The Moment When the Well Runs Dry

I’m sure an old person, or a criminal, at one point delivered the following wise words: don’t piss off people who know where the bodies are buried because they lent you the shovel.  I am typically a low key person no matter what people do, say or infer about me.  It’s just my style to make a public scene which has worked out well for any number of my ex partners who never had to worry about me showing up to a wedding ceremony to inform the bride to be that I helped him get dressed that morning or call a wife’s job to let her know her husband offered to fly me out post vasectomy to help him drain off all those nuts to make sure his little swimmers were done and dusted over the course of a weekend.  After all he was sure it would take at least a month with her and he didn’t want any oops babies.  I’d be providing a much needed service.  Yeah miss me with that bullshit. My point is I don’t typically call people out on their bullshit because really what’s the point.  They won’t change. People who don’t know the whole story will take sides and still another group see me showing my proverbial ass and that’s just not how I get down.  So quite a few people have benefited from my desire to keep my business to myself.

The thing is I’m kind of fucking tired of that.  Because the biggest offenders aren’t people that I have fucked so well they basically put a fatwa out on anyone that would try to see me after they had departed the area.  The biggest offenders, if not the most frequent, are my female friends.  That should be former friends.  My actual female crew, folks that have seen me ugly cry, ventured with me through the ringer and back with some of the aforementioned dudes, who have seen me through graduations, the loss of my father, near loss of my mother, well those folks can and always well get the benefit of my shovel services.  But there have been a few folks that I have let continue to overstep and without fail they end up doing the same shit in different ways.

There’s a random moment of disconnect, nothing that would immediately fracture the friendship but something only one of us would continue to focus on.  Regardless of what transpires over the ensuing months and in some cases years that disconnect ends up causing a rift that won’t be gotten over cause yeah when only one of you knows there’s an issue the other one can’t fix it.  Now as friendships sometimes naturally do you start exploring things with people who have more in common with your immediate life.  I have never taken that personally cause shit things happen.  What I do start to take personally and then pull back from on my own is intense needs for attention that aren’t reciprocated.  I start to feel some kind of way about a sudden neediness to be viewed in a positive light.  But the shit that does it for me and makes me go fuck this like for real for real is an inability for the “offended” party to see how we got to wherever we are.  It’s some new fangled victimization shit that I find both fascinating and slightly diagnosable.  Especially when those folks are suddenly knee deep in relationships with people they used to speak about in less than flattering tones.  But as the old adage goes if they’re willing to bad mouth someone with you just wonder what they are saying about you behind your back.

I will be returning to my normal programming as soon as I hit send.  If you think this is about someone you know, maybe, but you won’t hear it from me because again that’s not entirely how I get down.  Truth be told it’s about no one in particular but has been festering for a while because I have this ridiculously stupid tendency to hold my tongue much longer than I need to in order to spare folks feelings.  I might be giving up on that mission now too.  My brain is channeling 2Pac right now: I ain’t a killa but don’t push me, revenge is like the sweetest joy next to getting pussy.  Maybe I need a station break with Prince.

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