I am an honorary member of the Scorpio tribe.
Magical, mystical creatures, most of them. One foot in this world and the other, well, in the others.
Forever confounded by the behavior of low men and women. Me too my darlings, me too.
I don’t hold grudges like they do, into the afterlife it seems.
Once this is out, I consider all matters closed. Not negotiable.
I’ve deemed these women who feel the need to follow my life for ugly reasons, inconsequential.
It saddens me that they put weight on my opinions and actions. That’s no way to live. Worry about your own.
Scorpio 101
I will ignore you so thoroughly you will question your existence.
And honestly girls? You should be questioning your own existence.
Be like Elsa, let it fucking go.
I don’t have the time for this, my energy is precious and much better spent. I am on vacation so I am giving y’all an hour. Nothing more.
Mermaid, whom we not-so-lovingly refer to as Big Tuna whenever her name gets mentioned (and we never say it 3 times, no no) said “Sarah has left Sirens, I can finally go back.”
Pardon me?
This raises a few questions.
Um. How did she know I was leaving. Seriously creepy. She is barely an afterthought to me. I honestly never think of her unless her name gets mentioned, and then I simply remind the speaker of the 3x rule, lest we invoke the creature from the black lagoon, and get on with my day.
I wouldn’t even mention her now, she’s just a segue.
In no way was I ever responsible for preventing her from returning to Sirens. She is her own gravedigger.
Mind you, I never wanted her freakshow fuckbaby of a boyfriend either. I guess some people just get ideas in their heads and they can’t see the truth.
All done now.
I have had a reoccurring conversation with Attica lately about winning.
She dissolved a roommate/friendship situation lately.
She had to.
She was taking inventory of money spent and lost, damage done and decided that she won.
“Why do you have to win? At the end of the day, you got your stuff out, you have a nice life and you get to keep being you, isn’t that enough?”
She agreed, she still half jokes about winning, but I watched her evolve a little bit before I left.
When my own roommate situation went septic it wasn’t much different. Accusations and name calling galore, not by me. But I still live there, sorta. It’s not winning, it is the simple refusal of allowing anyone else to fuck with my happiness. Keep your part of the peace or leave.
Rules of engagement?
Don’t engage.
I survived my mother’s house. Weak and young and unprepared.
Silence, legion, save your poison
Silence, legion, stay out of my way
Tool, Jambi
Like seriously sisters. Stahhhp already.
Bad Sarah hasn’t come into view in a long time. Good job puddin.
All done now.
The idea of having to fight for someone doesn’t appeal to me at all.
I might step back and wait, but I subscribe to the school of
thought that if a man feels the need to choose between me and another, that ain’t
my man.
Take him, please. Fuck him as best you can and try to keep him out of my
inboxes.
Be kind and learn CPR for the love of God.
Final boss’ current stalks me too. “She already told me you were in a bad mood.”
Just wow. Seriously?
Why?
I ain’t even in the same time zone.
All done now.
Do you all need to get together and form a support group? Call Stompy Magoo, Susan, Jen and Anastasia too. They all think I am the devil incarnate.
The thought that prompted all of this was the following conversation with Wolf.
Once upon a time, there was a game going around on Facebook.
Describe me in one word.
Sisterwife called me “Enduring”.
I retaliated by calling her a Leptictidium. Latin for ‘delicate weasel’. It’s a now extinct rodent from the Eocene period.
I am so clever it hurts sometimes.
And baby, I AM enduring. We can do this together.
Every time her death gets mentioned the invariable question is
“How does that make you feel?”
My knee jerk reaction was ‘I feel nothing’
I have re-evaluated this.
I feel bad.
She lived in fear of my return until she died. I never told her not to worry.
Not sure it would have helped, but at least my conscience would have been clear.
She isn’t the only one. I have a handful of women who live in fear of me. I don’t care for it.
I lack the simplicity of language to explain to them I don’t want what they have.
I should probably write an article about that.
4 years ago I was talking to my friend Tristan. I love him, his wife and their daughter dearly. They adopted me as the weird auntie years ago when I needed it. I have often found it hard to form relationships with women who aren’t strippers. I was expressing my gratitude for his wife not worrying about us hanging out.
“I don’t compete with other women.”
He chuckled and said, “That makes you even more dangerous.”
“I respect what they have, and I have no desire to take what isn’t mine.”
“Because you are a good woman.” He said.
The idea of owning another person has never really appealed to me anyways, being owned? Totally different story. But we already talked about that, and I am certain I will bring it up again.
I realize this sounds hypocritical all things considered.
There will be no homewrecking here.
Because, the absolute truth is I don’t want what she has.
I don’t want a big house.
That particular kind of lifestyle never appealed to me.
(see above where I survived my mothers house)
I don’t care for busy work. I looked after a giant chalet in Milton for years. My reaction to 1000 days spent scrubbing floors? I bought a trailer that I could have spotless in half an hour or less. Again, my time and energy is better spent.
I live my life out loud in my own way, not filtered on Instagram. Cartoon hearts don’t do it for me. I know better validation than this. My own and his.
I don’t need the marriage or status. I respect her as the keeper of the children. That is sacred. I have no quarrel with her.
I want the parts of my Wolf that he doesn’t show anyone else.
Dirty, dark, powerful and beautifully strange. Just like me.
Symbiotic.
No one has to worry about me coming back to claim what isn’t mine.
I am good where I am, being loved the way I love.
