A theory, after a tower of Lone Star

Hey, gimme a break. Cohen got the tower of song.

Something has been happening over and over and over again and it will keep cycling if I don’t look at it. So let’s do that.

Yesterday afternoon I was foolish enough to exclaim: “What the hell happened? I used to attract decent guys!” to which was immediately shot down by another who said “No, you didn’t”.

So fine. I attract scum and ass-hats. In my more optimistic days, I believed that I was also of the “scum and ass-hat” variety so anyone really had the potential of being too good for me. I am rude, I lie, I cheat, I steal, I am vain and I treat my loved ones badly when the clouds come.

So, ass-hats abound.

However (you knew this was coming)

These days I am older, less sure, less energetic and less…not less venomous but certainly less enthusiastic about sharpening those fangs. I would like the basic guy+girl= serious blah blah blah but I don’t think I have the stomach for it. I can’t even handle the one-nighters anymore. Forgive me for this, but Virgos tend to wash their hands of messy situations.

When I treat people (men) courteously I feel like a phony. Makes me physically ill to act like I care about you (whoever you might be) and I have never been the kind of girl that is “nice” for the sake of “nice”. This has cost me many things, probably, but what have I missed? The heart doesn’t grieve for what the eyes do not see… (actually that is BS, and I have proven it)

If I care about you I will do anything for you, but if I don’t know you…who gives a shit? The few friends I have (not the roomies, that’s family) constantly tell me that I act tough to hide my mushy interior, but what they really mean is I am a pain in the ass but they love me anyway. I would just come out and say you are a pain in the ass. And then laugh at your reaction.

I have just enough crazy in me to get turned on by the chaos of emotion. I love seeing someone angry, embarrassed, hurt, bleeding…etc etc but I take it very personally when someone tries it with me. I love your feelings, I don’t want to shake hands with mine.

When I go out, I sit back and wait for whatever fate tosses my way. I watch, and I make up entire relationships in my head with the people (men) around me that strike my fancy. By the time you come up to say “hello” we have already known each other for years. We have fought, made up, dealt with serious issues and betrayed one another. You have been lined up with every other man I know and been scrutinized, elevated to heights (that would make you nauseous had you been aware of it), and then smacked down to the lowest rank possible.

You are dead before you hit the ground, in other words. No matter what you are or what you do you will not live up to the dizzying heights of my imagination. Don’t touch my mojo hand.

Drank too much
And I said too much
And there’s nowhere to go – but Down

About me

I am great.
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