Witchy woman

I’m really good at making things happen out of thin air. I write them as fiction or just send an intention out into the universe, and somehow someone out there listens.

Before NYC was even a glimmer in my eye…even before I’d dated a single person, I’d written the story. I thought I was writing an outrageous tale. Really I was writing terrible, terrible fiction. But the spark of a new life was there. It took a few years to manifest. And when it finally did, I was the most surprised of all. I should take this time to apologize to anyone who read the manuscript. It was truly awful, but, without it, I would never have learned how to write or had the courage to chase dreams.

So, I know the power exists now. It makes me cautious about wanting anything before I’ve had time to think it through, but bold in asking for what I want. Even when I think I know what I want and it comes true to my chagrin, there are always lessons learned. Some of them doozies even. I could tell you a recent one, but it isn’t time yet.

I’m at the point where I need new friends. The ones I made in NYC on my previous trips here were great, but I’m not sure most of them were forever friends. As I’ve learned to stand on my own two feet, I’ve learned that I’ve been doing the heavy lifting for friends who either have big ambitions and zero follow through or zero ambition and a hefty amount of damage. I feel like I’ve been babysitting comets the past few months.

I don’t do well as the heavy in a friendship. I can do it, of course. I’m levelheaded and pretty patient. But when my patience is down to zero because it’s been taken advantage of, I’m out. No warning. I’m just out. I do much better as the lighthearted, spontaneous friend. I don’t want to mother another coke binge in my life.

So what attributes would this new friend have?

  • Maturity: irrespective of chronological age, I want a friend who can hold down a job, pay bills, and take care of their needs.
  • Spontaneous: fun things tend to happen in the absence of plans.
  • Respectful of time: I really can’t stand a friend who makes plans and then postpones, postpones, postpones until we’re racing against the light to get to the beach or Green-Wood cemetery or the Brooklyn Library because they can’t manage their time and they don’t respect anyone else’s. This is not spontaneity. That’s just being an asshole.
  • Respectful of my art: I don’t need a sycophant or a fan. I just need someone who understands what I do and respects it. The problems in the past have come from people who consider themselves artists but have never shared their art out of cowardice. That’s not an artist. That’s a hobbyist. This is a problem because they will project their insecurities onto me and I’ve already done the hard work to call myself a creative, share my work with the world, and work towards getting better. There are a lot of people in NYC who talk a big game but never put their money where their mouths are. Fuck ’em. If they’re grown and they still aren’t making an effort to get their names out there for proven work, it ain’t never gonna happen. And they will never respect what I do.
  • Brilliant and confident: I can’t hang with dummies. I can do it for a night. But I will crack under pressure and dip the fuck out of a conversation.
  • Not broken: you have no idea how hard this is to find. There are a lot of broken people walking around NYC. They’re depressed. They’re in denial. They’re making bad choices left and right. They blame their problems on anyone within reach or on “bad luck” which never has and never will exist. And they want to drag you down with them. They are energy vampires and toxic motherfuckers.
  • Game recognizers: I’ve had friends who don’t get it. They don’t see that I can hold my own in the world. They worry about me, maybe even pity me a bit. And then, in public, they start pointing out when men check me out or straight up hit on me. They are weirded out when women compliment me on the street. They’re perplexed. And then they get jealous. I wish I were kidding. They don’t like playing second fiddle during a night on the town. They don’t see what other people see. Let me be emphatic about this: it’s not my fault. If I’m outshining you, up your game. I’m a shiny thing and magpies will always abound. I’m not trying to attract attention or divert it from anyone else. I’ve been second fiddle to gorgeous woman and never once did I feel like it detracted from who I was. Hold your own or don’t, but don’t resent me because I can and do. And never call me lucky. This has nothing to do with luck.

I know this sounds super bitchy. But I have put up with so much in the past because I settled for people who ultimately were not worth the effort long term. Look, everyone has value. I’m not here to call anyone a loser. But I can’t be constantly leaned on. If you have your shit together you get more than half a chance. If I see you progressing and working on yourself, I will be your biggest cheerleader. What I cannot be is an emotional punching bag. No one should be.

Bring the good one’s on. I’m excited to meet them.

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