#cursesareforkids

I’m old. And experienced. I used to think I was deep, but now I don’t care. I used to care a lot. I cared about all the things. Like protest slogans. 

Now it just seems like a fabulous waste of time. People care about things they can’t do anything about to make themselves feel better. 

People also throw curses at people who disagree with them to make themselves feel better. 

I’ve found most people are pretty weak. They take no responsibility for themselves and need to spend their entire lives in padded safe rooms. I’ve never lived my life this way. 

I don’t expect others to bend over backward for my sensibilities. If I even had any. I think I used to have them. When I gave a shit. Women usually have a lot of sensibilities. We’re raised on them. We’re supposed to guard them and grow them so that we can use them like weapons. It makes us miserable, boring people. 

I have few sensibilities left. And those I hope go too. I do have what I consider “decency” but that involves trying not to judge people. Because judging is caring, and I’m done caring. 

I think I suffered a curse yesterday I have a cold and it got much, much worse. Then a power surge restarted my computer. Someone desperately trying to get my attention. 

I might do magic, but cursing isn’t something I do. I have no use for that. I trained in positive intentions. Healing the world and the lost, wounded soul of humanity. That was always my mission. Truth, healing, evolution. Not the evil eye, like a common criminal or twelve-year-old girl. Really, curses are so middle school. I don’t even fight back. 

Karma takes care of evil intentions on its own. I might say a lot of bullshit, but my intentions are above reproach. I have a high level of purity and it insulates me from, well, everything.