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When an idea that has been chasing your brain for the past weeks/months/years finally takes form and then you’ve GOT to put it on pen and paper, but now that you “figured it out”, you’re so ready to move on and yet you feel fucking compelled to write it down…yeah, that’s now.

I had a BFF from the time I was 22 till I was 24 (abrupt ending). I always thought that at least a part of me came back “difficult” from my first time doing psychedelics; I was secretly rejoiced when I read a scientific article saying that doing psychedelics might increase your anxiety levels or paranoid thinking (same thing really, just very different outcomes); I thought (or wanted to think) that at least a part of me had unjustly walked away from that bond. And wow, did I cry about her. I think in the tears shed over that lost bond campaign, excluding family, only the breakup with my latest ex finally took her crown. She was that important to me.

And I’m not necessarily disputing the findings of that article, I’m proposing causation: ayahuasca made me more alert to what was going on around me…which wasn’t a super nice environment to begin with. I had already come back, actually, but in the following week or so, I just remember one day waking up crying and thinking…this isn’t a good friend of mine. And the dream hadn’t been fantastic or anything. It was just putting on focus some of her behaviors that had gone unexplained in the past. How she acted a bit cagey when her fuck buddy called her (they were also friends so, it was normal he called, abnormal that she sort of pulled away from the table/our walk/whatever to talk to him, since they weren’t talking about sexual stuff). And other shit, but this post is about him actually, so I’ll dive into that point. One time, she didn’t walk away enough, and I could tell they were talking about me, and I heard him say new shoes. And she laughed her ass off, and said yeah, we’ll go get some later.

You know what’s actually funny? A racist’s face when you ask them to explain the joke. At least I gotta thank him for being a non-relative that identified my race back in LatAm, as I went these whole 34 years thinking I was more Indigenous looking than Black. So, he was just calling to shoot the shit, she told him she was with me, he asked her if she was going with me to buy new shoes because all slaves are barefoot and I’m Black and new to this freedom thing.

Don’t you just love your best friends?

It’s not that the joke was racial, it’s that it was racial behind my back. I had never had heard that thought formulated until Dave Chappelle explained why he stopped doing his show, because he realized he was bringing unbridled glee to racists who just loved how much fun he made of other Black people…which was not his intention at all. So, thank you Dave Chappelle for that, and fuck you for your deep ass misogyny and crater-deep misogynoir. Since (I thought) we were BFFs, we were always talking about imagined scenarios, and she’s got a great comedic mind, and timing (for real). So we had Fun. Lots of it. I love love LOVE imagined scenarios. And so one time we were talking about making some sort of food product, and the logo would be up to me, and I said: well, clearly, we need to evoke colonial times and you need to be in an old-timey dress looking angry at me from a porch, and I’ll be in a field, but with a titty out, because sales.

And she used to laugh so hard at that. And I get it, I’m funny (and I will be the first to admit, pre-psychedelics, I was a fucking riot. Now all I care about is doing the right thing and more boring shit). But I could tell that her laugh had more depth and meaning than the lightheartedness with which my joke was intended. My joke had a racial component, most definitely, but I was laughing about it as an absurdity, not a fucking historical, comfortable-to-her callback.

The friendship dissolved for more things, but that one is definitely the one that hurt the most. She didn’t deny what she had laughed about, I didn’t pursue it further in that moment, and maybe later we could’ve had an honest conversation about it but I was just so hurt. So heartbroken. There was just no going back for me. It’s the racism of it all, but most importantly, the betrayal. You think you know someone…

So, psychedelics haven’t really made me more paranoid, or anxious, or anything like that. Mama Aya did, however, made more addicted to the truth, and lessened my endurance for bullshit. It made me feel harder, both the good and the bad. When she broke my heart in that way, I knew that I could never make the choice of going back. This was a topic that we had talked about (and its humor!). She was choosing to laugh about me behind my back, TO MY FACE! That’s not a sister.

She’s no friend of mine. Nor was she.

You truly can’t count on love and good feelings in the future, but as you grow a relationship with someone, I thought it was natural to consider some things to be a given, but I wasn’t in the mindspace to analyze and observe my relationships because, duh, that was literally almost a decade before I went into trauma therapy. But at least Mama Aya did warn me about who to stay away from. Like the great Maya Angelou once said:

And ironically, in her mind, I’m the evildoer because the friendship ended abruptly and without reason. And she’s far from ever going to therapy so, to her, I’m the villain. Ain’t this some shit.

So, this friend of hers. He was in my peripheric group of Facebook friends, not a complete stranger but also not a buddy of mine. She brought him once to have drinks at my place with one of our transient BFFs, the friend of the guy I was so infatuated with. He is very funny, but in social situations, he cannot help but bring the humor to making fun of someone, even if it’s himself. Forever anxious (which I guess it’s why Joan Rivers always said that the great comedians are such a bore irl, cause they can never chill).

He was cool. Not my favorite person, not a disliked person. The time I came back from my second trip, a few years later, he visited (or was it during that first trip? I don’t think so. Can’t remember). Ah! I do owe him some gratitude. I was so infatuated with my (alleged) BFF’s student mentor, and I was telling him how hopeful I was that his on-and-off visits would mean he’d eventually make a move or something (when I’m head over heels about someone, I don’t fuck them. It’s a relationship or nothing). And he disabused me of that notion. He said: L, he’s coming to see you for an ego boost. He knows how you feel about him, and he’s not planning to say or do anything about it. He does love how you look at him, how you hang on to his every word, that’s why he goes to see you. Put him out of your mind for good.

Ah, yes. First trip. Because I wanted my (alleged) sister to experience the great insights I had had during aya, so we did a session in the city. Now, the communal drinking of a psychedelic is bound to have mixed up energies (to some degree), and bound to be influenced by whatever the latest thing in your mind was. And many other things. It takes time, practice, and concentration, to do that and to REMIND yourself that you’re there to ask Mama Aya (yourself) about the big questions in life.

I came out of that session thinking the love of my life was my “friend’s” former BFF (she was deep into the discovery and exploration of her bisexuality, and had been for some months now). There was no jealousy there, not anything like that. I guess I was glad and appreciative that he had unveiled a tiny inch of the toxic male fabric for me, for my benefit. When you’re craving truth, even the tiniest scrap can feel like “meant to be” when you’re tripping out of your ass.

That may have been one of the first (if not the first) misguided vision I had in psychedelics, but in its own way, my brain told me it was a non-starter: he was missing in my vision, and I remember crying, thinking, should I call the police? check the morgues? what, what am I supposed to do? And coming down from it, yeah, I knew it was a no-go because he wasn’t attracted to me (he’d fuck a pinecone if it was in any way responsive, lol, but again, Love is Love, sex ain’t it), and also, because I didn’t like him. Not really, at least.

That was another one of my sister‘s betrayals. She fucking told him! I didn’t care that much, but still, you’re bringing my business to everyone now? Fucking POS. It was about her, and her choices.

Still. Couple of years later, when she was out of my life and he remained peripherally in mine, I introduced him to another friend of mine (I’M SORRY MAMA AYA FOR THINKING YOU MADE ME PARANOID. THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME SEE THE PEOPLE WHO DO NOT CARE ABOUT ME MORE CLEARLY). Whew, was that a shit show. He again mocked me with her (and she allowed it, and would exchange these smirking looks when we were together. She’d have the “decency” to slightly tone it down in my presence, he apparently thought I was a full-blown idiot.

That’s when I knew I came back different. I didn’t lash out, I didn’t desperately try to seek for a response. I observed and stayed quiet. What could I say? If it were a competition, just by not responding to this shit, I automatically am the better person in the room. I didn’t entrap them to put me in that position, they did that all by themselves. Thank you for that.

Still, I tried to be a good friend. I told them both it was a bad idea to date. I couldn’t really be fully honest with them (she’s mostly into women -and herself; he’s got a wandering dick and anger issues), but I fucking tried. I don’t remember what I said specifically, but there was zero tea or some other type of shade in my statement, but I did tell them (separately): you guys are really different, I just don’t really see it at all. I’d advise against it, to be honest.

Now, obviously, with years comes experience, and that’s a fucking fool’s errand. You just don’t tell people not to get together. If anything, it pushes them closer. Fine. My beef with them about it was that she thought I was jealous (in her defense, there’s nothing she doesn’t think it’s because of her), and he thought I was (still) carrying a torch for him. Mf what?

Lol. After that shit crashed and burned (2 years later, pretty ugly), in casual conversation I admitted to thinking I had a crush on him way back, while under the influence of psychedelics, and he was like…yeah. Then it made sense. When they were in the get-together phase, which lasted…two weeks? Lol, they were dragging me out to their dates and in one of them, she asked if there had ever been something between us (he and I), and I started by saying Well…, and he looked so mad, and he was like No, not at all, what are you talking about? I was so shocked by his response, I said nothing.

I was gonna say: Well…no, not really, but since he knows how much I like X, I ask him to like my Facebook posts all the time so X can see it and maybe get jealous? I know I know, it’s lame and foolish, but he’s still cool for doing it.

The vanity, y’all. Where do men get their utter confidence and self-deprecation at the SAME damn time, I will never fucking now. It takes a special kind of fool to think he’s got something so in the bag and, at the same time, be so fucking insecure about other things. A special kind of stupid. You’re either confident or you’re not. When it truly comes from within, it’ll radiate regardless of situation (with certain, minor adjustments, of course). People emboldened by situations and not themselves are weak, and I don’t fuck with weak sauce.

And not only that, but what if I had had feelings for him? It is the opposite of a gentleman to shut me down like that. First of all, interrupt me much? Second of all, he could have said (if I had said something untruthful): I recall things differently, (if I had declared feelings for him) and while I’m flattered, I don’t see you in that way, but remain thankful for your friendship and time.

You know, like people do. Fucking animal.

I’d be salty but I’m not, because I know he’s disrespectful to everyone. Even her. When commoners think they’re so slick but they’re far down the totem pole of “figuring out” other human beings (barf), they’ll test you. A different time, all 3 went to a bar and while we’re shooting the shit and I’m bored -but being a good friend until they fucking find the confidence to go out alone-, he casually (ha) comments:

I wonder what it feels like to kiss 2 people at the same time. Have y’all ever kissed 2 people at the same time? I felt embarrassed (I was a baby! Now I’d roll my eyes and leave, lol. Who’s got time for stupid commentary?), and we discussed the logistics for a bit before moving on. If a man I liked for a relationship had asked me that, I’d stopped considering him altogether. In her defense, she was desperate to be in a relationship again, she was craving it hard. And he did pass all of her tests. Which was hilarious and infuriating to watch.

When I introduced them, I left them alone, but was nearby, so I could catch bits of their convo. She wanted to know if he thought like her (well, not really, if he’d agreed to anything she would say). He did. How does someone with a Social Studies major from a state, proud-to-be-mixed university, go and say that this horrific show that mocks Indigenous women is just a joke, and that yes, indeed, people should lighten up?

By having no personality or thoughts of his own, that’s how.

And plot twist! They both had Indigenous mothers, she just needed someone in her life that would never bring up that fact, nor be proud of it. She was (assume is) gonna milk her White-passing till the day she fucking dies, hunty, and don’t you forget it. So will he.

I wonder how those conversations are going overall in LatAm now. I doubt much has improved.

I wonder if he knew just how much he was being tested that day. She knew she had him when he looked at her all googly-eyed, but any woman will tell you that’s not enough, a guy’s gotta fit the bill, right? I wonder why she didn’t pull back when she realized she looks quite a bit like his mother did, lololol.

Well, I know why. She was so proud of his (actually small financial) inheritance. The one he never bothered to improve, increase, or do anything with. He was so proud to have her on his arm (at least outside). I was (only technically) closer to her than I was him, but it does suck when you realize your “friends” are basic, and it sucks even harder when they won’t admit to it. In her defense, I guess the reasoning’s got to be different otherwise you couldn’t look at yourself, right? We’re all basic in different ways, I don’t see the big deal. But it’s not like either one of them was big on truth, anyhow.

I didn’t learn my lesson then, I only learned it after my bad ex, but you never want to be in a close relationship with shitty people. They might look like your biggest allies because they’re shitting so hard on other people, but if the tables are turned, it’ll be you in front of that shit-slinging fan. Narcissists, if we wanna get technical. They must malign you because they need to hear that “good riddance!” when they drop someone, and their “reputation” is all in life there is. Truth and tranquility are not in their vocabulary.

And I feel for both, both have had really rough childhoods in different ways, and both are just trying to survive but, here’s a little secret about trauma survivors (at least in my eyes, cause you don’t really notice until you feel better). We can be very selfish, and not notice we’re not giving other people enough. Or making everything about ourselves. And the harm we went through, that’s not our fault, but the healing we gotta go through, that is our responsibility. No questions about it. Otherwise, you’re just another cog for a dysfunctional world to keep on churning more like you. And that’s a responsibility I would never want to bear. I think the biggest misconception is you can only have that kind of impact through children, and that’s not true. You make an impact on every person you come across with, its depth and quality fully dependent on circumstances and your intentions.

I used to feel so anxious about what kind of impact I’ll have on others. Not wanting to fuck, not wanting to do to others what was done to me ever, and not even for others sake, but for mine. Anything abuser-adjacent is something I want to be as far away from possible, both on the receiving or giving end. Nothing that will remind me of those feelings or memories is something I want in my life. So, I’d choose not to interact, not to be around people to make that probability zero. Safe.

Now I’m more confident in myself, and besides, if you don’t go into an interaction with a bad intention, or trying to berate or mock someone, you don’t second-guess yourself, you know? Well, if you care, if you don’t give a damn, that reckoning only comes sometimes, I guess. Now, if I were to fuck up with someone, I pray to the goddess I’d notice, and if I don’t, that that person will come to me, and that I will find it in me to take their truth and really try to empathize, and if I can’t, that eventually I will. And if I can’t, that I remain confident in my decisions. I remember so clearly this white woman that taught me some Comm. course, and she was so hurt that I had filed a complaint because she had put a super misogynistic rapper in the course environment advising to read the syllabus. When the info got to her, she scolded me for not writing to her directly (I wrote to the course email, as I didn’t want to make it about her). Then she wanted me to take it in jest, because “it can’t be expected this rapper even knows what a syllabus is” (but racism is dead, right? Bitter ha!). When I refused to “engage in conversation” with her about it and told her only in writing and that my complaint stands, she sent me two emails pressuring me again to have a videocall with her (covid times) so she could tell me how this experience had been for her. By my second response, I said if you insist, I shall loop a faculty representative so they can be on the call as well. She said this clearly wasn’t going anywhere, and declined. Ha! What was it you wanted to tell me, white woman, that no one else could hear? She again reiterated how I had hurt her personally and as an academic, and that she was considering this matter closed. I again told her I was sorry that her actions had caused her grief and that I did it because as a woman of color, domestic violence survivor, and LGBTQ ally (or at least try to be), to have that man in the course environment was an affront on too many fronts to bear.

That sad sack of white meat took the video down, but kept the title. Petty till the end, and only through administrative pressure. And she wouldn’t let up my ass till I afforded her the opportunity to tell me how much I had hurt her. When I said I want witnesses, she dug back into her hole.

To the old gods, and the new: I pray to thee so that I am never as dense and self-centered as that white excuse of a woman, and that if I ever am, that I eventually find the humbleness to go back to the person I hurt, and say my apologies.

This is why it’s very important to know what minorities you don’t belong to, and be extra vigilant about what you say or don’t say about them. But apparently, even about the ones you do belong to, but hWhite women everywhere would rather think they’re equals to the menses than to actually fight that status quo.

How’s that going for you? Are you as well-rested as your partner, as unbothered at work as your male colleagues are, and in the same social standing as your male peers are in your community? Do your kids give equal shit to you and their dad, or more to you? You get ignored, and can only get attention through tears, and only if it serves the (White) male agenda?

Oh, that’s terrible, white woman! Here are some thoughts and prayers 🙂

I was really shocked because she was the head of a course I loved, and aced. I thought she’d be good at communicating. She simply couldn’t take that a student had made a complaint about her, a foreign student, at that, and that I had called her upload racist and utterly tone-deaf.

Such a disappointment.

Anyways, back to that couple (and that man). The shit she slang was mostly harmless, but I love that she thought she was bringing piping hot tea! Lol. It is gross when people chew with their mouths open, though, I can’t believe that’s still a point of contention for some people. For me, it’s the bless you after a sneeze. We all engage in little social conventions, to balk at saying bless you (Im looking at you, good ex) like that makes you some sort of daring rebel is utterly foolish.

He, however…he went no holds barred. I warned her about one thing, though, because if she really was fucking up into white collar (pseudo?) crime, she’d better get her shit together. Who studies so hard (with no financial backup) and then risks a bad reputation? That, I had no problem relaying back. The rest, I chew down. I felt bad for her (and when I came here, after a couple of years, we had a group chat where only afterwards did I learn she and another “friend” had traveled together in LatAm (like that fucking affects me in any way), and then eventually they fully iced me. I didn’t bother talking to them individually, I just changed numbers. They asked my mom for my number a year later or something, and then did it again! This time, this “friend” that got her shit slung through every fan, said nothing. Well, maybe an emoji and that’s it.). So, for me to feel bad about someone like that…It just takes a lot.

And no, it’s nothing salacious, it’s nothing sexual. A lot of narcissists have grown up in really fucked up households, so a huge trigger is the possibility of embarrassment. They’ll die before they suffer a single (even if only self-perceived) further moment of embarrassment. And so a lot of people feel that if they don’t talk about themselves, or heavily restrict the flow of information, then people will automatically assume they’re perfect and glorious and nothing is wrong with them. For me, I used to think it meant they didn’t want to be friends, because friendship to me is based on emotional sharing. I can still kick it with people that don’t, but I couldn’t get insanely close to someone so guarded about their own lives, you know? But I wouldn’t mind it. It’s the difference between a social circle and an intimate one, for me, at least.

I still hold that (last) belief, but I no longer think that people not sharing is because they don’t want to be friends. There can be very sad, terrible reasons why someone doesn’t want people “in their business”, and so we should always respect and treat that as such. Case closed. I think the sad part comes when you see someone trying so hard to build this façade that you know isn’t true, and sadder still when someone gives you an extra 25° rotation angle. I knew there was a house behind that façade, I didn’t know it was in such fucking shambles behind it.

So, to recap: I feel compassion and understanding for people who wish no one ever finds out what their hard(est) moments have been/are like. I feel pity for people who work so hard in pretending they’re better than everybody else, as that seems to be the true neon advertisement for the “I’m unhealed and had it pretty rough (back then)”. I feel contempt for the pathetic souls that must berate others if it even gives them an inch of alleged better social standing in the world, in their endless, maniacal quest for the adoration that will never really reach their souls, because if it had, they would’ve stopped searching.

She’s all three. AND I STILL FEEL BAD FOR HER Y’ALL!

I can’t explain why or how, but even though my parents weren’t the embarrassing type, they still (obviously) did a lot of damage to my psyche, and even then, I’m still mad at my mom’s brother for embarrassing my dad. My dad was a piece of shit, a good for nothing man. Best thing he ever did in his life was to get my mom pregnant and then recuse himself (first emotionally, then physically) from my life.

But that’s my blood. I literally come from him. You don’t talk to him that way, especially in front of me. You’re doing that for your own fun, not to help anyone else. My grandma didn’t intervene, and I’m not mad at her because that’s her baby (my mom). But I was there. I saw my dad feel embarrassed and cornered. That was just berating him, it wasn’t even an honest attempt at conversation (besides, he came back because he had cancer, and my mom loved me and offered to sponsor him, so quit your whining). It was humiliating. For him. And for me. For many other reasons (harassing piece of SHIT), but also that one, I hope he dies slowly and painfully. I feel zero compassion for that guy. When your insides are just this sorry, petty little stomp, it is your responsibility to groom yourself, and make yourself a proud, beautiful tree. If you’re a petty, angry little stomp, it fucking shows. You have no generosity to give. Ugly on the inside. No joy in the soul.

So! This friend of no one, he gave me yet another glimpse at how embarrassing one of her parents is. The type of thing that would make her cry herself to sleep and question all her life choices (but then not really solve anything, just harden her decisions and keep trotting life as it is). I’m all about definitive answers, and if I had had that type of upbringing, I would’ve chased therapy PLUS any other type of solution that makes it so I never feel like I did in my childhood again. The kind of shit people swallow and choose to live with, it’s fucking beyond me -when the possibility to study different paths of action are available, of course-.

So yeah, I can’t fucking tell you. It’s not horribly bad, it’s like quite symbolically bad, but still pretty bad. Her dad is fucking barren. A shell of a human being (no drugs either). Again, spiritually speaking. Which is pretty fucking ironic, considering he’s into religion, lol. I can’t believe I still remember, and it’s been years now. She’s never truly had a home, you know? I relate to that, and feel compassion for that. Only self-love (through fucking TRAUMA therapy) could ever give her the peace of mind to move out and make a home for herself. She needs it. We all do.

So yeah, in yet another boring ass multi-faceted truth of life, you can feel compassion for people that have been utterly shitty to you (even if they had good moments with you). So remember, people: A friend is always good, no such thing as a bad FRIEND!

So keep around you those who continue to give you the gift of truth, and caring.

Best,

L.

P.S.: Oh right, I forgot to tell you about him. FUCK MY LIFE! I’ll write now because I doubt I’ll ever surmise this level of interest again. He’s the kind of person that at any moment, day or night, can call someone and be warmly greeted. He’d surprise 95% of those people with that call, but still, they’d be happy/curious to hear from him. He can get a certain openness from anyone, and then heavily buff that by overextending himself so people feel indebted to him. So that point of “pride” (having many “friends”) never reaches or fills his heart either, because he’s forever second-guessing why people liked him to begin with. He’s right of course, but for different reasons. Many people are only around him because of what he can offer them, but that’s purely because that’s the way the world works. Friends are far and few in between, true altruistic friendships are NOT a dime a dozen, so he’s not necessarily facing greater odds than anyone else. But he’s also not likely to have one of those because…he’s all about shallow depths. The pain -and anger- are forever simmering only slightly below the surface, and he’ll angrily rebuff any attempt to change that. Because, DUH, trauma survivors in the very initial stages of healing never think a way out is available to them, and would jump through hoops to maintain this untenable “life” they lead. He went through serious abuse, so I heavily sympathize with that, and at the same time, not at all. This is a trauma survivor that had zero qualms about mocking me if it even made it only seem like it would gain him any favors with two women I once knew. So he can go through his lows, and cry himself to sleep about how utterly alone he is/feels. We can all feel that way sometimes, but I can find him nothing short of pathetic if his struggle means he’ll try to drown you if it means another gasp of air for him.

Just stand, mf. Believe in yourself for once. Be brave.

I do, however, must thank him, for showing me who those two really were -and the consequences to their lives by being close to someone like him-. Those lessons, I shall never forget. I hope he gets better.

I was thinking about the usefulness of someone like that (introducing him to someone you like to see if the person you like has integrity and reports back that they think your “friend” is shitty, cause it takes him probably less than a second to be so). But what if the person you like judges you alongside someone like him and decides you’re not worth the trouble? See, that’s why you never should try to use people 😛

In an almost Machiavellian turn of events (but not really),

L.

However long your search may be, let it be happy and bountiful 🙂