Hearing men talk, I get the impression they store sexual acts in a Precious Memories scrapbook. “We’ll always have that night in Paris.” They seem to be under the delusion that women will also remember sex fondly regardless of what came after.
But for women, sex is a portal which can’t be separated from the world it led to. If it led to nothing, looking back the sex seems bland and sandy. If it led to degradation, retrospectively the sex feels like a spider.
It’s like unwrapping a beautiful present only to realize it contains your parent’s head. Once you know what’s inside, you remember the ribbons differently.
Ultimately, the dick cannot impress unless the man does.
Your penis will never occupy a special place in anyone’s memory unless you- the being connected to the penis- made a beautiful impact on that person’s life. Otherwise, your best moves are quickly overshadowed by a donut vibrator as your weiner’s memory fades in the rearview mirror. To shrink, to shrink again, then vanish altogether.
Or does a speck remain?
Either way, it is the man that makes the dick. Never the reverse.
And when a man himself is something wonderful- when he has an uplifting transformative impact on people- when he changes their lives for the better- when he isn’t afraid to roll up his sleeves and get messy and dream, grow, hurt, be humbled, change, endure- when he can embrace pain & strive to become a hero like the ones in storybooks- then I believe his penis lives forever- growing longer & longer in the memory of everyone he touched.
A glass dildo received as a gift. It is funny because I refer to glass dildos frequently in astrology readings as emblematic of Neptune in the House of Sex but didn’t realize they were a thing in real life.
It was given to me by an astrology non-believer who of course has Neptune in the House of Sex. Fascinating perverts.
I never wanted to leave my country- The United States of America- but something came up and I had to go to Argentina. It is scary. I had planned to make my way through life as a Beggar but now I eat gigantic steaks with wine every night. Plus appetizers & desserts. Anything I want.
Here cost is no object. Before it was the only object. I don’t know how to think about this new reality. It will be hard to go back to the world I knew before. If that world still exists.
You don’t know how delicious this food is. So much pleasure squeezed into every meal. I have never been a food person but this is a transcendent experience. A dimension of life I didn’t know existed. Here, you don’t eat to survive. You eat to experience pleasure. And the people you eat with want you to experience pleasure. It makes them happy.
Pleasure is confusing. I always felt my value came from pain. Increasing my pain capacity, my pain appreciation, the value I could extract from pain. Believing I could turn pain into something life sustaining was the source of my confidence.
Now I’m trying to make sense of life through a pleasure lens. I don’t know where this is leading yet. I’m afraid I’ll puff up then dissolve like a cracker left in soup. Doesn’t pleasure make people soft, selfish, inconsequential? It tastes so good tho I can’t say no. Do you have any idea how many flavors are packed into every meal? Little treats they bring you between courses?
What will happen to me if I start to crave pleasure? Will I still be okay with people being assholes? I’m afraid I’ll lose the strengths that helped me survive.
Here I’m supposed to order what I want. Okay then. Appetizer, entree, main course, dessert one. Dessert Two. Wine. More wine. Strange liquors.
No one is critical of me. Before, I worked so hard, but was considered dumb and lazy. Now I’m sprawled in bed like a pig, yet considered smart and kind. The room costs $750 a night. Why? No one knows. Why is the bed the size of a swimming pool? Why are the walls covered in gold? The rules of life have changed. It may be a trick, but it feels so good- bread, wine, cookies, desserts- I can’t pull myself away.
Beds so large. Rooms so gold. The people are educated and polite. Best of all, they are so sympathetic. They never say, “Whose fault is that, bitch?!” when you slip on a marble floor. It’s “My poor baby!” instead. They don’t hoard money but let it go like feathers. Why am I in this world and what am I supposed to learn from it? Am I really here just to pleasure myself? Is there some deeper meaning?
The people are so smart. Their thinking is conventional. They never peer behind curtains to see what is hidden. If a dog is sleeping they let it lie. Why rock the boat when each person is served a giant toasted cheese- the size of a book- to eat before dinner?
Everyone speaks different languages too. If they wanted to say something snarky how could they? It’s buenos and smiles as far as the eye can see.
And if you want to walk home after dinner, you’ll be escorted. If you prefer to drive, you’ll be driven. I don’t know what is happening but I hope it turns out well.
Two weeks later I’m back on American soil. Slippers is so happy.
I’m trying to figure how men and women can be in long term relationships. The problem is the difference in how they process emotions. It appears that men place all emotions into two categories:
A) Positive emotions. Yay! Good!
B) Negative emotions. Bad! No!!!
Positive emotions mean “Wow! You are a Great Man!” Negative emotions mean “I’m Angry Because You Suck!”
To women, emotions are colors and flavors. There are thousands of them and always new ones to be discovered. They rarely stand alone but are combined to form intoxicating brews. A dash of anger, 3 tears, a laugh…. now some bitterness to make the joy pop…. a glug of euphoria grounded by a trickle of disgust. Emotions are paints and we paint something new every day. It is an exhilarating world. But strangely- to men- this world does not even exist.
They see “good” emotions. YAY! “Bad” emotions. BOO! The emotional experience they crave seems- to the female palette- like the sort of tasteless goo you would serve an invalid. That’s what men call happiness.
They want Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. Every day. Try serving something more complex and they excuse themselves. To give you space until you get it together. They’re not mad at you. They’ll just give you the time you need to get back into Mac & Cheese mode.
To a man, the perfect woman has one emotion. Happiness. If you curve your lips upward and say “Gee that was Terrific!” they are satisfied. Happiness has been reached. Happiness is the goal.
From a female perspective, happiness is the yellow crayon. What can you draw with just that? Straight happiness is a stack of saltine crackers. Yay, yay, yay, yay, hooray, hooray, hooray. Eventually you can’t eat anymore. But he doen’t want you to eat anything else. Black coffee means you’re mad. Black coffee means he’s bad.
Being pressured into permahappiness is like a slug being salted to death. Every bland smile is more salt on your back. Unadulterated happiness is mental and dehydrating.
But men need you to pull out that yellow crayon every time you see them. NOT THE RED CRAYON!!!! NOT THE BLACK ONE!!!! THOSE ARE BAD CRAYONS!!!!
And it hurts to give up this magic. It’s like being lobotomized; just in a different part of yourself. It makes life flat. Something is gone that no amount of smiles can replace. The man can no longer please you because you’ve been separated from the source of pleasure. Pleasure is hatred, terror, insanity, confusion, intrigue, jubilation, awe & crankiness. The full range of feelings running wild.
But I don’t like hurting people. And to men, complex emotional palettes are a form of torture. Same as it might be torture for a woman to listen to a man explain engines for three hours. So I try to be nice by being the sort of woman they understand. Somebody with a brain like theirs, but only half as large and twice as smiley. I don’t want to give nobody nothing they don’t want.
But then I can’t breath. So what is the solution? I don’t think men are bad for disliking emotions. Nor do I think it makes them less loving. It just seems to be a form of energy they can’t process.
It makes sense that women speak the language of emotions since it is the language of babies. We automatically interpret cries and screams as opportunities to connect and help.
Sometimes men prey on this. Life has shown me that… generally when men cry and scream like babies they are not communicating anything real. They just know it triggers something in us. I think men’s most common response to pain is to hide it. It probably makes sense for warriors to hide their vulnerabilities. An excessively emotional man is usually being strategic. Perhaps then, when women are emotional men see it as strategic as well. Trying to control.
My opinion is that women rarely try to control men simply because we lack the desire to dominate them. The idea of throwing a man down on the bed and trying to mount him is repulsive.
But men interpret dark and negative energy as an attack, rather than an opportunity for depth, romance & healing. A man reading this post will likely respond “Wow you hate men! You think they suck!” To a male brain, I am discussing problems because I am mad at men and want to attack them.
To a female brain, I am discussing problems because I value men and want to make things better. Women dwell on problems as an expression of love. We find it enjoyable and transformative, like marinating in a broth. New understandings gel. Possibilities open up.
But men don’t like this. And you care about him so… you try not to bring up problems and focus on compliments instead. The compliments become repetitive, because without dark energy to carve new spaces, light energy has nowhere new to go.
Of course the dynamic changes when men want to have sex. The man in pursuit is not a man at all, but his own species. These creatures can take all your emotions. They swim, they live underwater. Your very essence is beautiful to them. Finally, a man with whom you can be yourself!
The problem is, much like sperms, these humanoids have short life spans. They die once their goal is reached. Even if they don’t reach their goal, they die soon enough. A man appears where the sperm being once was. His mind is transformed from an accomodating squiggle to a tower of fragile cubes. It is no longer safe to jump up and down in his presence. Positive energy only. Your days of being free are over.
So what is the solution?
To only date males in their sperm phase then throw them back once they turn into men? A tempting idea, but they turn into men at the exact time you are getting attached to them. It is hard to let go of someone you love once every cell in your body wants to please them instead.
Perhaps the answer is to always stay immersed in a private world of creativity, like a fish in a bowl, a secret universe where you can use every crayon in the box. Maybe this magic world does not need to be shared with them, maybe that’s too much. Maybe they just need the depth subliminally absorbed from the little things women add to their life…. a mug, a meal, a scented candle. Women fret that men don’t notice these things, but that may be for the best. They swim into his subconscious directly, never dried out and sealed inside his cube tower.
And we need men to hide much of themselves from us as well. We like to enjoy the benefits of male intelligence. But can you imagine if they shared all their thoughts? We would die of boredom within the hour. Perhaps when we open our female worlds to them, they drown.
Look at you and listen to what you say Follow you whereever you will stay
For so many years I ran away places where I’d hide I want you to hold me there inside.
Look at you a smile fills up my mind Feeling warm and burgundy with wine
For so many years I dreamed of places far away I want you to take me there today
Will you hold my hand when I follow you so far underground? Will you pin me there when I’m quivering darkness all around? Will you bring me down?
Looking down and smiling to the side All the secrets that I hold inside
When he turned to burgundy drag me cross the floor I cry, then go back for more
Will you hold my hand when I follow you so far underground? Will you pin me there when I’m quivering darkness all around? Will you bring me down?
Look at you another shade of red Rub my eyes and stumble back to bed All the ropes and wine and fantasy scattered on the floor Rest first then go back for more
When I think of you, I suffocate something I can’t find Could you hurt me pull me back again somewhere in my mind?
When you seperate me suffocate dragging on the floor All the voices hurt me teling me maybe I want more Will you bring me down?
Will you hold my hand when I follow you so far underground? Will you pin me there when I’m quivering darkness all around? Will you bring me down?
They say the rain will play that song again You know the way it will go. To feel his net within my mind again I’ll lead the way even so.
But if you’re gonna take a one time stand, then you’re a one time man You don’t know the way. If you want to say that they was wrong when they was barely born Save it for another day.
If you want to take the easy way and fly First you walk to the window by my side- Water running through the drain and Everything remains the same and
If you want to find the open road and go First you walk to the window and you’ll know- Clouds are foaming in the blue, man. Do you think they’re reforming you man?
I feel the baker take her time again Stir slow, stir slow all of the corn. Green fields appear within my mind again Grow slow, grow slow, only born.
But if you’re gonna take a one time stand, then you’re a one time man You don’t know the way. If you want to say that they was wrong when they was barely born Save it for another day.
If you want to take the easy way and fly First you’ll walk to the window by my side- Water running through the drain and Everything remain the same and
If you want to find the open road and go First you’ll walk to the window and you’ll know- Clouds are foaming in the blue, man. Do you think that they’re reforming you man?
You know the way to pull that cold from me Pull hard, pull hard, pull with your hand. My hair was rope inside your hand, you see Pull hard, pull hard see if you can.
But if you’re gonna take a one time stand, then you’re a one time man You don’t know the way. If you want to say that they was wrong when they was barely born Save it for another day.
If you want to take the easy way and fly First you’ll walk to the window by my side- Water running through the drain and Everything remains the same and
If you want to find the open road and go First you’ll walk to the window and you’ll know- Clouds are foaming in the blue, man. Do you think they’re reforming you man?
I’m currently having a transit called Saturn square Ascendant. It’s a time of pruning relationships to discard those not in alignment with your purpose. It’s lucky to intentionally end bad relationships at this time, otherwise you are likely to get dumped which can have a worse impact on your self esteem.
This transit begins with the feeling that a strange wall has grown between you and others. Friends seem cold, distant, disdainful & you don’t know why. It’s your chance to consider if they are helping you become the person you want to be. If they are dragging you down this is your chance to run.
For me, this transit played out in part by getting banned from a bar with the worst reputation in Charleston, a place I regularly played music. “Wow!” my friend said, “To get banned from the Glass you must have done something worse than a stabbing!”
The truth is I’m not sure what I did. They claim I was rude to several people but won’t tell me who or what I said. I doubt this is true, because I’ve learned to pretty much keep to myself there, only talking to a few musician friends because there are too many who hate me, people I’ve barely interacted with.
It all started a couple years ago when my husband went to jail & I needed to meet people in the community. Friends advised I go to an open mic so I went to this neighborhood dive bar. The first person I met ended up being a psychopath who threatened to kill me for not having sex with him. He started the process of spreading rumors about me, rumors I assumed were too unbelievable to worry about- like that I give drugs to chidren- yet still these rumors managed to gain some traction.
Then I made the mistake of asking someone if he was a drug dealer when he offered me a gummy. I didn’t realize this was wrong to say until I started getting attacked by some women. When I realized I’d offended him I apologized but it was too late. Apology not accepted.
Next I went to hear a friend of mine play. He announced he was playing a gospel song. “A Jewish gospel song?” I asked from the audience. People turned to look at me like I’d just given a kid drug. Oops! I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to ask which religion a gospel song was. The friend was Jewish & his religion was 90% of what we talked about.
The next day a woman who hadn’t even been at the show posted on facebook “Julien Aklei, I’m calling you out for Anti-Semitism!!!” The Jewish friend told her he wasn’t offended but that was irrelevant. This woman was later presented in my divorce trial as a character witness to testify that I have a horrible character despite not knowing me.
Another day I was talking to a soldier. He was showing me pictures of missiles on his phone & debating whether to get up on stage & play drums. I encouraged him to do it saying “Playing drums has to be easier than killing people!” Then the bartender started yelling at me. Apparently I had said something very, very bad.
This turned into the story that I had made a soldier cry, tears streaming down his face but I didn’t stop when I saw these tears, I just kept being mean to him, screaming mean mean things in his face as he cried harder and harder. This was followed by the mention that he had done 3 rounds of active duty.
Tho I never saw tears in his eyes, I don’t have good vision so it is possible I missed them. At any rate, he didn’t appear to be mad since afterwards we kept talking & he bought me a drink.
Next, I supposedly smashed a glass bottle over someone’s head while playing on stage. This rumor came from my own blog where I discussed throwing a bottle at a bass player’s head in a fit of ecstasy. However, this was an empty plastic bottle which bounced off his head like a balloon. It took place in a church not the Empty Glass, nonetheless there were people at this bar who claimed to have seen me do this with their own eyes. The bass player of course said this never happened but that didn’t matter. They had seen it.
Then one day I was talking to a guy who performs in drag shows. These are interesting to me as a Scorpio so I was asking him the psychology of dressing up as a woman. Suddenly a female sound engineering starts ripping me to shreds for being homophobic. This had nothing to do with what I was curious about nor had I offended the guy to my knowledge but that never matters does it?
After this I mostly kept to myself. And I didn’t drink either since one of the bartenders hated me so much I was scared she would poison me. For some weird reason she screenshotted me messages she’d sent to people mocking me for running for office and losing. This bar is very democrat so the fact that I was running for office as a republican probably didn’t help.
But I thought everything had cooled down until recently when I jokingly called a new booker there a communist. He told me this was rude so I apologized. To me, it wasn’t an insult. Then I called my friend a pervert and the booker told me this was also rude and I needed to apologize to my friend, the pervert, who was not offended. Like a fool, I did. You have to be careful with apologies. Too many of them makes you a target.
Next the booker was offended because I wrote things on my facebook wall that were not literally true- things which in my world we call jokes. The booker insisted these were not jokes but lies. “Oh so you’re a liar then, is that what you’re saying.” He told me the things I said didn’t count as jokes because jokes are funny and I’m not.
Lastly, he was offended because I didn’t want to spend the night at a communist farm with him.
A few days later I’m told I can’t play in the bar because I have been “rude to several people.” The guy who is famous for assaulting women can play there. The guy just out of prison for murder can play there. Just not me.
This may be for the best though since I need to deconstruct and rebuild my social circuits. I have too many “friends” who are always casting me in a negative light. Meat says they are too dumb to get my sense of humor. She believes the average person is well-intentioned but retarded. I tend to assume people are devious geniuses. It’s the archetype I’ve mostly known. Meat says I’m in denial about how dumb people actually are.
But whether its supidity or malice, tis probably best to avoid those who project sinister motives onto you, chewing you out for asking a question while they hi five the guy who offers you 20 dollars to clean something then pushes you over a sofa and drags you into the kitchen.
Still it was always the happiest times when I could go there and play music so I will miss it. Hopefully there are more places in the world to play.
Goodbye Empty Glass! I’ll remember the times we shared!
Look around and hope to see you Look around and wonder where you been Like a man you come towards me Hold you like a razor in my hand
Oooooo… you always knew the way But I could never see the way The fire was in my eyes- it burns and still I’m fine Why can’t someone love you for a long long time?
Dancing with you at the bar All the stars they circle round to fall Come close stick the pin into me You love me cause I can take it all
Oooooo… you always knew the way But I could never see the way The fire was in my eyes- it burns and still I’m fine Why can’t someone love you for a long long time?
Believe in things that cut you most Believe in magic like a ghost I swear I’ve never felt this way before You move towards the open door
Then turn It burns but still I’m fine It burns but still I’m fine Why can’t someoe love you for a long long time?
Things are okay. For a minute I was knocked down by my divorce trial. Not only did I get nothing- I ended up owing husband $4000. This despite the fact that I had always been a housewife who made no money. He kept everything- money, house, crypto, car. I had my guitars and 24 glass vases which I took from the house when I moved into a free apartment provided for me by the domestic violence shelter. Thinking about it still makes my stomach twist. It was such a shocking conclusion I let out a gasp in the courtroom and the judge had his guard stand as though I would be arrested so I grovelled and grovelled until Retardo calmed down.
Twould take forever to explain how nonsensical and horrifying the trial was…. remember the court scene from Alice in Wonderland? It was exactly like that. But rather than screaming “OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!!!” the judge screamed “I”LL SEND YOU TO SOUTH CENTRAL (jail) SO FAST YOUR HEAD WILL TWIRL!” Over and over.
Why was he going to send me to jail? He didn’t like where my eyes were pointing, the expression on my face, the fact I was wearing pants or that I needed a definition of ESP before I could say if I had it. “DO YOU HAVE ESP MISS AKLEI!!??!! REMEMBER YOU’RE UNDER OATH!!! DO YOU HAVE ESP??!!” This came up multiple times. Why & how was it relevant to a divorce trial? I have no fucking idea.
How did the judge conclude that my husband had no money when he owes the IRS $462,000? We owe the IRS that much I mean. The judge verdicted that I was equally responsible for the debt despite the fact that I didn’t know it existed until James went to jail. And of course have no access to whatever money was earned.
I should appeal but I’m too scared. I’ve seen no evidence that courts are places of justice or reason and don’t dare spin the clown wheel again. There does not appear to be any “law” these wackos are following. It is petty tyrants gone wild. Nor does common sense come into play. I doubt many sane people would think it makes sense for a housewife with no access to money to pay her husband who has all the money. But the judge clearly hated me from the beginning, Why? Because I practiced astrology? He obvious hated that. Because my husband went to jail for battery? I was warned in advance he would hate that because he doesn’t believe domestic violence exists. He thinks people would leave if that were really going on. When I told him I didn’t have access to money while married he said that was not believable and “I had no credibility.” He told me I had no credibility over and over again, interspersed with his prison threats. Maybe he didn’t like me because my lawyer was legal aid while my husband had a real lawyer who was a friend of his.
Do people understand what a large sum $4,000 is to someone already drowning? I would have been suicidal had it not been for a miraculous twist of fate. A secret friend appeared out of the blue and promised me that he wouldn’t let me die.
But before I talk about that…. I’ve been learning more about the fate of domestic violence victims & so many of them do end up homeless with brain injuries from having their head slammed into the wall & no job experience or confidence either. It makes me so sad. I was one step away from that and now I’m one and a half steps. I wish I could help others. It is so gross to me that a man who doesn’t even believe domestic violence exists is allowed to terrorize people in family court and put them in even worse positions. I also believe it is unethical of Legal Aid to give people in need incompetent lawyers who make their situation even worse. It’s like opening a food kitchen that serves the poor rotted food. It’s not funny at all.
On the other hand, assuming I do survive, the outcome of court may have been for the best. There are some people (we call them men) who need to win & everyone is safer when they do. If the end result makes my husband feel vindicated and triumphant that may be best for me in the long run.
Injustice is a funny feeling though. Shock, anger, the twisted feel of being overpowered and defiled by malice. Luckily I was prepared to experience this. One of my hobbies is getting in touch with the different feelings humans experience then experimenting with remedies to counteract them. I already had my injustice kit lined up.
The court left me in fear though- that I would have no way of surviving and end up homeless- and it was so great I could barely function. Enter my secret friend. The one who says he won’t let me die. He’s secret because he’s married.
It’s not an affair though. But can I help it that when someone says he won’t let me die I prefer him to the ones that would? He gave me a lot of food and other things too.
And he’s been repatterning my mind. My brain was so filled with negative inputs. “You think you can be a janitor you piece of shit?! Aim Lower ! LOWER!!!” No matter how low I aimed, it never seemed low enough to please my friends nor the voices in my head.
But Secret Friend hasn’t been encouraging me to aim lower. Don’t worry, he says, I won’t let you die. He puts a positive spin on me and sees me in a positive light. Suddenly I’m not the lazy piece of shit who got herself in this situation and better get herself out of it which is who I was to other men.
There are so many downwards spirals tied to poverty. People treat you like you are dumb, lazy or just suspect…. there must be SOMETHING wrong with you right? Not everyone has an imagination large enough to grasp the size of Fate’s Wheel. It’s like they’ve never read Arabian Nights & don’t understand that the King and the Beggar are the exact same person at different points in his journey.
Another downwards spiral is sacrificing your spiritual/emotional needs to actual- or perceived- pressures of survival, bending your soul out of shape to where it becomes harder and harder to function. Poor people are not supposed to have preferences or even boundaries. You can’t say no to lifting something because your back hurts. You aren’t supposed to care what color your winter coat is, just be happy to have one.
The problem is that neglecting your subjective needs actually makes survival harder. Babies can’t survive if they aren’t held. Orphaned animals can’t survive unless a stuffed animal is placed in their cage. Having our inner needs met, having a plan in alignment with our soul and purpose… this is where our will to survive comes from. But as a poor person I’ve felt this constant pressure to abandon myself. Some even seemed to take a perverse pleasure in the crushing of my spirit. But my Secret Friend is the opposite.
Which is lucky because I am having this transit- Pluto Opposing Saturn- in which circumstances are so hard that your heart can become permanently hardened and you end up living the rest of your life as a calcified shell. The most important thing during this transit is to keep this from happening. You must survive and keep your heart mushy at the same time. To put it another way, you have to make sure that when your body survives, your spirit survives with it.
But the voices ringing in my ears kept encouraging me to be harder and harder. I couldn’t please them. Even my boyfriend wanted me to become a janitor by day and shovel snow by night when my back was already injured. He also wanted me to move into an old car with my dog. How is living in a car supposed to work?
Aim lower! Aim lower! Cleaning toilets isn’t low enough, who do you think you are bitch, President of the United States? But what is lower? Eating the shit? Will that make people happy or do I need to first make sure it’s infested with worms?
It isn’t everyone who is like that though. There are so many others who helped me.
Like my secret friend. Have I mentioned him? He has encouraged me to stay in touch with magic, which for me is the core principle of life. Magic, music, men, in that order. Without magic, I don’t think I could survive.
But enough about my Secret Friend. I need to shut up or he won’t be secret anymore. The point is, now I have Secret Friend, Increase, Slippers… my tribe is growing…. and of course Colors. Also songs & foods to eat. He even gave me wine. I drink it because it’s good luck. I am learning to get in touch with Jupiter for the first time. I want to bring the magic of Luck into my life.
And… fwiw my previous plan to become Pure Evil did bear lucky fruit…. all it took was adding black to my apartment. I didn’t even need to get to the part where I perform evil deeds.
I *almost* reached that part & was going to become a professional cuddler. It was the only way I could think of to earn enough money to buy a car and become an Uber driver.
Theoretically, cuddling wouldn’t even be evil since you are just sposed to lie next to someone in a bed not touching like two clowns laying side by side. I have a friend who did it though and she said many worms were seen. She enjoyed stroking them.
I think its not for me though. My greatest fear in being single was actually that I would have to work in a sausage factory because I’m afraid of raw meat.
So I’ve been selling on ebay and and also working on getting my drivers license. This is not the final wision though. Stay tuned.
This squishmallow is a sign of what is to come. I am now leaving the dark side behind me. Those are real wine corks because I received bottles of wine along with a corkscrew and have been working my way through them all by myself. Wine is sacred to the Gods of Luck & Fortune.I got glasses so I could get my driver’s permit. They cost $700 and it was another human who volunteered to buy them for me. Otherwise I’m not sure what I would have done.
I point this out because it is dawning on me more and more that if we expect people to climb out of poverty then we will need to help them. There is no real downside to helping others anyway since you are buying friends for when Fate’s wheels turn on you. Plus buying your entrance to Heaven.
Receiving help does feel strange though. So taboo. But I think if people are helped when they are down it makes it way less likely they will harden their hearts and turn to the dark side which helps all of us in the end.
Through a twist of fate, Slippers and I ended up in a hotel. I was terrified that hoteling would be too complex for me to handle but in the end it was magic. Slippers was in paradise and it jolted her out of a depression she had fallen into and back to her normal perky self.
Slippers enjoys hotel life. So did I. I showered for about 4 hours since my apartment doesn’t have one that works. Then I slept & spent the whole morning drinking coffee and watching YouTube videos on the paradise mattress. You have no idea how comfortable it was.
Slippers and I never sleep together. But this mattress was so large I thought we could try it. So I forklifted her onto the bed. It was fun.
I’ve been ebaying. I was trying to make a living this way but not sure I can swing it.
I’ve been selling the pictures of naked women I used to paint.
I feel I’ve been getting better at keeping Slippers happy. At first I was just so panicked about keeping her body alive I couldn’t see much beyond that.
And finally a prayer…. that my words don’t become cannonballs for my enemies canons.
