Categories
Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story Uncategorized

The Black Checker

Fuck me. Normally I’m somewhat average in terms of efficiency. Under crisis in August I rose up to become a top 10 performer. Mid September my balloon began deflating and now my life consists of staring at a mug until I finally get up and walk into a wall. Technically I still get a bit done but am nowhere near recommended levels of crispness for my weight range.

Is this a normal response to someone’s mind being overloaded by things they don’t want to think about? An early sign of AIDS? Right now I need to be calling the prosecutor’s office, visiting the courthouse, wrapping packages and taking them to the post office, doing some secretary work for a famous herbalist, cleaning the house since the front door is made of glass, stopping my plants from dying, cooking dinner so the meat doesn’t go bad, playing with the dogs to keep them from sliding into depression, plus I really need to buy a coat and some pants since the temperature keeps dropping and I gotta get these things and more done by six when the sun goes down.

Cause then I have my night time stuff to do.

But rather than performing the tasks essential to survival (in the end we all die anyway, right?) maybe I’ll just sit here drinking coffee and tell you how my empowermints are going.

The most important thing is that I completed my illegal drug empowermint. This was sort of the jewel in my empowermint crown to the extent that I kinda of feel I’ve peaked and have nowhere to go but down. Maybe that’s why I’ve been tailspinning. My whole life I’ve wondered how people obtain illegal drugs when there is no clear road to obtaining them. You can’t buy them in a store, you can’t ask people if they sell them, so how is everyone is high? Well it turns out the answer is friends.

I’d decided that friends were the next realm of empowermint anyway. You can know how to dig ditches and start a campfire but without any friends you gotta hard hoe to row. And I literally knew no one of flesh and blood. Now I know a few.

And I really, really want to write about them. But I don’t know if that’s rude. I’ve always avoided being friends with writers for this exact reason. Just like I’ve avoided being friends with musicians because they have no morals. And tall people because their heads are too far away from earth. And dark haired people because they are wusses. Thin people are harsh and intolerant. Fat people just chuckle when you want to talk about something serious. People with large heads are obsessed with conspiracies. Small heads look weird. Long necks lack commitment. Short neck means tiny brain. Men can be dangerous or break your heart. Women might assume you’re a lesbian and you end up having to eat their pussy just to be polite. There’s a reason to avoid everyone.

I almost feel I’ve gotten too many ideas about life stuck in my head and now I need to clear a few out. Men who eat pasta are gay. Men who avoid pasta are gayer. Drugs are bad because they’re illegal. Hot dogs are bad cause I once found a short thick hair in one. Bars are bad because ghosts live in them and they can get stuck in your hair then follow you home. Honey mustard dressing is bad cause if you eat it you’ll attract men who like to be done up the ass. Red attracts violence. Purple insanity. Black death. White can make you so spiritual that you attract dark sluts who give you aids. Orange can make you attract fun loving sluts who also give you aids. Gold will turn you into a man. Silver softens your brain. The world is full of things to be avoided.

More than ever I feel like a black checker all alone on a checker board. My player has decided he’ll use me to make his next move. He doesn’t have many checkers left. But whichever direction he moves me in I’m gonna get jumped. Maybe this is why I keep walking into walls.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Red, Soldiers, & Fire Uncategorized

In a minute

I’m adddicted to you
Like a bullet I fly
I feel red in my head
And a fire in my mind
Could you tell me what the ring around your neck is for?

Could I knock you around?
Can I call on the phone?
Let me come on your feet
Let me come in your home
Let’s get it done I don’t know what we could be waiting for
If you gotta a minute I could oooo yeah!

I’m addicted to you
I got something inside
It needs somewhere to go
Wanna go for a ride?
I could tell you’re an original & maybe more

Could there be other men?
Well there maybe could be
But right now it feels like
You got something i need
What’s in your hand I don’t know what you could be waiting for
If you gotta minute I could ooooo yeah!

I’m addicted to you
Wanna push you around
Put my hands on your neck
Falling into the ground
I could swirl you in a bucket knock it on the floor

Beating onto your chest
Feeling something inside
And now I gotta go
Something don’t feel right
Maybe this was just a slip a cok and nothing more
Only for a minute I could oooo yeah!

if u r so inclined to drop me a coin…

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Uncategorized Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Day

He wanted to survive
Took off with the red key
Ducking into shadow line
Close my eyes but I can’t see you

Oh where you go?
The night is so strong now
Black though the curtains flow
And one diamond owl

Day

On the second day
I crossed over the green hill
Glimpsing worlds so far away
With clouds that spread forever until

Oh where you go?
You were a friend of mine
Daylight the diamonds grow
In the grass they shine

Day

The sky was streched and blue
Never seemed to end nowhere
The shine was seeping through
Close my eyes and I feel you there

Oh where you go?
The world is so big now
Walk on and never know
The diamonds come somehow.

Day

I feel embarrassed by this song but it is a dream song & I just try to write those down without judgement. So I understand if you don’t want to throw a nickel into my jar, but if you do here it is…

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story Uncategorized Writings

The Merchant’s Taser

My practilife is going ok. An ongoing issue is transportation. I walk in the day (busses cost money without saving much time) but at night don’t know how to calculate the odds of danger. One friend sent me a taser which allows you to electrocute people if they get too close. Another said a crossbody bag keeps you safe from muggers so I bought one. I’ve never needed a purse before since I had no keys, phone or wallet. Now I mumble keys phone wallet… keys phone wallet….to myself one hundred times a day. You keep these three on you at all times.

I tried to select a crossbody bag that says Professional Crisp. The one that arrived looks more like Back to Preschool. This is a problem because people keep asking if I’m autistic. Pretty sure this is code for retarded. So Not Retarded is the main message I want my clothes to send.

I know it is bad to use the word retarded. And cool- almost trendy at the moment- to be autistic. Just one more reason I don’t want to be seen that way. Not to mention that it *won’t* be cool anymore once the wheel of the gods turn a bit further. I’m trying to prepare for the future by building a competent Can Do persona. You should too.

But back to the purse- not only does its shape seem dimwitted, its color is too noticeable. I thought it was light colored when I bought it. My goal for now is to blend in. There are too many holes in my skill set to completely avoid a retarded feeling. But I can avoid becoming a Famous Retarded Person. I don’t want people pointing me out as they drive by in their cars.

Maybe I shouldn’t care though because the other weak spot in my practivitization is that I don’t know anyone where I live. I have learned though that long distance friendships are very real. Not only did facebook friends send me enough money to make it through the initial crisis, they also patiently explained how everything in the practiworld works & even called 911 for me when I couldn’t figure out how to do it.

I couldn’t breath & thought I was going to lose consciousness. But when the cops and ambulance arrived a few minutes later then I could breath and felt so bad for wasting their time even though they were really kind. They asked me if I wanted to get into the ambulance just in case. But being laid out horizontally & placed in the back of a mini van is actually one of my worst nightmares. I associate it with being retarded.

So anyway, I am not sure how to meat people where I live. Friends have suggested open mics. But can me and musicians be friends? I feel like we’re oil & water. It’s a bro culture. You aren’t supposed to care about things smelling bad and being covered in goo. Worse than a bro culture, though, cause it specifically revolves around young, lazy men with no moral compass. Still, I’m trying to be open minded. I might have bad ideas about musicians that it’s time to release.. I’ll try to meet some just in case we get along. Maybe I’d like doing drugs. My facebook friends are always high.

Or maybe astrology readings would be better. Then I’d be dealing mostly with women. And you really get to know people when you read for them. I like the feeling of becoming no one & focusing on someone else’s problems. People’s lives are so much messier than anyone lets on. Realizing this has made me more socially comfortable.

And if you’re wondering how I’m currently able to survive, it’s mostly through my new identity as Arabian Merchant. Selling on ebay. It’s a decent fit for me because shopping is my one true vice. And I’m finding most things in my bulging vault of possessions have gone up in value since I bought them. I’m able to make a profit while clearing space for future shopping. I’m like a fat person who finally got a tapeworm. Now mama eats what she wants.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story Uncategorized Writings

The Cops

One of my side hustles is offering legal advice and the question I get most is “Should I call the cops?”

Once I would have said yes. I like cops because they are protective. However, I’ve come to realize the answer is no.

Cops are not themselves. They are teeth in a giant mouth. The mouth of the legal system. You don’t want to end up in its belly. You don’t want to end up like me.

How I wish I could go back in time just a couple weeks and change my fate by refusing to speak to them.

But I am so used to speaking my mind in worlds where there are no consequences. It’s what I do. I didn’t know that if you flap your jaws in the presence of cops your whole life can change in an instant.

I wanted to talk to them. I was distraught, semi hysterical. I couldn’t stop crying. But I didn’t want anything to happen. I asked them if it was safe to talk to them. They said it was. Nothing would happen. I was so dumb back then. I didn’t know the role of cops is to move food from the mouth into the belly.

Next thing James is in jail. Not what I wanted. I pleaded with the cops, telling them they would be punishing me more than anyone. Without James I literally had zero access to money, phone, transportation etc (100% of his funds are in crypto which I don’t know how to access.) Do you have any friends or family? No. Well, don’t worry, there are plenty of resources to assist you. Don’t worry. There are so many resources out there. Just call this number and they’ll take care of you.

I called the number. They said they maybe I could have two bus passes if I promised to use them for something important and not to go gallivanting around town.

Every step along the way I am told not to worry- there are so many resources available. They are protecting me. I say being homeless doesn’t feel like protection. They say well maybe they can get me a discount on a counseling session. I say I don’t need mental help. They say well maybe we could get you into a pottery class at the helping hands center. Do you like crafts?

I am The Victim. Everywhere I go there are Victim’s Advocates. They pull me into little chambers where there are crayons and coloring books. They give me hugs and stare into my eyes with caring looks. I try to explain that I’m neither retarded nor insane. My concerns are material. I don’t want to be homeless. They tell me my life is worth more than my home. Yeah, but I really don’t want to be sitting out on the sidewalk with no place to go. I have two dogs. Honey, I understand that but we need to keep you safe. There are so many resources.

Oh really. The night the cops arrested James they didn’t want to take me back home for safety reasons. So they tried to find a women’s shelter to put me in. Every shelter within a hundred mile radius was full. Finally they found a shelter where I was allowed to be locked in a little room next to a trash can. I was hyperventilating & screams would come out because I didn’t want James to be arrested. There was a woman on the other side of the glass. She was laughing with her friend because she had asked me if I wanted her to call a paramedic and I didn’t know what one was.

The shelter was basically a female prison. They said I couldn’t enter the main building unless I was showered & put in a new outfit. Hard pass. There was one room where 20 women slept on bunks. Some women high on drugs were banging on the door to the trash room trying to get in.

A magistrate has ruled I can have no contact with James until his trial. Not even through a third party. And no financial support either. For my own protection. Because there are so many resources out there.

I will survive though. Facebook friends sent me money to get me through the first round of utilities being turned off. Selling my possessions on ebay is working better than expected. I found an extra mini part time job. But what if I didn’t have these things? What if I had kids rather than dogs? What if I hadn’t known to open a bank account the week before due to being an astrologer? Without that one piece in place I’d have no water or power. It makes me feel weird that putting me in peril is happening in the name of making me safe.

A lawyer said it’s cause they are terrified of women getting killed by their husbands cause then everyone gets in trouble. The magistrates, the cops, the mayors. Whereas if the women die in other ways, not their problem. After all there were plenty of resources out there.

So anyway, my legal advice is this- the cops are not your girlfriends. Think twice before spilling your guts because your whole life can change in an instant.

James gets out of jail. I may have given the impression in previous posts that he left me for another woman (I also received condolences on his death.) That was me trying to keep up appearances. He is out now but I’m not allowed to see him until his trial on October 25th at which I am expected to be a witness. Apparently this is the exception to the rule that you can’t be compelled to testify against your spouse. I don’t know that it should be an exception however.

Also I must point out for legal reasons that this photo was not given to me by James. In truth it wasn’t.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Sky Blue, Ether, Flags, and Fairies Uncategorized

On High

This is a song I heard in a dream so those I usually just write down without judgment. It is different because at the time I was obsessively surrounding myself only with the colors white, yellow & gold in the hopes that they would protect me from black swirls. Did they? It is hard to say. The black storms still occurred but I got way more help from fb friends than I could have imagined (gold) and was able to learn new skills quicker than I thought possible (yellow.) So I didn’t control the whole universe, but it’s still something.


All the winds were blowing
And their thoughts were filling my mind
Everybody watching
Looking to the sky for a sign
Water started rolling
Changing everything that it touched
Filled our hearts with knowing
All the things that hurt us too much
On high on high on high
On high on high on high.

Caught up in the weakness
Thought it was chance I could take
Till I saw him coming
Then I knew I made a mistake.
But were there people watching?
All these thoughts were filling my mind
Could there be something starting
To bring us in a new wave of time?
On high on high on high
on high on high on high

Are there people watching?
Feel them there each time that you move
Reaching out for something
But somehow always missing the groove
Maybe there was something
Something that he couldn’t explain
Dipping in your fingers
And feeling just a little more pain.

Still the winds are blowing
Living in a world of their own
Once they get it rolling
Then we’ll see the reason to go
In me blue was flowing
All its voices filling my mind
Left me with the knowing
That there was something better to find
On high on high on high
On high on high on high.

In case you would like to donate a drop of money for music. I hope that in the future, when people think of me they will also think of money.
* * *

When I found myself suddenly alone with no income, selling my possessions became the obvious choice, especially since that would make things easier if I ended up on the streets. Luckily one of my obsessions is glass. I love its clear gelatinous nature & it happens to sell rather well on ebay which is a ray of hope. I assume my ebay identity is julienaklei…. not that I am necessarily encouraging anyone to go to my ebay store- it is just me selling everything I own, not my crowning achievement per se.

A glass lady bug. I love vivid orange glass especially. So refreshing.
A “WV Day” piece from Blenko glass. These are limited edition & so sell for a lot of money.
A dog & a “pink ice” bottle.
A glass key chain with the letter W on it. For George W Bush.
A glass mushroom with a red cap.
Business cards. I figured I could also do astrology readings to support myself. I tuck one into the box of everything I sell on ebay.
Categories
Charleston, West Virginia My Life Story Uncategorized Writings

Under the Veil

Above all I feel disoriented and confused. Of course, this is my normal state. I wish there was some magical way of knowing truth. Then I could have clarity. But life is a collage of feelings, words, half-eaten evidence and none of it ever adds up. And so I become obsessed. Because there is no closure. What is real? What isn’t? How do I make good choices from a position of darkness?

My only comfort is this blog but even then it’s walking on ice cause one wrong step and I fall into bad wife zone. What is okay to express and what isn’t? I don’t know. From what I gather you aren’t supposed to speak of your husband at all unless you’re singing his praises. But then how can you talk about yourself? It’s like a person in a concentration camp writing about their life while trying to leave out the concentration camp part. Especially for females, I imagine, romantic partners take up so much space in our life that if we can’t talk about them what the fuck are we supposed to talk about?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a Scorpio & I love having a secret life that is hidden beneath a veil. That’s where I thrive.

But I’ve learned something else. Secret worlds are prone to toxicity. They can’t help it. They are dark, stagnant pools of water. Unconditional love, loyalty and dependence give power to your partner. Power corrupts. And in a finite set one element corrodes the others, like that game rock, scissors, paper. And so a cycle begins. There are no outside elements to mitigate. What happens behind closed doors is nobody’s business.

Christians say marriage is a rope of three strings- man, woman, god. I don’t think this is the right model since God will certainly be defined by the partner with the most power. I believe the three strings are man woman & society.

But human society is not what we think. There is this tendency to de-mystify it because it seems so mundane to us. When in reality it is the color gold & an expression of virtues & idealism that come from a higher realm but demand embodiment THROUGH us. In this way, it is distinct from white spirituality in which higher powers act on our behalf. From what I can tell, gold is the one and only antidote to the toxicity of excessive blackness.

Being cut off from gold is the problem my husband is facing (Am I allowed to say this or crossing a wife-line?). These last 5 years he has been bombarded with Pluto transits which immerse a person’s mind in blackness. Power issues, paranoia. And he is Plutonic to begin with. He wears black. He isolates. He sleeps during the day and wakes when the sun sets. He spends all his time in the darkest room of our house, the one that gets no sunlight. He doesn’t laugh. He brews & stews in his own juices around the clock. And I like dark guys more than sunny ones. But the darkness has gone way too far even by Scorpio standards and begun to take on a life of its own. What I call a backwards black 8 spiral. If you want to see a tv series about this dynamic watch the show ‘The Affair.’ It’s really good. Undealt with childhood issues basically cause a happily married man to unravel until he ends up accidentally whacking off to his daughter & being imprisoned for murder.

James grew up a Jehovah’s Witness and was expected to embody moral perfection or being ‘beyond reproach.’ He wasn’t expected to do anything per se- in fact achievement was discouraged since it’s ‘of this world’- but not making mistakes was critical. A wrong thought, a mispelling, a crumb in your mustache…. all these little errors could potentially drive others away from the Good News the witnesses were trying to spread. This maybe created a dynamic where if he feels he can’t be absolute perfection, he just crawls into a hole and waits for Paradise to arrive. But in the hole the juices pile up, darkening mind & feelings. Men are solar powered.

But obviously it isn’t my choice how connected or disconnected James wishes to be from humanity. I just gotta reach for the gold myself. The last two weeks were desperately focused on learning to make money, pay bills, ride busses and use telephones. But ultimately my survival will depend equally on integrating into the golden arms of society.

Categories
Astrology Charleston, West Virginia men My Life Story Uncategorized Writings

Terror


(I wrote this around couple weeks ago, I guess. Before the last astrological storm which led to James’s disappearance. I asked him how he would feel about me publishing it and he said it was fine, but that nothing I wrote was true.This made me feel a sense of relief so I went the dignified route of keeping feelings to myself. But in the end they were prescient, so may as well share them now.)

Now I’m scareder than ever. The last storm was as bad as I feared it would be- sluts, crime, violence, financial disasters- and I just realized that another one is upon me when Mars joins Uranus in James’s House of Sex & Death.

I really feel he’s going to leave me and somehow it will be my fault. It will be something I did. Maybe this blog post. But if not this then something else.

The other day I couldn’t take the pain of what was happening. I kicked a door so hard I can’t walk anymore. James says this was me using the threat of violence to control him.

The bad parts of him leaving are two-fold. One, he has been my whole life. When I fell in love with James I thought I had found True Love and that became my religion, my reason for existing. To accept that it wasn’t real would be the worst pain I’ve ever felt.

Secondly, I have no idea how to survive on my own. He always wanted to support me and encouraged me to rely on him for everything. This was fine because it allowed me to pursue my interests, which he supported. But also it makes it harder to set boundaries when you’ve never earned a living, don’t have a drivers license, a bank account, don’t know how to pay bills etc. I have no idea how the world works and doubt I would be able to cut it.

But I know it would be wrong to stay with someone who doesn’t want you. I guess I still believe in love.

Weird things are happening in James’s mind. More and more I seem to be associated with all the pain and frustration inside.. And other people who he could potentially have sexual relations with have come to be associated with relief from pain. And positive feelings.

More and more he sees bad in me. Devious intentions which I don’t believe are there. Nothing I do seems capable of shifting it. Meanwhile other females have become easy targets on which to project his positive feelings. They aren’t a part of his life. They are just blank screens onto which he can project his own needs and desires. How can I compete with that?

Suddenly, after eleven years of marriage, everything about me is wrong. I am too mentally fast. That is his biggest complaint. Also I never listen. But I listen all the time. He says ‘Yeah but you never understand.’ So I try harder to understand. And yet somehow I never succeed. I make him think too much. I don’t wear enough camouflage (I was literally wearing camouflage shorts when he said this.) I don’t like to get muddy. (I don’t know if this is true, because he has never asked me to do anything involving mud.)

He likes the way the online women communicate better. They mostly just say LOL all the time. But they say it with a depth of understanding someone like me can only dream of. I am mental. They hear with the soul.

So what can I do? I have to prepare to stand alone in this world. The upcoming astrological storm is likely to be more traumatic than the last one. But I don’t know how to make a living.

I get tens of thousands of downloads a month and over a thousand readers a day but probably make around 100 dollars a year. I do astrology readings but just on a donation basis. I haven’t had a job since I was a teenager. I don’t drive, so how will I get groceries? I am so scared.

But I can’t stay if he doesn’t love me. That’s what I was here for, not money or security. And I am trapped in this fun house where no matter what I do, no matter how good I try to be, I get a negative projection returned. I can do no right and online women can do no wrong. He calls them his fireflies. He calls me cuntface. I can only assume this means he wants to be rid of me.

Categories
Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Lime Green & Electricity Music & Songs Uncategorized

The City

No. Please don’t go.
You don’t know how dark it will be down inside that hole.
No. Don’t go away.
There are those who walk & talk but inside they are not the same.

You don’t know. You’ve not seen eyes
where nothing there behind them lies.
Reflecting distant galaxies absorbing all your fantasies.
Until they leave you all behind.

And you wonder what you did down here alive with all your time.

Because they say hi and they say hi and they say hi and they say hi-
That’s what they do, that’s what they do, that’s what they do.

And they won’t die, no they won’t die, no they won’t die, no they won’t die-
They live from you, they live from you, they live from you.
And then you sink into the blue.

Like a friend.
You follow till you’ve lost yourself around too many bends.
Smile. Play pretend.
Dance or cry it doesn’t change what happens in the story’s end.

You don’t know. You’ve lived in truth
where trees and birds protected you.
But in the city there she lies the light of towers in her eyes.
She knows what happens in the end.

Did you think you were the first time that she found a funny friend?

Because she’ll say hi and she’ll say hi and she’ll say hi and she’ll say hi-
That’s what they do, that’s what they do, that’s what they do.

And they won’t die, no they won’t die, no they won’t die, no they won’t die-
They live from you, they live from you, they live from you.
And then they sink into the blue.

Faces fade into the black. Words that can’t be taken back.
A pact that flows into a hole.
Now you know the place where all the dreams that die will go & go.

Because she’ll say hi and she’ll say hi and she’ll say hi and she’ll say hi-
That’s what they do, that’s what they do, that’s what they do.

And they won’t die, no they won’t die, no they won’t die, no they won’t die-
They live from you, they live from you, they live from you.
And then they sink into the blue.

Would you care to donate a dime or one dollar? All mini contributions are greatly appreciated.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia men Uncategorized Writings

A Meducation

Have you read “Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus”? It is insane. The author describes my conversations with James word for word. He states the exact words I am hoping James will say, then the exact words James says instead, and explains the reason for the disconnect. It’s incredible.

I was going to share some muggets I learned, but decided I must first read it over and over, every day for an hour or so, until it becomes a part of me. The principles make so much sense while reading, but in real life you get lost figuring out how to apply them. I just need to simmer in this wisdom until it becomes part of my bones.

The basic gist though is don’t wear yourself out doing nice things for men. They don’t like this because it reminds them of their mother. What a man really needs is:

A) Permission to be emotionally unavailable so he can do man things, like think about problems. Men go into robot state to recharge and they must fully recharge before they are capable of bonding.

B) Approval and acknowledgment. But this doesn’t have to be as exhausting as it sounds. Think of the man as a robot. He only needs a straightforward acknowledgment of tasks completed and problems solved. “Thank you for taking out the trash.” No goo, no frills.

The most important mecret though is that men hate criticism. And they hear criticisms in statements which females would find loving. Because their core insecurity, is “Am I powerful? Am I capable? Am I being viewed as powerful and capable?” Females, on the other hand, are wondering “Am I lovable? Am I loved? Do I have care and support?”

For this reason, females love it if someone offers to help them. They share ideas and advice as a form of affection. They like being fussed over. Offering a man help, advice or fussiness, however, can easily be construed as an insult. You are telling him he is a pathetic little boy who can’t do anything right without mommy’s help.

So never offer to help men. Don’t give advice or suggestions, unless they ask. (When men DO ask for advice, however, this means they truly want it, whereas females may ask for advice when they are actually seeking care and affection.) And avoid criticism as much as humanly possible.

Now I’m still not 100% sure what you are supposed to do in cases where you are riding bucket seat in a car that a man is driving off a cliff. Is there some way you can suggest he turn left that won’t mortally offend him and cause him to press the accelerator harder? I can only hope multiple readings of this book will reveal the answers to me.

Still, the good news is- give less. Save your care for yourself. When you make yourself happy, that will make your man happy too, since he will take credit for your happiness. Likewise, when you are unhappy, men take credit for that. Hence, the expression of natural emotions like sadness and anger can be construed as insults by a man. Your tears may be telling him that he sucks as a husband and you wish you had married the neighbor.

This is the other tricky part. Females thrive on expressing the full range of emotions. If we emit happiness all the time, we become frayed and brittle. Negative emotions are our healing waters, where we go to regenerate. They give us depth and wisdom. But to men, they are threatening. And an insult to their competence as husband.

Women talk about negative feelings to heal and create bonds. Men don’t do this. If they express negative emotions, it means they are trying to attack or blame someone. So when they see women being negative, they feel attacked. And they counter-attack. Then women go into shock because they don’t understand why they are getting attacked when they were looking for love and bonding. Degeneration begins.

Now, the book says that if men can truly understand that expressing negative feelings is part of female nature- and not intended as an assault- they can gradually restrain their defensive impulses. They can learn to just listen and even say things like hmmmm, oh really? and tell me more. Then they discover that by simply listening, the female’s negative feelings magically transform into positive feelings, including love and appreciation for the listener. This gives men the sense of accomplishment they crave.

So the real challenge lies in convincing men not to be threatened by female style expression. How to do this though, when there is no chance men will read relationship books themselves? * I don’t know, but it must be done. Cause even if a female does everything right- gives space, appreciation, zero criticism etc- if she can’t express the full range of feelings there is no chance she will feel satisfied. She will either pop or fade away, and the man will be left with the very sense of failure he was trying to avoid.

A picture James took of his fingers. This is supposed to reveal something about his manhood. Isn’t it fascinating how we are basically living with a foreign species yet go through life imagining we inhabit the same reality?
Male and female. Living in happy harmony. (Slippers has a shaved leg since she had an operation for a sports injury. The truth is, I am afraid she got the injury from Patton humping her. Something for which I feel a lot of guilt. It was so easy to train Slippers that I didn’t realize what a challenge Patton would be. But I think he has been successfully trained out of this and she is recovering well.)

* I just read this to James and he said you could get men to do this by simply explaining it to them. However, you may need to be patient and remind them over and over that you only need them to listen until they are able to retrain their defensive reflexes.