Cheating (An Essay)

(My response to a lame Netflix documentary)

Cheating isn’t a ‘mistake’.

It’s a choice.

It’s a decision to hide and to deceive.

Over and over and over again.

And…

It’s a weak and powerless move / series of moves.

Because it’s ‘easier’ to sneak around than to muster the strength to be fully transparent with the one you claim you love and ‘risk’ whatever comes from that.

And of course you have your reasons (excuses) to not live in truth.

Everyone does.

Reasons to not demonstrate love for yourself and another by being honest about what already is.

You’re scared.

You have something to ‘lose’.

You don’t want to hurt them.

Whatever the fuck.

Still weak.

Still powerless.

Still not taking full responsibility for yourself and your choices and doing what needs to be done.

Being with others isn’t an issue.

Hiding that you are, is.

And even that isn’t the real ‘issue’.

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The Next Isn't Better (An Essay)

I’d rather do the work within the current dynamic than to swap it out for another supposedly easier and better ride.

Because the next one won’t be ’better’.

The same work will meet me there, too.

So I do it from exactly where I am.

From whatever I find myself in.

The ‘next’ I actually want and crave,

will arise naturally from that.

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Good Morning (An Essay)

It’s about going to bed and waking up empty.

Completely at peace.

Detached from all of it.

Having done whatever was required that day to untangle yourself from whatever web you got yourself into.

It’s about dealing with the inner mess / movement / turmoil until you’re still and empty once again.

Until you stop caring at all.

Not in a heartless way.

In the purest way.

The way you already are underneath all that you are not.

It’s the detachment from caring about what does or doesn’t happen.

About what is or isn’t happening.

The sweetest and most natural place to be.

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If You're Looking For A Sign (An Essay)

You don’t need something outside of yourself to access truth.

No decks, no horoscopes, no numbers.

No ‘signs’ of any kind at all.

You already know what you need to know.

But since you don’t trust that knowing,

you seek confirmation,

validation,

a sense of direction,

from anywhere but HERE.

Acting as if something external wields more power and wisdom than the god that you are.

And even if you do manage to ‘get’ the answer from these placebos,

it’s not because they contained something you didn’t.

The answer was never in those things to begin with.

It was inside of you all along.

You just decided to take the long way around because you weren’t willing to trust what you know.

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Touché, Bitch (An Essay)

Talking with a friend in a relationship that’s been the biggest NO forfuckingever…

Her: “But I love his family.”

Me: “More than you love yourself?”

Her: “Touché, bitch.”

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P.S. If you’ve never referred to me as ‘bitch’ (not ‘a bitch’ — although that would still be a compliment), do you even love me?

And if I haven’t called you ‘bitch’ while hyped up in a private convo / message / work call, either celebrating you or calling you out, do I even love you?

Of course.

But it’s still fun to ponder.

Trust No One (An Essay)

Ultimately,

I don’t trust anybody.

I don’t need to.

I trust my knowing.

I trust myself.

And therefore, every move by proxy.

Which is why…

I don’t require another to be ‘trustworthy’.

I know when truth is present and when it’s not.

Which has nothing to do with the person.

And everything to do with the now.

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Obliteration Dance (An Essay)

I chose him precisely because of the density.

The grit.

For the perceived dysfunction that would highlight my own so I could erect what had long been limp.

I used him to purify myself.

To be stripped even further.

To stay until nothing was left.

From the outside, it looked insane.

And to my human, it felt like hell.

But obliteration was what I was after.

Why else would I have danced right there?

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Mandyland Math (An Essay)

Right now new math is swirling around the internet.

There’s boy math.

Girl math.

Even gay math.

So here’s some Mandyland Math:

1. The less you care, the more you love.

2. What’s in line with the being feels out of line to the human.

3. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING (especially every so-called ‘bad’ thing), makes you more, regardless of what you’ve ‘lost’.

4. You gotta go where it hurts to feel better.

5. The saner you are, the more insane you (and they) appear.

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The Passive Goodbye (An Essay)

“I wish things could be different.”

Translation: “I wish I could stay the same and also have you put up with all that entails, but since you’re holding me accountable and I’d need to do the actual work required of me for us to continue, I guess this is the end. But if you change your mind and want to settle for even less in the future, you can always count on me.”

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