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Sebastyne

A rock fan. A thinker. A psychic empath and a channel, a Tarot reader. A polyandrist; The lover of men, kings, and gods. An eternal romance analyzer.  A romantic pervert. Generation X Rebel. A psycho-spiritual life coach.

The eye’s on the ball but the player’s confused

I know what I want, but I don't know how

It is an incredibly weird feeling, being so focused and confused at the same time. I’ve got a pin point goal in life, I know EXACTLY where I’m going and where I fit, but maneuvering myself from here to there requires strategy, and quite frankly I’m the crappiest strategist in the world. I feel like I need to solve that freaking box that Jurassic Park got started with, or a Rubicks Cube, that to you may sound like child’s play, but for me… I’m an intuitive thinker, not a strategist, and there’s something really annoying about intuition… It’s REALLY HARD to intuitively connect to a lot of people at the same time and predict how each one of them is going to react to things.

Online marketers give a very good advice when they say to pick ONE person, their ideal client, and then talk to THAT PERSON. Give them a name, give them a job title, build a background story etc. It’s a great piece of advice unless you’re clairaudient and everyone you’ve ever met believes you have to target your material TO THEM, regardless of who you ACTUALLY want to target. They get insulted when you want Johnny Depp rather than Miss Thread Count, Connecticut.

I shouldn’t always be talking about Johnny Depp, but damned his antics of late have been entertaining. The rest of the Sexiest Men In The World have been pretty damned boring lately, everyone putting their best foot forward. I feel jealous of myself on their behalf, which is one of those mind-fuck emotions that ruin relationships, but there you go. The guilt you feel about your own movements make everyone feel a bit awkward around you. But who could blame someone for being completely consumed about Johnny Depp and not wanting to hear a word about Kit Harington’s fling with the stone-faced red head?

I don’t know how to play this. There’s a plethora of men surrounding me at all times. I love them all, some I love more than others, some I adore to the last cell of my being, some I am curious about, some I feel awkward loyalty to while hoping it will go back to the way it was some time ago and the awkwardness would melt away… Some I simply like to look at because they’re beautiful. Some, I feel I’ve wanted to be something they probably never were, and they wanted to be that, too, but… When that moment of clarity comes, you realize that maybe they were never what you wanted them to be, but beautiful in a different way entirely… For different people.

I know I am a polyandrist by my natural leaning. I know I want to surround myself with masculine beauty and hear not ONE female voice for days on end while basking in the sounds of male voices. I have become territorial a little. I’ve never been that way before, and now I feel I have, in my previous lives, allowed foxes into my chicken coop so to speak… Due to monogamy. Now, I want my men back, and the lot of you can fuck off. And while I’m at it, I want to claim a few more men than I had to begin with… Just because I can.

I’ve used to be accommodating to other women… To LET THEM HAVE MY MEN, do you understand how REVOLTING that sounds now? Let them HAVE MEN? People? To GIVE a person to another person because “you have too many?” Like a mother of 8 would go… “Oh you know, you can have that one, I don’t need that one because I have so many. That’s the one I like the least.” That is fucking forced monogamy right there. One spouse policy, an outdated barbaric system if you ask me. No. There’s no liking least here. I’ll hold onto the last hairy decaying old man if I happen to love his soul – the ageless part of him… Aging may not be the best thing ever, but hell, their souls are.

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