**The next 21 days I’ll be posting 500 words a day as part of a creative writing challenge. You can join the fb group here. **
I am in a mood right now where I hate most things. Naturally this means that Ryan is walking on eggshells. I would like to be more evolved.
I live in constant fear that I’m going to walk into a public bathroom stall and it will be dirty. Having recently done a bunch of past timelines stuff, I’m slightly curious how this fear took root in some other lifetime, but not enough to really go there.
A friend was telling me recently about this acting coach who has a cult-like methodology and the following to match. She told me about the way that the woman would call out people who didn’t agree with her in front of the whole class. “You’re just resisting,” she’d say, and then the group would ostracize the person who disagreed. She told me and my blood boiled because I realized I knew that story, too.
One time I was part of a yoga cult. I say “one time” but actually it lasted for several years. My secular friends couldn’t even deal with being around me at the time. We’d be standing in conversation at a bar and I would literally break into tree pose, or sometimes, and I’m only admitting this because they’re still around to remind me—dancers pose. My long-term boyfriend said that we couldn’t relate anymore, so we broke up. All the while I was convinced that I was right and everyone else was just in denial. It wasn’t all bad though—I met two of my best friends through it, and also I was hella fit.
But that got me thinking that Enneagram Eights are the worst. My friend Jessica is also an eight, but I think she is lying because she’s a really lovely person. I’m pretty sure all cult leaders are eights. It’s part of their charm.
I’m falling asleep typing this so I’ll have to finish, I mean write something totally different, next time.