At the moon chime, sleep gave way to dreaming. Last night I found myself wandering back through time. Having laid my body down, my soul slipped out to set sail on the old currents that still sometimes lap at my shore.

The rampant revolutionising of life and love paired with the gentle oblivion of the far end of the zodiac demands mutiplicity but it is a slippery sucker to hold. Its pretty fleeting fish swim in two different directions. Hope defies certain death. Grief mingles with joy in brackish water. The future is a promised land just over a border we can feel but can't see.

Depth charge, anyone? Pisces season arrives now, inconveniently ensconced between the Aquarian search party on the hunt for something truer and Aries' cauterising of the old world in service of the future. Resilience building in the grift betwixt all the 'cides colliding and oblivion. The ever present threat of delusion and subtefuge disturbing what once passed for peace.

The Pisces new moon is a scrying pool that keeps its secret magics hidden in the plainest sight. But you must journey to reach them, tucked in amongst the cliffs at the far end of the zodiac.

Welcome to the deep darklings, as the sun leads the charge out of the gates of Aquaria. Venus will follow into Pisces next week though the vibe of the dive remains distinctly Aquarian. Not drowning, transmogrifying.

Musing on time travel as the multiverse conspires once more to shift its space time disco through our lives. Perhaps it is the glut of spare days or the slower pace that immobility affords but my forward motion has stilled. In its place are long moments of contemplation, an abyss of ideas that I have until now simply leaped over in my hurry to get to the imaginary line I have drawn in the future.