assholes · empowerment · fucktards

Fucktards on Parade

Summer is slipping away and I imagine myself in my sunglasses, with a cocktail in hand, sitting in a beach chair on some piece of sidewalk, and throwing my head back in laughter. Raucous laughter, tinkling-bells laughter, the kind that makes your sides hurt. Even as I laugh, my bank account is being drained by ex Fucktard. Fucktard is parading before my eyes, family in tow. They move like the Borg. Oh look how stiffly they strut! Hahahha! Look how oddly they purse their conceited lips! OMG do people really do that??  Look at how they slightly part their mouth…like fake queens. Hahhahhhaaaa!   The Borg, I tell you. If you insult one, you’ve insulted them all. If one hates you, they all hate you. They are like perfectly synchronized swimmers. Only they are synchronized fucktards. Or enmeshed, if you will.

I had to come to a place of laughter because not six hours before, I was crying. I was crying because I had received yet  another legal hassle. I was crying at the iniquity and injustice of it all. I was crying because my heart just couldn’t believe it. And that is a good reason to cry…it isn’t good or right or even human to continue a court battle five years after divorce.

I spoke with a friend today-a good, supportive friend-and he said, “Can’t you DO something?” And he rattled off all the things I’ve thought of and that others have thought of over the years. I even went into fix-it mode again, and wanted so badly to corral the fucktard parade in a tiny room and confront them once and for all. I wanted them to HEAR me, loud and clear. Then the voice of logic spoke up and said, “You want to put yourself in a room with five unreasonable people who have no history of reasonability and reason with them?” Yeah, I had my own moment of totally fucked.

But I reminded myself that Fucktard had been nice earlier in the week, and after years of being sucked in by nice behavior, I finally learned to step back and assess the situation. The only time he is “nice” is when he has accomplished some feat of retaliation. It isn’t being “nice”, it’s gloating. And today, my suspicions were confirmed. More legal bullshit was hurled my way by this “nice” man, as retaliation for my setting a very strong and reasonable boundary.

I get in trouble when I behave as if fucktards are normal. Meaning, normal people will respond well if you are nice to them. Fucktards will stab you in the back. Normal people can have a heart, even when they are angry. Fucktards simply don’t care how much of a mess they make and will never open their heart. Normal people will account for their part in things. They may be stubborn or initially resistant, but normal people care about their relationships and will do the grunt work necessary to make things right. Fucktards just care about their own petty, self-centered impulses. Normal people care if your kids have food to eat at your house. Fucktards want your kids to suffer when they are with you so he can look like Super Dad. Makes perfect sense. right? Um, no.

So what is there left to do but accept it? It is a completely ridiculous situation in a completely ridiculous system with an utterly foolish cast of fucktards. What can you do but  sit back and watch those petty fools?

You know what being a bitch is? It’s not letting those fuckers rob your soul. Oh yeah, it’s sad and mind-numbing and expensive and completely fucked up. But I’m not part of the fucktard parade any more. I used to be, and what a good fan I was even as I tried to walk along with them. But life as a spectator to farce? Life as an awakened woman? Life as an aware person who is on to those fuckers? PRICELESS. I am so happy to abandon that sick march and watch from the sidelines with my soul intact.

 

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