"Cleaning house" or "the summer of my discontent" is what I'm calling it. It being these past few months of purging...purging...and more purging. Trying to remove all traces of fuckery from my life, whether it come in the form of people or situations. I tend to believe I'm not the only one...I've observed quite a few folks stirring awake. Like, "Now wait a fucking minute...this is my life." Realizing this old matrix ain't quite working as well as it used to. If it ever did.
These days I only want to align myself with fellow truth seekers; those that know the power of being still and when and how to move. Not ones stuck in the past, wracked with bitterness, ignoring their true purpose, not listening. Those types I stay as far away from as possible; damn psychic vampires. Employing frenemy tactics to get me to question self and stay on their level. Down there.
A) I can't recall the last time I allowed a mf to manipulate me; and B) Fuck that. I got shit to do - like birth this inner being that has been gestating for the past thirty years. Patiently waiting for me to "get it." Now indeed is the time. For old and useless things that no longer serve us to fall away. For you and I to go inside and muckrake and pressure wash the dirt done to and by us. Forgive we and them and keep that shit moving. Because that's really what it's about - letting go. And no it is certainly no walk in the park...in fact it hurts like hell. But youze a soldier so you can take it, right?
If not, then why the fuck are you reading this particular journal?
In other news, I have no idea what pheromone I'm producing, but I surely need to bottle and sell it to the chicks that are actually focused on mundane shit like - dick. 'Cause yo, dudes have been coming at me...left and right and sideways and creeping up from behind and all types of directions. And not on some yo baby shit. More like Destiny's Child circa 2004. Talking bout catering to a bitch. Me I'm reasonably attractive, but I promise at times it's beyond mere physicality. Mfs hovering around me like I hold the missing pieces of their life's puzzle in my aura. Crazy.as.hell. And QUITE the ego stroke.
But I ain't tryin to hear that shit. I turn them down politely and send them on their merry way. I love men, but I'm so weary of "adjustment periods." I will take spinsterhood over constant lectures about who I be, because even then they never quite get it. I will offer not one more make-up test.
Besides, if dudes found me difficult before, well then they would certainly find me damn near intolerable at this point. I hopped on the spaceship (no rearview mirrors) without bothering to ask anyone if it was ok; took a lil trip and came back weirder than ever. If any of these potential suitors knew what was good for them they'd turn tail and run. Past victims can vouch for me - I ain't exactly the chick you bring home to mama, much less tell your boys about...
Unless you actually like having your sanity questioned...by them AND you.
Posted by Lisa at September 4, 2007 01:36 AM