I do not like it when I am in the position I am currently in, when the universe hurls its messages like incoming spears, one after another, you cannot evade them, you cannot pretend you are not receiving them, even when you do not wish to receive them, even when you do not like the messages! To actively choose to ignore the messages would be to choose to be stuck, to choose atrophy over growth, and yet one does not want to do what the universe is signaling it is necessary to do! That is a hard position to be in! I am in it. Every signal from the universe, and they are coming in fast, tells me it is time to move, but moving in Los Angeles in these times is very difficult to do, there are not many places to move to, and those numbers of places significantly decrease when one's needs include studio space, and when one is old enough that one cannot just live in any space. In the old days, in Los Angeles, it was not like this, but these are not the old days anymore, they are the new days when housing is scarce and unaffordable. It is not because I have some whim to move that I am in this position—I have a whim not to move. I do not want to move! But what to do about all these spears piercing my body, stabbing the messages into me, soaking them in my blood, what about those? If I ignore them (and, really, how can I?), is that not an insult to the gods who sometimes take their trouble to tell us things? The gods do not like to be insulted! And I do not think they are nice enough to actually put the place I should move to in my path, although I won't say they're not nice enough, because maybe they are, and I would not want to insult them in that way either. I am scrupulous in trying to do the right thing, but I am also childish in trying to get out of having to do it. These two instincts turn me into something of a scarecrow, or a woman felled by spears but still breathing, her eyes in wide rapport with the skies.