W.T.Follow-up

So, building on my last post (like what you like, don’t like what you don’t like, fuck anyone is who shames you for any of it)… I saw a post today in a witch group, this person posted about how her allergies have been acting up since she started burning incense and candles all the time….

Sis. THEN STOP BURNING INCENSE AND CANDLES.

Your ancestors or godesses or spirits or enery or whatever you are working with will understand, I promise. No religious/spiritual practice should create a sense of obligation in you to continually do something that is causing physical ailments.

Not sure of the origin of the quote, but I’ve read that “tradition is just peer pressure from dead people” I’m not saying abandon them all. Some traditions are wonderful and amazing. And some we outgrow, for a plethora of reasons, allergies being one of them.

Let’s say you have a gluten intolerance. Let’s also say a family tradition of yours is a big ol pasta dinner every Sunday. Now, traditional pasta ain’t gonna work for you. So maybe you start researching amazing vegetable based dishes and you end up opening the worlds first 5 star vegetarian Italian restaurant, all because you were forced to break tradition.

For this lovely lady.. okay, fire ain’t your element. You are being urged to explore other options. Use tea leaves, use plants, use pendulums. For scent, use essential oils in a diffuser. Use supplies that are red and orange to represent the fire. You are being given such an great opportunity to be creative. Maybe she’ll explore and will go on to write a book about creating your own craft and the benefits of non traditional spirituality.

We’re so afraid of going off the well beaten path that we are potentially missing out on the most incredible scenery.

Get lost, be open, start your own traditions.

Why have guilty pleasures?

I was scrolling FB earlier and this guy has this HUGE post with a link to some Justin Beiber music video. He wrote about how he isn’t a “pop culturalist”,or something, especially when it comes to music, he always does better than the Beebs (I’m 100% rephrasing, of course) but he just liked this song.

Okay.

I mean, like it if you like it. Literally nobody cares. And I don’t mean that in a rude way but like.. if you rock out to Justin Beiber every now and then, no one cares, and if they do – fuck em *maybe literally, while Justin Beiber plays in the background* **only if they consent, of course, to the fucking… sneak in the soundtrack**

Like what you like (within reason, I don’t promote harmful behavior here). Let others like what they like. I feel like I’ve written about this before but it’s always so weird to me when people feel bad or are made to feel bad for a musician or tv show or whatever that they are into.

I unapologetically can sing along to more than a handful of Spice Girl songs. I still love and am genuinely creeped out by episodes of Courage the Cowardly Dog. I sleep with my favorite blanket and at least one stuffed animal every night. If any of my friends ever tried to make me feel guilt or shame for that, or anything else like that, they can 100% fuck off.

One of my besties loves the One Direction (hey girl hey!). I don’t. Nothing against them. They are adorable boys, making catchy pop music. It’s just not my scene. But it’s hers, so while I don’t personally dig it, I’m totally fine with her digging it. Live and let live, y’all. Ain’t nobody gonna shoot you because you like a Justin Beiber bop, so this like… fear of liking stuff (usually uber mainstream, popular stuff – heaven forbid we like something that literally millions of other people like – we clearly can’t or we’ll be stripped of our cool badges….) is just so surreal to me. I’m old as fuck. Peer pressure is just like… the last thing I feel the need to entertain.

Also, don’t like what you don’t like. For me, Game of Thrones, Marvel movies, college football… I just could not care any less about these things. I don’t bash the kajillion people who do love these things. I actually use to plan grocery shopping trips around football games because I knew there would be fewer people out and about.

Life is just so much bigger than these things. I understand you can connect with your tribe, partially, because of these things. I went to an EDM show a few weeks back and I saw the community there, that came together because of the music, and that’s amazing. But I really hope every single person at that show knows and loves someone who totally doesn’t get that genre.

I don’t want my life to be just straight shots of tequila. That is gonna be boring and it’s gonna fuck me up, bad. I want my life to be colorful, tasty, wonderful cocktails with multiple ingredients. You’re the bartender of your life, play, experiment, mix it up, y’all. Cheers!

Why’d you have go and make things so complicated….

I was hanging out with my ex at the bar last night (because I make awesome life choices….. – just kidding, mostly- love you boo!) and he kinda suddenly was like, “I’m sorry but I have to go,” and started explaining why and where he was going and this thing with this mutual friend of ours, etc, etc, etc and I was like… “dude… it’s fine, you are under no obligation to me. I’m glad you came out, it was super nice seeing you, but if you have to go – go, have a great night.” To me, it was that simple. We didn’t have specific plans to hang out all night so, you made a lovely cameo appearance, cool, hug, bye.

A 2020 goal is to say good luck and godspeed to complicated relationships. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Please note, I did not say I’m peacing out on relationships with complicated people. I’m just tired of everyone, myself included, making things harder than they need to be.

A few months back I had the… “what are we” talk with a guy. He was like, “what do you mean?” And I was like, “well, I’m trying to tell my friend about you and like.. you’re not my boyfriend.. ” and legit his response was, “oh… yeah.. I’m you’re non monogamous casual romantic partner.” W.T.F. That’s what I’m done with. If I can’t describe what you are to me, accurately, using one or two words, you and I are too complicated and our tetris pieces need reconfigured so a few rows get eliminated.

It might seem like I’m oversimplifying, but that is just so a risk I’m willing to take. Right now in my life, I’d rather I strip things down to much, than I over puff them up even slightly. The only puzzle I’m working on this year is me. The only puzzle you should work on this year is you. Now, if I love you (if your one or two word descriptor is “friend”, “good friend”, I’ll even include “fuck buddy”) and every now and then you get stuck and you just need a new set of eyes on your puzzle, I’m happy to look and point out a piece or two that can help. But that’s it. I love you but that’s your mess. I have a hard time asking for help, but if I need it, I know who I can ask that will spend a lil bit of time helping me find a corner piece that then I can build from.

To uncomplicate things, a certain level of bare bones honesty is required. And that’s scary and that’s hard and that’s something I need to work on. It’s creating boundaries so lines are not confusing. It’s clearly expressing my intent. I can’t expect simplicity when I’m fucking around, playing games.

So.. just some thoughts. Keep it simple. Keep it clear. Keep it 100, or whatever the kids say. And hold those in your life accountable to do the same. And encourage them to do the same with you. 2019 basically tried to kill us all, and based on current headlines, 2020 may not be much kinder, which is why we all need to do and be better for each other and ourselves but I just so strongly feel that will be ineffective unless we simplify. K.I.S.S (keep it simple, sexy!)

Molting

Let’s talk about tarantulas. Look at this guy!

He’s spectacular, right?! He’s a greenbottle something. I don’t know. Not an entomologist. Go with it.

So.. change. Everyone wants to use the caterpillar metamorphasizing into the beautiful butterfly or the snake shedding skin to symbolize the process. But I’m not everyone. So… mother effin tarantulas molting mother effin exoskeletons. Yes.

Molting happens as they grow and it is a very difficult and strenuous process. They often lie on their backs and appear dead.

I was just sick. Real sick. Bed ridden (laying on my back, actually… being on my sides made me throw up)… not saying I was molting but…

I don’t know.

I’m changing. I’m growing. Hopefully for the better. After a tarantula molts, it is soft, tender, very sensitive and not to be touched for about a week. … good luck to my boyfriend tonight ha!

Tattoos and Love….

One of my jobs is at a tattoo shop.  It’s pretty great. If you’re in Ohio, hit me up, come in and see us!  Anyway.. so one of my guys just told a 17 year old girl, getting her first tattoo, “It’s permanent, in that it’s always there, but it’s not permanent in that it will always look the same.”  And I was instantly hit by how much that kind of mirrors love for me. (He was getting at things like stretching, fading, just generally aging of the skin, by the way)  But yeah.  I think of like… my first serious boyfriend, 15 years ago, when I was 19 (god damn I’m old!) and… we’re not together, we barely talk.. just life happened and is still actively happening for both of us so…  but I still do have love for him. I always will. Is it that bold, bright, crazy, die for you, passionate love?  No. But if he ever needed someone to talk to, I’d freakin be there, ya know?  Because while the specifics of love change, the look of the love is not permanent, the actual love is permanent.  Once you hit me on that soul level, you reside there, in some capacity like.. straight up, legit, for life. You tattoo me. Just a lightning bolt thought that hit me. Haven’t written in ages. Another love of mine mentioned I hadn’t posted in a while so… things are good, love is life, be kind to each other.

The time is now (follow up post)

Read the one below – When to Stop Fighting – before this one, for best continuity.

Sup? Life man… fuck. So, I talked about signs. And I mentioned like.. specific tracks/lines in songs on the new Chvches album (which is actually super solid, and I kinda feel bad for sayin eff it). And they seemed so fitting and so deep and there was such confirmation in them that like… the fact that the album is called “Love is Dead” completely passed me by. I am finding proof that I need to keep fighting for a boy in these songs on an album called Love.Is.Dead. Missing the forest for the trees, y’all.. that’s what happened. So, that was an interesting revelation today.

Also… I have an answer, kinda. It’s not about finding out when to stop fighting, it’s about figuring out what is ultimately worth fighting for. And it’s so dumb that this was like.. a lightning bolt idea to me but.. in the end, the only thing worth fighting for is you, yourself. (I understand family and loyalty and devotion, like none other, I assure you so that’s not what I’m saying here). I’m saying… a.) no one else is responsible for you; it’s great to have people that will help you, or look out for you, but.. they don’t have to, they chose to, recognize and appreciate that. b.) ultimately, you are not responsible for anyone else – again, I know you have kids or spouses or whatever, and yes, you should take care of them, but there is literally nothing physically stopping you from saying, “fuck this, fuck that, fuck them” and peacing the fucking out. So then in conclusion c.) only you are responsible for only you.  Read it again, it makes sense, I promise 😉

So, I fucked things up with that boy, for sure. And I apologized. I made a mistake. I owned it. And now.. I’m okay. He can accept or reject my apology, and we can continue or stop, I’m kinda… letting him marinate for a bit. But… it’s kinda okay either way. I am responsible for me. I did my due diligence in righting the wrong, as much as possible. And now I need to get back to myself. I allow myself to be swept up and away with others, and my tether to my own core had gotten so warped and stretched that, in being there for everyone, I was nowhere for myself, and that’s some straight up nervous breakdown bullshit. I need to rein myself in. But I also need to reign myself in. I need to get a grip on myself, and also fully rule myself, I hold the leash on my life, myself, I control it.

I will be there for people, so long as it’s not harmful to me. That is going to be a change for me.  I’ve always liked the quote, “Don’t set yourself on fire just to keep others warm.” But I’ve always lived, “Pour more gasoline on me and break out the s’mores.” And it’s only this morning that I am finally rising up from those ashes. I will not be small for anyone else’s comfort. You’re either on board, or you’re doggy paddling solo, I’m no longer stopping my fucking carnival cruise ship to send out a lifeboat for anyone. I can’t. Making all those stops and detours.. I’m never gonna get to my destination. Only you are responsible for only you. When I’m frustrated or on my death bed or whatever scenario we want to play out, I can blame whoever, but it’s fake. “Well, if this boy hadn’t….” “If that co-worker had…”  No. Me. If I hadn’t. If I had. Make better choice. Rein yourself in. Live loudly and vibrantly and bizarrely, but keep yourself securely tethered to your own desires and ambitions. Reign yourself in. Own it. Everything. Good, bad, all the grey in between. And learn to accept other people doing the same for themselves.

The song is “You gotta fight for YOUR right to party”, not “You gotta fight for everyone else’s right to party”. Just sayin.    🙂