Ascendent aspect of Libra at Nero's arrival

The day Nero was enthroned, the sky of Rome was grey and heavy like lead.
The trigon of the Emperor was in Libra, but the planetary mansions didn't recognize it.

Most of the senators believed he was come from a distant world
all his servitors and the Roman population didn't just believe it: they were sure.

The infernal pomp of the coronation was graphically represented in the crimson carpets that covered the palace walls.
It was July, and the repugnant smells of the city inundated the hall, 111 naked eunuchs burned incense and myrrh around the immense throne, in order to the arrival of his galactic majesty: the Emperor, the one that cannot be touched by the wynds.

The arrival of Nero at the hall was black and terrifying, his movements were irrational

99 cymbals sounded at every step of the adolescent Emperor

99 bagpipers brought from Iberia and Gaul made the tall columns tremble with sustained drones

Claudia Octavia the Empress was there, it was her anniversary as well, she was 15 and was dressed with the skin of a leopard, a chain of pure gold with hanging penises of donkey adorned her white neck
her menstrual blood was dripping on the white marbled floor.

Meanwhile, out on the canicular and nasty streets of the Eternal City's noon, the common populace, the poor mob, rolled on the excrements of the miserable sidewalks, under a horrible sun, strait sidewalks full of deformed and crippled men, naked matrons and sweaty stallions at the gates of the temple of Venus.

The Roman dogs searched for water, and the prostitutes fucked with the men of Rome on every street.

The day passed by, lions were resting around the throne of his blond Majesty, the cryptic Pontifex Maximus:
Nero was seated on his throne of solid gold all night long, crowned in laurels and honey, cocksucked by 100 Vestals.
The heat in the hall was unbearable, the air was yellow, infested with flies flying around the hanging ivies...a chariot full of vipers was brought under the blinding light of the red candles, to celebrate the astrologic Parthian rite.

Then, as the nauseating dawn shows her rosy fingers on the horizon, as the daylight comes, your eyes adopt a strange look.
In the blood of the Emperor, it is in the blood of the Emperor.
Eastern haplogroup; shape of things to come: invert the photograph and you'll have a half of the answer.

If you've got some faith.


But faith: what is faith?



The day Nero was enthroned, the satellitiums were trine, heavy like lead.
The trigon of the Emperor was in Libra, but the Gemini's meridian didn't understand it.