The way Tom Waits says it, or screeches it. That man has a voice like velvet coated gravel. I love it.
Always liked him. I’ve been known to pull on Trouble’s Braids, and slip out nights with Gin Soaked Boys.
His voice is among those that narrate my inner dialog.
I posted this yesterday…
“Ever go for a hang out with an ex…an ex you were super attracted to.
You talk and laugh and catch up like it hasn’t been a year since you saw them last and halfway through the hang out you hear a weird noise and you realize it’s your vagina yawning because she is bored. Cool going home any time now.
Ya, that happened.
There was much laughter and commentary upon the Facebook.
To be clear, Vagina did not slam shut. Just said something she rarely says ie. ‘nah, we good.’
He’s a stunning creature, his laugh sounds like angels, his energy is refreshing and he smells good.
What the fuck Vagina?
She gets as much say as Brain, Logic and Heart. Works better that way.
They all held an emergency meeting and just let her have her way, purely out of shock I think.
For a while now I have had a solid foundation built on 4 Michaels.
He was one.
I was doing research on what love meant. They were my control group.
4 Michaels and I loved them. Still do.
Just don’t want to fuck ’em anymore.
This is new.
10 days new.
One of them has been an integral part of my being for a long time, like almost as long as I have been a conscious being. He popped up to say ‘hey’. Tom Waits screamed TEMPTATION the answer was the same thing…’NOPE’. Brain, Logic, Heart and Vagina in unison, rowdy kids. Ego weighed in too with a solemn nod.
I said before my bridges are flame retardant, but another Michael managed to find a loophole and burned that fucker to the ground with his napalm mouth and volatile ego. I don’t want to say good riddance, but good riddance. Even Hercules would have said, ‘I ain’t touching that’. He’s a bullwhipped dog. Too far gone. Nothing left to do but put him down. Mercy killing.
The last of the Michaels got a check in during last Saturday’s Bat signal confusion, and he said he was alright. Like really alright, for the first time in a long time. Heart said ‘good’ and went back to colouring in her blanket fort. No stress or duress. Just good. Let go.
There was a tangible sensation of a weight being lifted with all 4.
Whatever connection existed has been re-routed. Tearing, hacking, ripping, burning, passionate love replaced with passive, friendly, easy, content love. I’m happy you are happy, the end. Attachments have fallen away. Attraction rendered null and void. I can think someone is beautiful and not want to fuck them, I can revel in someone’s energy and leave it at that. This is really liberating, this lack of covet and conquer.
At the beginning of the year I read this
“The Greek god Zeus had seven wives. Themis, Leto, Eurynome, and Hera were among them. Another was his older sister Demeter, and a sixth was his aunt Mnemosyne. Then there was the sea nymph Metis. Unfortunately, he ate Metis — literally devoured her — which effectively ended their marriage. In 2015, Gemini, I encourage you to avoid Zeus’s jumbled, complicated approach to love and intimacy. Favor quality over quantity. Deepen your focus rather than expanding your options. Most importantly, make sure your romantic adventures never lead to you feeling fragmented or divided against yourself. This is the year you learn more than ever before about what it’s like for all the different parts of you to be united.”
I had been single for a year at that point and everything in me screamed NO, fuck that I want to play. I had barely begun living after living in a self-created prison for pretty much ever. I didn’t want to go back on lockdown. I needed to explore myself. I had some serious lack of love and sex to make up for. 10 years of bland British bullshit. I have said it before and will say it again, I don’t lie back and think of England. I will not watch my mouth or my manners, my libido does not need to be put in check. Keep up or get walking.
I left that decade believing I was ‘too much’ for someone to ‘handle’.
Took me a year to shake that Stockholm Syndrome. Birds are not meant for cages, nor am I.
This ‘letting go and focusing’ felt like some Herculean task and I was in a decidedly Nymph mindset. Not feeling heroic at all, just horny as fuck. Loving my crushes and wiggling around in the sensation of being loved and crushed. Throwing myself at everything and seeing what happened. No way I wanted to calm down and focus. Who tells a Gemini to focus?
Are you out of your fucking mind?
I wanna Tango till I’m Sore.
This is the third part of the extended astrological forecast for Geminis.
We are now entering the third part of 2015. Tucked right in it I believe.
Rob Brezsny is rarely wrong in hindsight. I have 22 years of anecdotal proof that is my life.
I knew I had to do what he said.
I had no idea how the fuck I was going to let go. I tell people to let shit go all the time, meanwhile I am over here hoarding feelings like Smaug with gold. Had Tom Waits singing ‘you’ve got to hold on’ on a loop in my head.
I skipped forward a few tracks…I was no longer handcuffed to the bishop and the barbershop liar.
I have rearranged my thinking to be a little less like a toddler always asking ‘why’.
I don’t need to know why. I have to listen, interpret the signs as best I can and just roll with it. I don’t have hope, hope implies something might go wrong, and there is no wrong. I simply have faith that I will get where I am going if I do what I am supposed to do.
There is a freedom, a weightlessness and lightness that comes from letting go of these crushes I had. They call them crushes for a reason.
So, I …doused everything in the house, torched it,
parked across the street, laughing
watching it burn, all Halloween
orange and chimney red.
I did the thing.
Now I’m all shiny, clean and free for whatever comes next.
*Italics=Tom Waits lyrics