The ladies have released their anger

I was reading the other day and came across this,
I do not hasten to be angry for anger rests in the bosom of fools.
I had to laugh.  But I also must confess.
This rage has been pulsing through my veins so greatly you could say my boobs have been angry somethin' fierce.
(Loose interpretation, but you get the point).

'Slow to anger 'is not easy.
Especially if you feel you've been had by the same person in the same way more than once.
Or twice.
Or Lord have mercy, I've lost count it keeps on happening.

How then could I not get mad?

I'm an honest person.  I expect others to be equally honest with me. 
You need to tell me something?  By all means.  Please pay me the courtesy of the truth and tell me. 
You hate my stinkin' guts?  Then be a man and share your mind.  With me, that is.  Not the minions you tell one thing and then the other lies you tell only moi. 
You have intense feelings for me you pretend don't exist?  Well you better take a good look at 'em and realize it's your own Narcissism you're in love with.  So get it together and realize the things that don't bring you peace aren't from God.
And who wants stuff that's not from God?
Something tells me it will only end in tears.

It always magnifies anger within me ten fold when I feel my life is repeating itself.
It's like, didn't I already head down this street?
Did I really forget the street dead ends just past the castle?

I think one thing we so often overlook when we're angry is that we're not merely mad at the offender.  We're mad at our own gullibility in falling for the same old trick we'd already survived and freed ourselves from.  Sometimes I think I must be like poor ol' Wile E Coyote thinking this time's gonna be different and I will stop the Road Runner and have it for my very own.  And yet I always manage to be the one with an anvil landing on my head.

No wonder I got so damn crabby.

Anvil induced migraines do not go with my vintage hats.

But I don't wanna be a fool.
I wanna be slow to anger and quick to forgive.
I wanna believe the best even when all evidence points to the likelihood that Prince Charming is actually an egomaniacal-two-faced-user-abuser-extraordinaire and I'm the schmuck Jesus would talk about in a parable so as to incite what NOT to do.

But I refuse to accept the selfishness behind gestures disguised in loving acts.

I will not let this anger rest in my bountiful bosom.
I think they're just peachy on their own.

And they say Chivalry's dead

I have a new prince in my life.
Well, he may be a bit young to yet be a prince.
I suppose then he is a duke.

I have to say I was initially wary of spending time with him.  Under my recent circumstances I'm wary of men in general.  Sorry boys, you know I love you dearly, but I've been kicked in the gut just a few too many times as of late and as such I've become like a paranoid android who was recently held at gun point: I dart my head side to side like some tropical bird waiting for some attacker to jump out of the bushes.

It sounds silly but I actually find it off putting now when I feel a man is leering at me.  I used to delight at any sort of attention a man threw my way.  Snaps for me!  He's savvy enough to appreciate how gorgeous I am!  But now I feel so distrustful, I just want to be left alone.  I'm not sure I've ever felt like this before.  But it certainly makes me one of the minority who actually enjoy their life as a Singleton.

But this duke, he just wanted to spend time with me.  We just talked.  Do you remember what that's even like to be around someone of the opposite where you just share stories and enjoy each others company?  No ulterior motives.  No hidden agenda.  No false intentions.  No saying I'm not the one and then pinning me against the wall with kisses.

It was just...nice.  He's good people.  It was an unexpected treat to have company with someone who didn't make me nervous or make me doubt who I am.

Maybe for some of you you're thinking what's the big deal? 
But I don't have guy friends. 
None. 
And when I do finally seem to find a friend it never lasts. 
And no, it's not because I always end up kissing them.

Though that's a big part of it.


I think this duke was brought into my life to remind me that men like him do indeed exist and are not merely urban legends.

He hardly knows me and he made a lovely cheese pizza, just for me, because he knew I was sad about everything and he wanted to cheer me up.
And when we ordered our drinks he paid for mine but acted like it was no big deal.
When we were outside for a time I hadn't said or done anything to complain but he just, out of the blue, put out his cigarette and said, You're getting cold.  Let's get you inside.
And when I told him a little of all that's been going on he said it sounded like I was doing all the right things, all I could do in the situation.
You're such a sweet girl, don't worry, he encouraged me.

It all probably sounds so simple but it was somehow everything I needed in that moment.

I hadn't even realized I'd grown so wary of others.  I've become someone who'd rather just be alone if I can't be around those few I really trust.  That's probably part of the reason I wasn't eager to go on that second date.  There are so many folks out there who sadly just want to take something from you.  And having the kind of nature that wants to give all it can to help another or make them happy makes me vulnerable to those who would abuse such generosity.  Sometimes it's too late before I feel the affects of giving away all too easily so much of myself.  Suddenly I'm left feeling like all these tiny holes have been punched out of me but no one is around mending them or filling them with their love.

I'm done cutting myself up for those who leave me with nothing to hold onto.

This Reese is not up for the taking, contrary to popular belief.
Get yourself a blow up doll and you can use and abuse her all you like.
And she won't even get lippy when you cross a line.
She'll just look back at you with vacant eyes.

And you can wish and you can fantasize.
But the eyes you  look into will never again be mine.

I'll take lies he told me for 500, please

It baffles me how people I don't know, people I don't even particularly care for possess a power to rattle me.

 I saw a friend the other night I hadn't seen in months.  We had worked together and she had been there for quite some time and as such was quite loved.  When people like you they will tell you things.  They'll reveal little nuances about themselves and sometimes say more than they ought to.  And my sweet little friend's ears have endured an ongoing diatribe on one topic in particular: Yours Truly.

It seems I am oh so very important!  How lucky for lil' ol' me!  Even after months have passed I'm still the hot topic on everyone's lips.  Why thank you ever so!  Apparently they all really have nothing more happening in their lives than the scandals of this irresistible goddess.  Perhaps their ongoing fascination of all I was involved in, their need to discuss it at great lengths is really a reflection of their desire to be involved in something so titilating and exciting themselves.

Hmm. 
But maybe I'm hitting too close to home on that one?
I'll just come back to that.

There were two parts of my friends story that were shocking:.  One was the accurate details of my personal life Mr. Pastor knew about. (Yes, the one who is slandering me more than nearly anyone else, other than perhaps The Ogre, is a pastor.  Let us all take a moment and pray a protective prayer over any of the unfortunates who are counseled by this so called "man of God."  A man of god I might add who gossips and slanders God's children rather than show love and compassion toward them; a man who steals from his work place but considers the sins of others unforgivable because he's blinded to his own...but I digress).

Mr. Pastor revealed to my friend such intimate details that I hadn't even told my closest girlfriends about which means he heard them all from one source and one alone.  My jaw simply fell open upon hearing her repeat the details.  I couldn't believe they were being discussed.  And altered, I might add. 

You want to brag to all your homeboys about how you scored with me?  Go right ahead, honey.  I know my notch in your bed post was a HUGE deal to you.  But you're going to lie about what transpired?  Oh-hoh-ho, I don't think so.  Why don't you put on your big boy pants and take ownership for your own idiotic choices.


Match.  Point.

Mr. Pastor not only spent an odd amount of time discussing me with my friend but she said he kept making these comments that made her feel like he seemed to have his own hidden issues.  Did you know he's getting unemployment now and getting more money than he did when he was working?  Maybe I should have an affair!  Mr. Pastor shared.  My friend said she just frowned at him and he chuckled, Oh I'm just kidding!

Yeah.  Surely.  Hardy har har.  And how does that proverb go....out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks?  So what comes out of us is already in us to start with?  Hmm.  Oh, but you're just talking obsessively on these various topics that don't involve you to catch up with your dear friend. 

I see it all too clearly now.

Well, God is a god of justice and He will surely deal with this hypocrite accordingly. 
God speed, Mr. Pastor.  May you truly learn a renewing compassion and tender love for mankind once God has shattered your hubris and broken you down so he can rebuild you.

Good. Times.

The other thing that was surprising to me was how greatly this passive, short lived friend of mine came to my defense with the several people she said were slandering me.  The Ogre told her, I hate her because she ran off the nicest person I know to Alaska.  You can't get further away than Alaska.  And my friend responded by telling The Ogre, When I was sad and lonely in Maryland, she was the only person calling me, writing me, sending me a care package for my birthday.  You couldn't even write a card to put in the care package!  The Ogre, quick to his own defense responded, Well, that's because it was from her. 

I just laughed.  Because I'm the Devil.  And if the Devil is doing something loving then obviously he couldn't participate.  Because, well, I'm so very evil, of course.

It's nice to know that while men think they're stronger than women physically, that they excel above us intellectually, that we're the weaker sex, that we need relationships and they do not, yet when it comes to choices in their lives, with their own actions, they suddenly declare themselves too weak to decide and blame any choices made on the influence of women.

I had no idea I was so very powerful over so many poor, weak minded, unsuspecting B-O-Y-S.

Maybe I can start a club and teach women how to harness their inner wiles for evil and move the puppet strings on the men unfortunate enough to cross their paths.

Or maybe I can laugh that so many "men" are really insecure, little boys who need me FAR more than I ever needed them.

Let us remember who pursued whom.
Who mounted whom.
Who is STILL pursuing whom.

What is final statements for 500.

P-L-E-A-S-E.

Thoughts on how you can be less of an asshole

When you want to justify your own agenda cite a book or a friend don't say "God told me" this or that.  It makes you sound like a pretentious ASS.  And you can't hear from someone you don't know.

Don't move again.  Once a year is far too frequent.  I'm sure the people around you love having you there. Really.  So why disappoint them?

Get over your obnoxious obsession with stevia.  Just be a man and drink your damn tea straight.  Or have some honey, for crying out loud.  Stevia is for wackadoos.  Wack-a-doooos.

Stop blaming the fact you're sexually repressed on women.  Just come out of the closet.  The lighting will be much better on you out there, I PROMISE.

Become a hare krishna.  They seem very peaceful.  And I bet all that fabric would be very becoming on you.

Join the peace corps.  Think of all the world you could see!  For all those years.  For a long, loooong time...


Join a monastery.  Then you will have lots of brothers to confide to the next time you "hear" from God.

Learn a new tactic in addition to your old standby, passive aggressive.  Try aggressive aggressive.  People wouldn't know what to think.  Maybe it would even help with that repression.

Just a suggestion.


Disclaimer: this blog was written for entertainment purposes only and was not meant to be taken literally.  Those affiliated with any of the above finding themselves referenced should understand the jest behind the suggested actions.
And if you're wound too tight to not withstand a good ripping then perhaps you should refer back to item four and deal with the real root of your rigidity.
Nuff said.

I hope you enjoy this

Tonight I was reminded of the truth.

There is a fine line between reality and the illusions we accept as something substantial.
A voice of reason shattered the delusions I'd been holding onto for some time now.

They say character is what you are in the dark.
What if what you are has two faces?
The one you show the world and the one you reserve for someone in secret?
Which is the hologram, then, the Jekyll or the Hyde?

I've decided I really no longer give a damn.

The truth has set me free.

Kyrie Eleison.  Kyrie Eleison.  Kyrie Eleison.

I learned tonight that once again someone who was telling me one thing, whose ongoing attempts to express some kind of affection were all a ruse and that those closest to him, those he fellowships with are being told versions of the fairytale that reveal his actual contempt for the princess.

I thought the man who hated his love for me moved to the mountains.
But apparently he cloned himself and habitates right here in the suburbs.
Lock your doors, folks, no one is safe.
Nothing is sacred.

I haven't had to be reminded of such slander in a long time.  And hearing it all again tonight reminded me of how many times in so many ways with my countless efforts I have tried to free myself from such toxicity.  But try as I might, be I bitchy, indifferent, loving, unresponsive NOTHING. ENDS. THE. MADNESS.

Am I to spend the eternity of my existence receiving random letters, texts, emails, gifs from someone who continues to declare to the world how wretched I am?


But he wants me to think, what?
That all the hateful things he whispers over beers to his bros are a cover for his ongoing love for me?


Love does not say one thing but think another.
Love leaves you the hell alone when it no longer instills anything in you but pain.

I was so happy until I heard from this false prince charming.
He really is quite a vile man.
And he truly delights in the inconsistency that is his life.
And now his two great loves see him for all he is not.
How lucky for him.

Do you know I actually hope he does show his face again.
Just so he can see first hand the hate seething in these eyes.

His greatest fear has been realized: I view him now with the contempt I'd previously reserved for the lost boy.  He is equally deceptive, slanderous, a coward and a liar.

Except he's worse.
Because I really believed his lies.
I really believed he was different.

So he can continue to pour over his computer, alone in the dark and long for the days when this goddess believed the lies that he was something more than a regret, a mistake I'd undo if I only had the chance.

Sweet dreams, fallen prince.
I pray I will be freed from this demon once and for all.

Um. Whoops.

So I unintentionally typed out this url that clearly was not the url I meant to type.

I was looking up a friends blog and mispelled one word.
And this is what I was directed to.



To tell you the truth, I deleted this site a long time ago, I dont know how you continually see it. Oh well. I love you honey, for now and forever. And anyone that doesnt believe me can run off and die. And I hope that you love me to, because I wouldnt be able to live without you, Katie. I know I wrote some stupid shit on this site, and I assure you that I didnt mean any of it. It was a long time ago, so please forgive me baby. I truly do love you. And I'll see you tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day...
Good luck with the PSP thing! Love ya!



Um.
I just don't even know what to say in response to that.

But it kind of makes me feel dirty for having a blog.

Shudder.

The words we never speak

Life isn't always what one likes, is it?

No. 'Tisn't.


I love 'Roman Holiday'.

It never ceases to get me all choked up at the end when Audrey Hepburn gazes at Gregory Peck from across the room and his eyes well up fighting back the tears.  And the way they look at each other communicates such love but they say so little.  In fact the words that are uttered between them are formalities for all the people surrounding them.  And all they're really communicating is through the way they look at each other.

Yes, even as a writer I can admit there are some things words fail to say.


I feel really silly admitting this but I totally cyber stalked somebody tonight.

And I'd really like to say I'm far above such juvenille activities especially as I approach my thirtieth year. 
But in my defense it was someone I don't talk to, that I haven't seen in what feels like a life time and if curiosity killed the cat then all I have to say for myself is, Meow.

I'm really glad I saw what I did, though.

I felt like I got to understand a little bit more about the things I'll never understand.
And in some new-age-technology-based-isolated-separated-sort-of-way, I felt connected to the person.
And that was nice.

And then I saw something that brought a little welling to my own eyes.

On my birthday, over ten weeks ago, they had made their status, Happy Christmas and Merry Birthdays!
And I knew that was for me.
That tiny, asinine, seemingly inconsequential thing.

But I knew better.

And people don't do things they don't want to do.
Especially when they have no idea that you'll ever know about it.
Which, I think is why it felt so special.

I stumbled on a little cyber sentence, a tiny phrase in the vastness of the web, that revealed a great deal more than I'd imagined.

And it was nice, for a moment, to hear something they could never say.