Tuesday, January 24, 2017


Last night he wrote, asking me for money. "Donation" was his word of choice.

I called him. He explained. In legitimate self-defense, I used his strategy and became ice. I wished him goodnight, hung up, went back to bed. He called within the next second. From there, conversation couldn't be anything healthy, so I just braced myself. We've been in this for months now. And the inevitable happened. From ice, I became FIRE.

I said all I wanted. I vented. My rage and anger and resentment all came out, whether it was all necessary or not. Helpful or not. Wise or not. I just didn't care. I don't remember who hung up, but I felt terribly bad afterwards, like I was too cruel to him. After all, I love him. So I called him back. Drama, baby, I was apparently thirsty and insatiable for it.

"Was I too harsh with you?"

Third time is a charm, so conversation was better this time. But he progressively showed his true colours: narcissistic, inconsiderate, cruel. I felt even worse for ever feeling bad for him, and I hung up.

I wanted to call him again tonight, but I didn't. I learned my lesson last night, and I came to write instead. From fire, I became water.

Eventually I will learn to thaw from ice to water without having to burn in flames in the process.

Sunday, January 22, 2017

A prayer for commitment

It's been almost exactly 10 years since I stopped working my penmanship magic round here. I admit I forgot what I wrote about, but the process itself is still very much alive in my memory: what started as a rant inevitably led to an unexpected insight, or gradually shifted vibration during the writing and ascended towards a very inspiring revelation, with an experience of upliftment that would be felt by all my loyal readers on Tribe.net too. Real. Very, very good days.

But I forsook my magic. I betrayed it, just like the last two men I've loved these past ten years have betrayed me. Why? Because just like they were enticed and seduced by other men, I was lured away from my power, my nature and my Truth. Consistenly, I have let myself lose faith and interest in my own process and worthiness, to gain acceptance, harmony in relationship and approval. Bad idea, immaturity and a terrible investment, but alas, I didn't know better then.

I am now in the middle of a small life makeover (again). I start a new job in March, my fickle social circle is changing again, I am finally, mentally letting go of my abusive ex-boyfriend that has been my worst addiction ever. Writing myself through the vicissitudes will help me comfort myself, shine my light, recount on the go, digest, recollect, take it in stride. Make magic. Live in clarity and passion. The way I used to. The way we all should.

Please, blog, let me commit to you again, like I once did and like nobody else has ever committed to me.