Worship

In a few hours it'll be yet another summer night, and I'll be properly awake for it. Right now I'm just lounging trying to get something done and knowing I'm not going to get anything done at all. But that's ok because it's summer and I forgive myself because of the heat. Although it's fully air conditioned here, but still, if it isn't the heat inside then it's the one outside. I realise that someone who should be close, perhaps is not that close. Because while I share his interests, he thinks writing isn't exactly something to while the time with. I hate that. For one, I'm a Leo and I want to be adored and worshipped. For a second, I am quite akin to Malta's ancient Goddess of Fertility so again I want to be adored and worshipped, and this time also revered. It does not matter if I haven't yet put my fertility to the test, I am still very quite like her, and I don't think it says anywhere in Maltese history books whether the Goddess had a dozen kids either. A third, I expect to be honoured and adored and worshipped and revered because that is what's there behind my shy nature. And yet I'm not getting any, worshipping that is. So that should make me feel angry, bad? It should. But it doesn't. Because it suddenly opened the road so clearly to all of my thoughts and behavioural patterns whether they be dysfunctional or not. It is not for you to judge, it's for me the Goddess. Because if a man has a Goddess by his side and gets so worked up in his whatevers that he decides her blog is no big deal... well then he deserves everything he gets. Because my blog is what's me and mine. Sometimes the most intelligent of people make the stupidest mistakes. While the brainy ones... make no mistake about them.