Cleansing Last night I went to a very beautiful Yule ceremony hosted by wolfie. There were some people I already knew, and some people I didn’t. It was a very interesting night, and my first time since my 20’s going someplace where there would be some drunkenness and debauchery, but I wasn’t specifically hunting for D or specifically not hunting for D. It was a good, familiar feeling I hadn’t felt for a long time: let it ride. I’m back to talking to strangers like people and not like potential enemies.

I found myself much less awkward even though wolfie was somehow in a Santa suit and yet half naked at the same time. He’d ripped his pants as usual. I met some interesting folks I hope to see again. The food was just awesome. The mead was as well. We had some that wolfie brewed and some made by Devil. He has that nickname now because he made this awesome red berry bloodmead that was just one of the best things I ever swallowed in my life. We did the 48 rounds. By the time I got home, I was fairly wasted but in a good way. I managed to hydrate before I fell asleep so the hangover wasn’t too bad.

I’m very excited about the coming year. I had another good talk with Papa 2 today, and this time I was giving him some advice about being self employed. Holiday season sucks unless you’re selling something fairly standard. November and December, folks are buying food and gifts, so if you’re not selling either, you have to start putting aside in summer for the winter. There’s a minor hit in summer due to vacationing, but instructors are used to that. The big slow is the last two months of the year.

After the new year things will be picking up. In February though, I’m having the left knee replaced. I’ve got just about everything I need. I even got the two big bags of corn schnitzel so nobody will starve the two or three weeks I’ll be unable to cook. Thankfully the weather won’t be as hot as last time, so I can get out and walk more. Things are looking positive. I should be okay by the next Oshun ebbo. I might even be able to get down and up the stairs to the Kineret. We’ll see.

The Kracken is back in Israel, but he hasn’t come to see me because he has the flu. I wonder if he whose name is unlucky to utter in the rainy season is protecting me from him. He’s been telling me all sorts of sweet things, but I take them with a grain of salt. The bad ending of that was some years ago, and he may have grown up some, but things have changed for me too. I learned some things from that heartbreak.

What was different about it is that we did talk for years before we met. He was one of my fans. Though he admired me, and there was a bit of tension there, I wasn’t really expecting anything to come of it. It took the reasonable demisexual course. We have a lot in common. I’m pretty sure if my parents met him, they’d want to adopt him if they could “save his soul”. When it’s not about stuff he’d like to do to me, we talk like siblings. The problem is that we talked like siblings and he was like a stupid little brother.

It wasn’t like Longstroke. Honestly, I had to make a bit of distance there because even though he’s not as snobby and intellectual as me, he was forming up nicely, and that was going to lead nowhere good because I am not his dream. Last time we saw each other was after things didn’t work out between him and another friend of mine. It took every bit of my self control not to sit on him to comfort him. Every bit.

The Kracken is even more snobby and intellectual than me, though we both have our snobbiness in check. He was just too stubborn and inflexible about the wrong things. In a way, I admired the fact that he wouldn’t allow our relationship to monkey wrench his mission at the time, but I wasn’t asking for but a little time and consistent communication. He couldn’t handle that, and neglected me, so that ended.

Diva is still angry with him. She believes his ego is too big, and well, I kinda have to agree. I mean, it was, but I’m not sure if right now that is what is driving him with regards to me. If he doesn’t make some time when he gets over this flu, then we know this was all to assure himself that he could get me back if he said some nice things. If he does, don’t know what’s going to happen.

I’m just going with the flow. I’ve already learned to live without him. My circle is complete. If he wants to add something to it, then he’d better show some motivation for me like he does for his mission. I understand that a man needs to pursue greatness in his way, and I will never stand in the way of that. If I am with someone, I am their pit crew like my parents are for each other. I had excellent role models in this. I watched them both make mistakes and correct them. One mistake I’m not going to make is ignoring or denying my needs just to be overly supportive of someone else. Sometimes necessity means I can’t always have what I want, but we should be able to meet each other’s needs sometimes, or at least be trying to.

Anyway, the Kracken was very difficult to forget. I managed though, mostly. I even manage to be able to sleep in the bed in the room where the deeds were done sometimes, without weeping. The problem is that part of the reason there’s no weeping is that I understand it wasn’t all a lie. He wasn’t a total stranger. He was a guy who I knew had gone through some stuff and was overwhelmed and didn’t have the tools to cope at the time. His stupid was man stupid not parasite stupid or psycho stupid. Without enough experience and no mentors with a vested interest in his wellbeing, how else was he supposed to be?

But pity has no place in mate selection. It doesn’t matter why he failed, just that he did. The why matters if we’re going to stay friends. If he’s going to try to be my mate, he must do better or I’m just not going to have the necessary lubrication. I am no longer going on good faith and maybes. I am no longer imagining that I am the Falcor to anyone’s Atreyu or the Goliath to anyone’s Etienne. Until there is real life trust, it’s just not getting me hot.

I hope all of you out there have a happy holiday season and a great 2020.


My pronouns are whatever you're comfortable with as long as you speak to me with respect. I'm an Afruikan and Iswa refugee living in Canaan. That's African American expat in Israel in Normalian. I build websites, make art, and assist people in exercising their spirituality. I'm also the king of an ile, Baalat Teva, a group of African spirituality adherents here. Feel free to contact me if you are in need of my services or just want to chat.

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