lady gaga - alehandro (I think I misspelled that)
REblogging (as per The Girl's nagging about it - it is kinda nutty to UNblog all the time just because my mood changes later whatever. she's right, life doesn't come with an eraser on the end after all):
I went to a Beltane (May 1) picnic festival thing today with Sunnie and her hubby Jeffrey and our friend Fraya. The drumming was cool, I like to dance around by myself, it's like a volley ball vibe only set to music kinda. It was pretty hot out, humid, which felt good. Some dufus named "Cash" tried flirting with me, though, and killed my goddessbuzz. And as per usual my friends, who try flirting FOR me, get annoyed as I retreat completely. I walked away and left J and "Cash" sitting on the grass talking about my boots.
The only guy who looked remotely attractive to me today was the Amish dude in a carriage we passed on the country highway.
Ears says, of gooey weird foods like au gratin potatoes, "I just can't like it" - I know what he means and how utterly depressing it is to fail at the simplest likings. People tell me I'm good looking, or successful, nice whatever, as if the problem is that I don't think I'm at all desirable. Why else would I go sooo long undesired unless I think I deserve that? But I can see for myself that my legs are okay looking in that pic, and besides people find love all over the place and it's not about how they look or what they have. Today the ugliest fucker I ever laid eyes on got down on one knee and proposed to his equally ugly girlfriend, and they were clearly happy and I was . . . not jealous exactly . . . just apart. I found FPH, he had his hands shoved in his pockets and walked a Princess Di distance behind his own friends, retreating under his hat brim, and I felt "I know you" and I loved him the way you do a person who has your own blood, as suits me, with food and little fanfair. I unexpectedly tripped over Scarecrow, huddled and curled around pain in a darkness, babying his fears of divorce and failure like he babies his broken arm - for a second I wanted to reach my hand out to see if the healing could go both ways, he wanted me to but he didn't need that (much), he just needed someone to care and he mended with my word bandages and went back to his normal woman, full of childlike joy to show off what he'd made, himself whole again. I'm grateful for these men in my life. These are bonds rooted miles deep in me. In FPH's case, if I hadn't found that man, I'd have died where I was and never been kissed the way I learned I like.
So I'm not full of self-pity over men, quite the contrary. Ya know how likely it was that I was going to die bitter? Like, almost a SURE BET: violent father, drug-disappeared first husband, abusive second husband, alone for years . . . but instead of bitter, I feel over-full of affection. I just need a "No" man to tell me "Okay", I need to find him, aloof and apart himself in some way that I solve, I need to bring him my deep well of quiet and my pretty legs. But I think I have to accept that this will be as far as I got, where I am right now: Okay until some wax apple tries to chat me up, reminding me that I'm hungry but offering me nothing I want.
