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I’m baaa-aaa-aaack!
I have been MIA but semi-living large for two months, and my view has been askewed.. Made terrible judgment calls on personal endeavors caught up in the wrong situation and giving way too much of myself to undeserving people. I lost focus on my drive, my closest people like real family and true friends, and let’s get back to the self again. I found my genuine self in shredding my blinded hope in others. The pain was excruciating rising above it. It’s what may aptly be called “growing pains.”
But at my age, I am not growing. I can change, but certain ways are set. Like me or leave me. Accept me or grieve me. I was born this way, I grew into who I am, and I love my idiosyncratic disorders. I’m finally learning the last lesson in internal self-mutilation. Never again does anyone get anything free from my loving compassion in return for dates and feeding frenzies. I was fed bullshit upon bullshit upon bullshit, distracted by enticing excursions, and misled to believe that everything was done for some kind of benefit. My heart nearly imploded by the last couple of week’s distress, but the cliche is true… “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Not that it’s as dramatic as that, but the transference of negative energy and vile behavior was potentially toxic and I ate it up like a dumbo buttercup.
My Spring from the point where I left off could have gone much more pleasant had I kept my eye on the prize… Me! I was a treasure opening up to only clam into a transmuted version of who I’m aiming to become now. Something got ripped from my bosom last week, and the old naivete is gone leaving in its wake a “No bullshit” and rock hard bad-ditude. If it smells or reeks of crap, I tune it out. My loving feeling is numbed out, and I just want to experience the seedy grit of life. I’m so effin’ tired of being the ‘good girl.’
Despite contrary opinion, I was as good as it got and did the best that I could in any situation. It is a shame how people force their transgressions into your guiltiness. My cup runneth over by those who berated my spirit.
I squashed a lot of my temptations though I did many things in these past months I am not proud of, and yet… I find how amazingly advanced I’d become compared to sad little reminders of a time when things were far more distorted and my self-image as well as perception on life was broken, and whatever I experienced recently only felt harsher because my perception’s enlightened. I see things that others can’t see, hear things that seem to be unspoken, and I especially feel things one would think the other doesn’t feel at all. What I do know is that I’m gonna’ break this all down one day, and it is not going to be pretty or kind.
In the meantime, I have to let my cryptic words let sleeping dogs lie.
Somehow in the the new whirlwind ready to spin me around a magnanimous frenzy to plant my feet firmly on the ground, I find myself eager to get out to NYC. I want to see my peeps in Jersey, the Brooklynites, and my Chelsea LES girls. Miami’s right around the corner. Where one trip failed so fantastically forward, two times the charmer takes its place. And when one man moves aside, a better one comes along to take his place. Or so it seems. Maybe two men and a minxy yogi masseuse-in-training. Even better, a resilient glorious Independent Me is…
Awakening!
Life
is
Good
now.
I got the power. It’s the power in me, restrengthened to overcome whatever obstacle. What’s done is done, and it ’tis what it motha’ fuckin’ is yo! Peace begins with ME!!!
Because I am
Something you oughta’ know
Dear Prudence, you’re beautiful
In other words, “leading on.” It takes two to tango and two players to sit at opposite ends of a chess board. There is an unparalleled deception on both sides. The tango has a deceptive quality about it. Where there is friction, a strong attraction can be disguised. Where there is intensity, a false chemistry can be hidden. Where there is body tension, a player can malign it with pretentious modesty. There is strategy yet there is reactionary flow.
In chess, you always try to avoid getting your Queen captured. She is the mightiest power beside the King. The King is weak without her. Your objective is to protect your Queen to save your King. Once you lose her, you either check yourself or ultimately get check-mated. I almost feel the worst position in this game is to be stalemated. At least with a check-mate, there is a clear and decisive winner and loser. In a stalemate, there is only limbo. I prefer to go for the jugular and check-mate or have my opponent entrap me making it seem like I lost the game by default.
Either way, nobody wins… unless you like to defeat and dominate. In the bigger scope of things, if you are a bully then you are the true loser in the end. Your surface domination is no better than anyone else’s, probably worse. What may have made you a valiant opponent turned out to be deceptive camouflage. Which would be more preferable? An obvious bully with machismo muscling or a cunning bully who plagues with his charm and allure? It is a beguiling tactic. Bullies are shallow. And with a shallow attitude, maybe karma will rear her ugly head. Maybe not. People unaware of their player status usually will deny their prowess, even to themselves.
To be a good tango partner, a woman’s role seems pretty clear. Follow his lead. The best way to show your strength is to let him think he’s leading but glide him to the contours of your motion and pressure him with your seductive symmetry. Lean into him to only maneuver your next best move. You are the ornament, the focal point of true desire. Next time you see a tango, keep in mind who holds your attention. Angelina Jolie was by the far the sexiest of the two, and any woman who denies that denies herself.
As for chess, the smartest player and the most beguiling strategist usually wins. Same premise may apply. There is trickery involved. You want to lead your opponent to their next move. Whoever controls the board has the upper hand. The moment you feel your moves are being guided, that is when the sinking feeling of defeat fills you up inside. You can either resign the second your consciousness wakes up to the truth or you can combat that defeatous bad-ittude with an optimistic drive to turn the game around.
In any aspect, it is optimal to be a good sport. Being competitive in nature should not warrant for ill-chosen jabs, but the sting of defeat is only best felt when you have not even begun to dance the way you wanted or play the game to the best of your ability. Yet, in these situations, your fate is not decided singly. You can have all the hope in the world that the one you choose for a partner will likewise want to partner up with you. If you have any pride in your dancing, you will not settle for anything less than being the only one he is expending his energy on. How best can you enjoy dancing if you cannot have the opportunity to shine with someone who pairs up to your flair?
Your outcome depends on the synergy or lack thereof in your tango partner. Your sympatico factor makes or breaks your cohesiveness. After the dance, you can both leave the dance floor hand-in-hand or walk off with your heads held high separating to opposite ends of the hemisphere. That is a tell-tale sign. Body language speaks volumes, yet even then — people will try to fake it ’til they make it. Why fool each other when you ultimately fool yourself? Why keep dancing with someone who disappoints you? As excruciating as it is to walk away from a talented Swan, you move aside to make room for a better dancer his end and he should move aside to allow a better dancer to move in on yours.
Give a proper shake or part with kind words — accept your chemistry is off — and find yourself another partner. Keep looking until you find the one who best suits your style, who will best compliment the fire in your heart, and one who is a truly caring as well as compassionate giver who will not abandon you on your first bad impression but will pick you up when you fall (especially if he was careless to drop you on your arse). If you want to champion something or find a champion to match your ambition, then you keep searching until you find an infallible connection.
An ideal partner puts your needs above his own knowing how your dancing will only improve if you are taken care of and properly motivated. He is forgiving of any errors in judgment and is willing to keep trying. He would not purposely hold you off or make you feel any less than you are. A dancer’s appeal is her achille’s heel. Her partner should protect her, guide her, and all his grace will be equally rewarded if the match is suitable.
If you do not like playing against your opponent, another smug bloke is right around the bend. There are plenty of snarky, intelligent mugs who have a creative streak and can entertain you as they stare you down across the table.
Be grateful to have played against even the most wickedly combative of opponents for they surely would have taught you what not to do in the future. They may even inspire you with sound advice and compliment your approach. A good opponent will raise your bar and change the standard of your game. It is better to be challenged and heightened to a stronger skill rather than be stuck at a level unbecoming of your vigorous nature.
I will never forget this comment that was a resounding theme years ago (possibly maybe from a Meshell Ndegeocello song), “You play yourself when you try playing.” I will piggyback that with my own spin. Another old adage rings true “O, what a tangled web we weave when we practice first to deceive.” We all do it, we all play. Depends how much we like it and how much we cannot get away from the webs we weave. As we mature, games become a lot less attractive than reality. Reality trumps when we realize how experiential life is far better than any game people play.
To all you players out there, buona fortuna!!!
I have laid down my King and concede to life. I choose Me 🙂
p.s. No love lost. Capiche?
— Spring —
Day One
— Summer —
Day Two
— the Fall —
Day Three
— bloody Winter —
Day Four
— At this moment —
Day Five
— Perhaps tomorrow —
Days Ahead
— Perhaps Today —
Dazed In Bed
As purely beautiful are sweet gestures, despite the longing for an imaginary possibility… the unknown kills my nourishment since I cannot close my eyes without thinking of what I do not have and what may rest with another. If somebody leaves you to pursue something else, should you feel the torment of letting go when you were the one left behind? Karma kicks the ass of the ignorant, but when awakened in pure enlightenment of self-love then (and only then) should letting go be the only choice for self-preservation. How can something so good feel so wrong? How can you move on when you are being strung along? Answers eventually reveal themselves when you least expect.
O incomparable Giver of life, cut reason loose at last!
Let it wander grey-eyed from vanity to vanity.
Shatter open my skull, pour in it the wine of madness!
Let me be mad, as You; mad with You, with us.
Beyond the sanity of fools is a burning desert
Where Your sun is whirling in every atom:
Beloved, drag me there, let me roast in Perfection!
– Rumi
There is nothing worse in this god forsaken romantic world that cuts knife slits through every corpuscle of my tattered heart than to ever deeply love a man with every beat of my fiber and have his love turn away from me, to Lord knows what. Heaven forbid the man who has stolen my heart find some other hearth to nestle in. What happens when you love somebody so much you desperately do the very thing to repel him in the act of letting go – that you suffer a fate crueler than losing his love, because somewhere in your sick mind you thought that his well being forced by your non-well being was the right thing to do? That letting him go for the sake of his delicate condition was far more a sacrifice than letting yourself go. Love will make you lose your mind and break your spirit, but love of Self will save you.
What happens when that which you love forsakes thy love boomeranging the same effectual response to those who want to love you? How can it be possible to reciprocate any affection to blinded suitors when all your essence to love resides somewhere in limbo thrown out into the universe from unwant? I made a pact over 15 years ago and was running strong to never again love a man who would not return my sweet treasure. I robbed myself and wander aimlessly without a clear head? It’s cruel and an unnecessary intention to torment the heart of a mourning woman.
But alas, who torments who?
C’est la vie … N’est pas? Oui!
365degrees2e 