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Cornell William Titus(765)




Born: Friday 13th January 1995 at 13:00 - Johannesburg, South Africa Capricorn, Lifepath Number: 11/2; Destiny Number: 22/4; Maturity Number: 33/6. Triangle of Enlightenment.

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Cabal of Collective Consciousness

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“And in the calmest and most stillest night, with all appliances and means to boot, deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down! Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown” – William Shakespeare

What is the worth of expectation? How much weight does foreshadowing carry? How far is the reach of a dream? How deep is your desire for delayed rewards? How crafted is your will, that you can place all confidences within this expectation?

Times of late simply have been the exact order disrupting, chaos creating and opportunity providing moments that demand those exact questions of our fortitude. As a need for survival, we have had to become suspicious, closed off and separated from those very markers in life which externally let us know. How we are calibrated. Our “order: chaos” balance. We have had to take a forced pause. Ripped out of our momentum, and stuffed away as old toys and winter linen are. It is no shame to be feeling out of sorts.

The devil makes work for idle thumbs! We all have been victim to this statement, with the overwhelming need to be useful. To remain as we were. To hold space, to not touch. Until, and only, until we are allowed to again. A bit like a child promised more marshmallows, provided they do not eat the marshmallow in front of them. How torturous. It is only later in life where the child will learn that if you are to wait too long for the promised or expected abundance in marshmallows. You might find yourself as a waiting fool. Duped by the tardiness of bated breath. Expectant on something deeper than expectation alone is what is called for. It is no longer simple enough to call our days as we used to. Our collective consciousness is now forever geared at understanding our surroundings as contaminated spaces. Worse than before. Being more than 100m from a rat is the last thing on our minds now. It’s the person standing too close which has our focus now. Oddly ques are longer.

So with this blockade of creativity and external psychological markers. We have begun picking away at the scabs in our lives. Flicking away at the fragile flakes that line partially healed wounds. Preening and prodding, particularly at our perceived insecurities. It is rare that even those used to comfort and safety are visibly grateful for their fortunate place in life. The plight of those with nothing or less than nothing is a distant cry. Now we each are to be concerned with our own homes. The frustration of lacking in functionality is a feeling more are familiar with than before.

It has been a time where the chaos has now entered the mundanity of our lives. The areas where chaos is minimally suspected or even indirectly envisaged. Or, areas of decompression, that are needed to maintain our reasons for having our said order. I mean, even the best functional alcoholic will still endeavour to be at work come Monday morning, so the Sunday drink is tapered off earlier to accommodate this. The areas we so thought were untouchable, or so wholesome, have been pointed out as the main causal factor for a global health pandemic. Hugs have become risky behaviour.

In essence, we have been disallowed our ability to use the very thing which binds us all together. The need to be agreed with. Our collective acceptance that we are of good use. A bar and a church, more so on the first Sunday, tend to be of a similar vein. In that, there is a collective conscious agreement into what each of us is there to find. In our workplaces and sports teams, we share a common goal. A collective ideal. The achievement of this common ideal is dependent thus on the roles we agree to play for one another. If, we do this well we are usually validated. High fives too are now classed as a social no go.

We miss that sense of connectedness and head nod understanding that we previously had. Gone are the days where the escalator was the grimiest place in the shopping mall. Everything that we base our understanding on. All of those normal, perfect conditions, are shattered. It is understandable that in our efforts to avoid chaos during these interesting times, we seem to be in the state of hypervigilance, partnered with the inability to actually do anything about it. It is thus why we ask the questions, it is this very moment which demands a belief or expectation that can withstand foreign influences.

What is the worth of expectation? How much weight does foreshadowing carry? How far is the reach of a dream? How deep is your desire for delayed rewards? How crafted is your will, that you can place all confidences within this expectation?

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