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A rock fan. A thinker. A psychic empath and a channel, a Tarot reader. The lover of men, kings, and gods. An eternal romance analyser. A polyandrist. A romantic pervert. (A psycho-spiritual life coach.)


How to lose a chick in 10 days – if the chick is me

I was in a serious relationship with a male stripper once. It was one of those “hey you, I like you” things at a club how it got started. He was striking from the word go, a great guy. Then, one day, he comes home, he’s cut his thick long hair that I loved and gotten himself a respectable day job. I’m like… Whoa. Who Do You Take Me For…? I tried to stick around for a while, but I couldn’t. All I could see was doom and gloom ahead of me, a boring husband who is concerned over nothing but how much money he makes and how many babies I’ll birth him… And I was back chasing my favorite tattoo-artist.

Another guy gave me the runners by lamenting on the life on a farm he had planned for us both. How he’d come home with the crops and I’d make him dinner. Took me about 2 weeks to collect my stuff and run like the wind.

I married my husband because he was so delightfully happy-go-lucky when we met. He was 40 at the time, 12 years my senior, and one would imagine that if you get to 40 without a certain level of responsibility or children in the tow, you’re safe with him, yeah? No. He turned into a workaholic in a year or two after we married. I never saw him, and all fun went out of our lives. I still consider him my best friend, but… I am again looking for someone irresponsible to spend the rest of my days with.

Someone who doesn’t get up by the clock, and if he does, only because who can’t wait what the day brings. I cannot stand looking at a guy toiling at something he hates doing, just to bring money in, because money SERIOUSLY is worth jack shit compared to time and fun. Work is not worth it unless you enjoy every second of it, and I’m glad to say that even though I don’t earn anything at the moment, I am excited about where I am going and I am doing this because I want to, not for the money… that I expect to come in by the bucket load eventually… Just not yet.

I want the guys who nobody else seems to want. I want them the way they are, not because I can’t resist a fucking renovation project like buying a nice fixer-upper, but because I like them the way they are. I want them to keep my life interesting, not a challenge of making them submit into depression and gloom for me… Depression and gloom, which in lady-language is “stable married life”. Nothing could excite me less, and I know when I say stuff like this out loud, people think I’m actually saying it as a challenge: “Come and tame me because you can’t have me…!” Ha. The commos are FUCKED UP. But I can’t say it the other way around: “I want commitment, I want commitment, I want commitment” and expect my type of guys running to me, because they actually believe what you say and would run the other way like they should, too. (So no. I don’t want that. I really don’t. Please come and rescue me, strippers, perverts, irresponsible recovering alcoholics and druggies and… Spend drifts. I can’t take this for much longer. I’d rather shiver with you in the gutter than have a stable boring “normal life”.)

Just no more. Feeling responsible for anything but the results of irresponsible acts of unprotected sex are not tolerated. 😀


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I said

You are everything that any stereotypical man would want #ISaidThisButMeant No living man would ever touch you with a six-foot pole.


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