“Schindler’s List”

I’m going to repost this. It’s from a while ago. But tonight it feels right. If you’re stalking me from Tiky Tok or Instapost…*wave* “Hi” You’re not necessarily welcome here. Or what? Am I your enemy? Am I? Is that why you read my bloggy-woggy? *fake grin* …Do you want me as a real enemy? Are you…bored?


I post publicly because I can. I write because I want to. Why do you do it? Are you online to soothe your ego? …And I’m not necessarily judging you if you are… But if you are, don’t read my blog. And don’t necessarily read my words ever again.

…For a specific audience: If you truly have Jesus in your heart and you’re not just a gussied-up evil witch…you don’t need to read my blog unless it’s to be kind to me. But not “kind.” Actually kind. …And if you can’t physically bring yourself to be truly kind and not just a narcissistic performer who apparently feels threatened then go away.

“I can’t rewatch that film right now.” says Lacey.

“I know.” Michael smiles. “Don’t.”

…But I think I’ll post an intentionally edgy and offensive recommendation for it to Tik Tok.

“He’s coldly and opaquely repeated that he hasn’t found a wife yet.” says Lacey.

“He won’t. Until he’s ready.” says Michael laughing.

“What’s ready?” asks Lacey.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s just focusing more on himself right now.” says Michael.

Lem bursts out laughing.

“What is he looking for in a wife?” asks Lacey.

“Perfection. According to him.” says Michael.

“Well, and that’s okay in a way.” says Lacey.

“I think it’s what a man is supposed to do. But…there’s a right way and a wrong way to do it. …And I worry he’s too focused on his own needs to understand anyone, much less a woman, the way he needs to to get that close in that romantic of a way.” says Michael.

“What do you mean? Seriously!” says Lem. “He seems like a worn out, poor soul.”

“He has to look at her and find her overwhelming and be well and strong enough to be enticed by it, not repulsed. He’s a hot young man and he’ll only be happy married to an equally attractive young woman. His age. His type. …She’ll need to be just as good as he is in every way or he’ll need to find her weakness genuinely good and not hurtful and evil. And that means he needs to be improving on his current self. Not to obliterate himself. The very opposite. To be able to lead her to himself, possibly for eternity should God will it.” says Michael.

“You don’t find him attractive?” Lem asks Michael as he laughs.

“No. But I collected art, Lem. I have a good eye for beauty in all forms. Doesn’t mean I find him remotely appealing to me.”

“I just thought you should clarify that. Considering.” says Lem.

“I wish that wasn’t true.” says Michael.

“I think people want to rip you apart Lacey. And they’d try to destroy anything you had. For the most part. Anything.” Lem smiles, sadly. “And that’s why you are so abrasive. Not because you’re a lunatic or a narcissist.” He sighs heavy.

(And I’ll add tonight): “What irritates me is when people start making up nonexistent superiority or fake impressive heritage to try to compete. When they think their beauty can objectively compete with mine and so they go out of their way to be sexually aggressive or vain to one-up me. …Stop embarrassing yourself. Unless you really are that superior you just look like a pathetic narcissist to me and I feel sorry for you and it makes me sick to see you dysfunctionally vomit all over yourself like that. Stop being gross. Stop! …If you are superior or even an equal, and no one who’s ever done that to me actually is, I don’t even care. …I don’t care. Get a clue, sweetie.”

“I was far hotter than that little toddler.” says Joe Jr.. “And I was as smart as you, Lem.”

“Were you?” asks Lem smiling teasingly.

“I was! You know I was.” he says.

Michael smiles. “Wear your tweed hat today.”