dealbreaker for me because unconsciously, women tend bond through heartbreak…and that’s unhealthy because it fortifies and reinforces the “all men are dogs” theory/ and before they both look up and realize it, this form of bonding is the only thing that held their so called friendship together anyway.
From experience, I’ve been through years of that with a couple of friends and found that outside of that and the fact that we’d grown up together since kids or known each other for years, we had nothing else in common really. All it took was for one of us to evolve and shift focus on something greater or for one to fall in love-then other of us is as gone as the bond of (so called) friendship that once was.
Speaking of focus.
The subscription (that you often see floating around social media like I do), is this inflated sense of importance that once you decided on a goal in life, your friends all get thrown in the trash and the new ones are only ones who can get you to where you want to be.
If anybody takes interpersonal inventory serious and rolls out my personal friend list and check it twice, it’s me. And while I agree the trash does need taken out occasionally, some of its crumbled paper contents merely need to be unfolded and used and accepted as is.
Other people who, unfortunately, don’t evolve and grow like us are not responsible for our inability to have a firm grasp on ourselves such that this inflated sense of self-importance we have now is right in telling us that that who they are and haven’t grown to be as it fits our new world, is going to somehow taint us or stunt our growth.
That’s bullshit. And if a friend has always been good to me and never backstabbed me, I don’t care what he/she does or how unevolved they aren’t as compared to my path and yellow brick road.
Another persons capacity to evolve or not has no bearing on my ability to evolve or keep evolving especially if all along they have been good friend to me.
I have a friend who, although is ambitious, she’s is grimy as fck. The kind of unthinkably tacky that can often leave you chin to chest, index and middle finger pinching your nose, imposing, uncouth and less than gracious kind of tacky-rough around the edges is an understatement.
And by contrast, I also have a friend who, unapologetically, is lazy as fck. She’s not the least bit interested in the hustle and bustle of life as many are. She’s talented. A drummer, a songwriter (can write a rap album in a week). I have her CD’s (that she mixes and cuts for fun with her other musician/stoner friends to prove it). But all she really wants to do in this life smoke her weed, knock back her few bottles of “Heiny,” step out into the California sun, water her plants and sit on the balcony in the wind and watch’em grow. “Fck all this bullshit.” Peace, plants, the wind, the sun, (and grass) is life and living, for her.
But
Spitfire .
Media Maestro .
Writing Rhinoceros .
