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forebear is a real word.
she''s crying a little bit because she had to get angry and chase the orange cat out of her house that wasn''t even her house - a charity house - and it wanted to do what it wanted to do and she wanted to do what she wanted to do. The small kind tiny part of her hated so much to be mean that it made her cry to even think about it.
But there was another part of her that stepped in (IFS anyone) the protector part. She claps her hands and feels mild rage at this tiny orange animal who just runs from her with his little orange tail high in the air. She doesn''t know why she wants him out of the house but she says to him out loud "get out of my house. I''m so tired of you needing me and wanting things. I like to give things, but I hate to be nagged at. Fuck you. leave me alone."
And it''s an ancient pattern.
She''s aware.
Not that that does anything.
When you feed a cat even a tiny tiny meaningless to you morsel, it becomes something the cat expects. When you feed it every time it screams, you teach it a lesson.
Humans who feed can''t expect the eaters to not want it.
How could she say that more elegantly? She absolutely insisted on not being used like an unpaid whore. What was she getting? attention. yippee (not to knock it, attention was nothing to sneeze at). She had always thought she would be a great whore as she feels kind of pretty good at getting a man to feel hot, but she suspects it''s because she allows herself to really care. It''s almost as if every man she makes love to she actually has to love a little. It''s weird, and she''s done with it - she wishes she could be the lust person - lust it up - fuck fuck fuck and bye bye. She didn''t even really believe any female could do that - they all just have to close something off to do it.
And what did she feel? angry
what is anger? a secondary emotion
What''s behind it? "I feel exactly like when my dad vomited on everything I was just to get off on my body."
But this is a different - your eyes are open and you consent - why would you feel this way? because there''s nothing there. I can''t even pretend to myself .... and I weep as I write this - I don''t look at sex as ... it means a lot to me... haven''t you seen it?
What if no one is interested in your crazy brain and all you''re good for is sex? welcome to my nightmare
The orange cat bathes himself next to her...already back in
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