Oh Justus

Oh Justus, you're as shallow as they come, adorned in expensive clothing, spouting your favourite words. You're like keys on a piano - your range falls on specific notes while others are left untouched and therefore, forever to remain flat. How can you not see that?

Oh wait a minute. It's not your fault...that you also can't hear. Some of us just have to tolerate the fact that we can, and think of spells to chant to protect ourselves from people like you.

That little angel you seem to worship, oh my, the joke's on you, I suppose. Because you know, you've been doing the bad angel's bidding and this little demon, well, he doesn't care about you. It's not in his nature to. But you Justus, maybe there's still a chance for you. Though something tells me you're so crystallized in your thinking, there's no way the light can get through.

Maybe you like doing the devil's work? I hadn't thought of that. Do you know how shallow you have to be, to be in the business of buying beauty? Do you know how empty you have to be, to hook up with a man like you? A man who chases superficial beauty and money, a man whose made them, his gods? A materialist who can only attract superficial beauty? Talk about poverty. I feel sorry for you. Because I have the eyes to see and the ears to hear.

There is no Jesus in your equation, Justus. No Buddha. No Gandhi. No Mother Mary. No Mother Teresa. 

Oooh, but, there's Donald. Really, Justus? And salivating dogs. Men who only carry swords and yet, ironically, don't know how to use them, properly, with dignity and integrity. They are boys who can only ever pretend.

Sure, you're most definitely a success if being a hardcore capitalist, is all you aspire to. In my world, in the real world, you're really a slave.

You seem not to know what a quality lady is either. Because a quality lady would never allow herself to be demeaned by such filth! And if a woman wants a man with money who can lavish her with gifts and take care of her, so be it. She lacks the kind of brains which makes it possible for people like you to buy her. Let like attract like. I can sympathize with her, but only to a point and no more.

I might have sympathized with the white man, too, but my sympathy is overshadowed by your double-standards, Justus. One-sided monogamy? P l e a s e. You're no king, you and your flashy cars and vacant homes. I wonder what they'll find behind the curtain when it's all said and done.

Show me a quality man among you. He does not exist and nor shall you produce one. And you think you're doing the Lord's work?! Any boy who idolizes you is going to become just as depthless as you are now. I'm no feminist but I am a warrior! 

I don't consider myself beautiful, though my husband thinks I am. I never wanted children. I knew that when I was 10 years old. I've got depth and an inner world no one will ever taint or maim, not with their pointy words. Because I've got a kind of armor that serves to protect me. And I'm also a rose with thorns. It's in my nature to wound should you mean me harm. It's in my nature to protect and guard my bush.

You have a kind of armor that you'll need lifetimes to chisel away at. Who are you, Justus? You're only producing more angry men with armors and amantes. Oh, I like a strong man, don't get me wrong. But, he's got to be a lion who can let a maiden tame him. You don't have that kind of surrender in you...that kind of surrender that would open up the real world in all its glory. That's too bad.

Oh Justus, what a shame you will never live up to your name! Ego becomes you. Congratulations?

Signs

I think of you often. I try not to, you know? But, purple monkey is always around. I distract myself by watching movies or engaging in creative work and then suddenly, gravity pulls me back to a whole bunch of unanswered questions.

I'm having a hard time accepting I'll never have them. I could ask you though, couldn't I? But, the risk is too great. I'd be opening up pandora's box. I'm not ready for the opening of the floodgates. I don't think I ever could.

The resistance is strong, too. This pendulum keeps swinging and never quite settles long enough in the middle. Yet, the middle holds its own truths. It's quiet, less dramatic, routine-like...boring.

Because generally, I'm okay with silence. It's my home, my sanctuary. And now, when I retreat back to myself, I find you there. So what can I do? Tell me what to do? Pretend that I need you. Pretend that I want you to tell me how to navigate this. Decide for me. Take a chance. Do all those things I can't manage to do.

Yet, I see that I actually don't want you to do any of these things. You'll take me away from the center again to an extreme. I don't exist well in extremes or ultimatums...even over the top, excitement. My heart can't handle it. Every high has a low and if I'm too high, I'm already programmed to anticipate the blow of the low.

You and I must be alike. So continue to stay in your lane. I'll continue to stay in mine. It's not your fault you failed to read the signs along the way. It's not my fault I know when to be stoic.

No Jesus In Their God

Is it Menopause talking? I can't be sure. Maybe this is just who I am...painfully, real.  I can't seem to help it. I can't seem to shake this sorrow that I realize, connects me to the world. How can it not?

May the evil ones pay and pay with all they have, which on some level, isn't much at all, if you know what I mean. They've got no souls. When their comeuppance arrives to greet them, it will be just and swift, like an orgasm, powerful and short-lived.

When they dragged Mussolini out into the streets, that's exactly what was called for, exactly what he deserved. All falls are brutal, some more than others. Some not quite as satisfying as others. But, it's a fall, nonetheless, and a sure thing.

What's happening right now at this time and in the way in which it is happening and in the way in which most people refrain from speaking out against the atrocities, is a reflection of the human psyche. We should all be ashamed as we go about living our lives...because, you know, what can little ole me do? 

We've reached an all time low when some people are labelled anti-semitic because they're outraged and heartbroken over the brutal deaths of innocent Palestinians at the hands of disgusting and vile human beings - no matter their religion or cultural background. Got that? Any person who takes offense over what I just wrote says more about them - and not in a flattering way whatsoever - than it ever will about me. Being offended is the problem! It has no place here!

We can't even be civil to eachother on a small scale. I mean, give me a break, we have no say over what happens. We are powerless because we are shameless.

If you think for one second life was about achievements, status and money, you've only been living within a capitalist construct. Success is a capitalist idea. Trump is a greedy monster, a devil disguised as some angel who claims to be doing God's work. And maybe he is...except he can't be because there is no Christ in his God. His God is not my God...and nor, should he be yours.

Trump and his goons are in it for the oil, not for the people. They do not cater to any of the people - either in their own country or abroad - except for the twisted, the greedy and the shameless.

Why do people forget? There can only be one bad guy and he only shares the stage with another bad guy in so far as he can be sure to get what he wants from him. Any so called alliances between the wicked inevitably fail because there can only ever be one star, one superstar. And his ego is so big and so devouring, the followers, at some point, feel the sting of the scorpion when they are discarded like the trash they are. Narcissists have perfected the trait.

When these dirty men fall, what will happen to his goons? Who will accept them? They'd better run or ask for forgiveness. But don't be surprised if they're dragged out into the streets too because some people are hungrier than others for vengeance. These horrible individuals will have provided the avengers all the ammunition they need to carry out the fall. How ironic, don't you think? 

It'll be their fault because they inadvertently, paved the way for their fall to occur. If people thought far enough into the future, they'd be careful about every step they take. Can't these power-hungry men see that? They set up the very structures of their own demise to be possible. It's genius and none of it was conscious!

The pendulum will swing. I can hear Sansa again, "Your words will disappear. Your house will disappear. Your name will disappear. All memory of you will disappear."

And so it shall be!

A Person Who Cares, Stays

I know the truth now. I've been asking for days for it. And now, here it is. It's been here the whole time. Since August. I felt the shift in the hall way when you asked me how he was doing. I knew in that moment that something had changed. 

How did I miss that? How come I never asked the Tarot reader? What a huge oversight on my part. How can I have been so naive? I know I can't blame you for the way you behaved. And yet, I can. I do. In fact, as I write this, I resent you.

I think you're weak. It hurts, you know? Do you know? Do you understand? It dawned on me how you might think I could never put you first. You and your needs. And I'm left with yet again, a painful truth that my own needs actually don't matter and are not even considered.

You pulled away...not that you ever really drew near. But when you realized again the reality of my situation, you decided right then and there, that your pride was the god you were going to worship.

A person who cares, stays. God forbid, you should get all twisted up by my feelings. I mean, what a concept, right? It's got to be clean and painless. And I'm just a hot mess, is that it? You can't or won't get caught up in my gravity?

That's why you don't ask about me. Or him. Because you don't care. It's only ever been about you and what you could get. And I'm here hurting. You remind me of my brother. You're cold. You don't know how to empathize. You hold back. I mean, fuck, it's painfully obvious, you don't give a shit. 

My husband was right. You belong with the brutes. I know that irritated you when he lumped your lot all together. But, it's the truth. You're all the same.

There's no chance I'll ever put you first. I come first. I'll always come first. I'm the lady you'll never touch. Wow, are you telling me that you wanted to have some fun on your terms and not pay a price? Your money doesn't count. Not when a lady's got her own.

You're so cocky. But, you're not happy. I can count on that. There's no way you can be. Not when you're sniffing around despite having a home with goodies waiting for you. It's okay, old friend. I understand how things can get stale. 

For better or for worse? Where did I hear that?

This Chapter Has Ended

I did know it would come to this. But, when it finally came, I still felt unprepared. Because you can't prepare for a complete loss of something. In some ways, the remnants of something left behind can feel more devastating than a slate wiped clean.

That's where I'm at. I can see I've turned a corner but not fully. And my foot in this world is waiting to be joined by the foot in that other world. Because you're really gone now, aren't you? 

I don't want to see you again only because I really want to see you again. There's no point, I keep telling myself. Going with the flow and acting like you don't matter while you go with the flow and act like I don't matter? No way. You'll never see me again. The thought of letting you remind me of what can never be, just so you can continue walking in a straight line, breaks me. 

I asked for peace. That's what the world is bringing me. What I failed to realize is the price I had to pay for it. I'll keep having to pay until I'm snug as a bug in my bed.

Every dream I had was preparing me for this moment right here, right now. It feels so isolating, cold, depraved of...hope. I had no choice but to let go while others hang on tight to me for their sustenance.

I don't quite believe her that you cared all that much. Wouldn't this look differently if you did as opposed to, if you had? I don't want you weaving in and out of my life. Peace took a stand not letting us run into eachother. You took a stand not letting us run into eachother. You must be so proud of yourself.

Let peace wash over me. Let it get inside until the thought of you brings nothing more than an echo from the past. I know it's irrational, given who we are and who we love, but when she said you decided to draw a line in the sand, one that kept you away from me, it broke me, again.

I had drawn a line in the sand a long time ago. Yet, knowing that you had made me feel so unworthy and unloved. I know. I know. Why the double standard, right? Let people say and believe whatever they want. You wanted me...but not enough.

Ace Of Swords - World - Queen Of Swords

Shall I overcome? You can bet on it! The cards always reflect my hunches. I'm doubly sworded. Do you see that? 

I want to give you the benefit of the doubt. But, this hunch of mine won't let itself be overrided. This queen can smell deceit and hear insincerity. She's had plenty of practice. 

I ask myself why I'm upset with you. Is it because you've done nothing? No. You've done plenty but it feels like bait. That's it. I got it. It came to me. Everything you've given, every gesture, was rooted in something else other than kindness. 

I understand the gift of exchange. I understand my place, too. I understand your place. But, yes, you were hoping I'd take the bait. I just know it. And to me, that makes you a coward and selfish. And not because you want. Because I wanted, too. But you and I wanted differently. And in this wanting, I saw you weren't wanting enough or in the right way, or in a way that matters, to want to pay a price. A real price, the kind money can't buy. It requires a certain kind of energy and effort you don't possess. Well, that you can't muster for me. No need to be sorry.

Soon, very soon, all of this will be a thing of the past, a place I'll no longer dwell but only visit casually, from time to time. Maybe I'll even laugh at it. Maybe I'll thank God for having helped me remain graceful. 

I'm already the world, unaffected and uninfluenced as you do what you do and be who you are. I'll be dancing, dancing naked in the light and in the dark. I won't give a care...in the world. Because I'm in the world, though, not of it.

Too Bad For You

Bring it on! Keep proving to me you're nothing more than an arrogant fellow with money. I want to finally learn my lesson so that people like you and people like me, never have to cross paths.

I see the good in people. The problem is that I like seeing the good in people. And the chances you might see something that isn't really there, is almost guaranteed. Because while you may be generous and while you may be kind, I'm not so sure you're sincere in your generosity or genuine in your kindness.

It bothers me to admit this to myself. Because...god...I thought I knew you...from my childhood. I felt innocent with you because we were of the same background. But, you're an entirely different species and I failed to remember that, failed to see it. I mean, you're a man through and through...and not a 'man'. Do you see what I mean? I'm just some chick, a ball buster, someone to control and to you, unintelligent.

I have to be those things in order for you to feel good about yourself, to continue being who you are. You have to call the shots. Do you know what's funny? I'm more old-fashioned than the women my paisans married. 

I cook. I clean. I take care of my husband. I maintain a beautiful home. I pay the bills. I shop for my household. I'm all those things no one needs to tell me to do. I didn't marry my father. I married my equal. And I can still go out all by myself to have a coffee and hang out anywhere I choose without my husband's permission. Do you get that?  Do you think that after 52 years on this planet, I'd let someone, some average dude, dictate how I should live? How I should behave? 

I'm psychic, baby! I'm so bloody intuitive, it hurts. Be a child. Throw your weight around like you're some studmuffin. I don't care. Do you know who you are?

You're the cold one I ran into in front of the cafe last July. The one who didn't have 2 minutes to spare but thinks it's okay to spend an hour talking about himself back at the building.

You're the cold one by the mailboxes when you responded sarcastically to me. Or when you kept saying you had a gift for me but then took 9 months to give it to me.

Don't you get it? That's what I'm going to remember about you. Not for taking me out to lunch, twice. Not for the holiday gifts. I'm going to remember how you left me hanging because I wasn't important enough for you to get back to. I'm going to remember how you ignored me after I wished you all the best.

And then you think the slate is wiped clean because you spent some money? You must have figured out how unimportant all of that really is to a woman like me, huh? Money is nice, sure. But, I can take care of myself. I wasn't going to throw myself at you in order to show you what you mean to me. 

So go your merry way. I'll eat you with my words. I'm too smart for you. I'm too creative. Too poetic. I'm filled with magic. I'm open and sweet and compassionate. I'm all those things you can't fathom in a woman, all those things you deep down secretly want but will never admit to yourself. 

That's too bad for you.