart woke at five o’clock with more than half the piece left to write, and yet two hours later the fully orchestrated overture was in the hands of the copyists -- and it took them longer to transcribe the manuscript for the orchestra members than it had taken Mozart to write it in the first place. And so it was that, as the opera house filled to capacity behind them, the musicians were handed their parts with the ink still wet on the paper, and then commenced to play an overture they had never seen before.”
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