Author: Julia Walker

Handful of ingredients said to improve partnerships:

Blood, basil, coffee and honey.

I’d imagine a bit of cinnamon, rose water, maybe some jasmine would only help the odds sway towards your most wanted reaction.


While I won’t and don’t force love, the concept is intriguing: manipulating a partner into being one surely lowers expectations for at least one party involved and having half on the bills sounds sweeter than I want to admit.

I just can’t because my living exes are piles of trash, barely functioning in their misery and constantly leeching what they can out of others.

They smelled the empath in me and I felt the challenge of their presence to my progress during one of the fits of emotional instability that have generally led to me partnering up – ultimately breakups aren’t a common occurrence for me, death ending my partnerships more than a specific conversation.

Never have I left a relationship happily.
My happy relations ended twice, both with a single lie that led to the death of my partner.
Sweet hearted addicts, it was sudden each time as they were at better points than expected. Almost like a hospice nurse due to my taste in suicidal pessimists, the smiles known for lighting up rooms cry in my arms at night until they cannot make it any longer.

I cannot default to them since death is a barrier on my list to avoid right now.

But, otherwise, I would.

How do you be in love when you never been loved honest?

What is it to not be lied to in love?
I’m really asking – what is it?

The concept of having a partner choose to live for and with me is so outlandish that for the last  years, it has been taken as a fact of mind that this will continue to be a solo lifestyle.

In part, because a problem that I have is calling on stuff without knowing what was done. Making lists of exacts and reading them aloud at crossroads led to getting them in full, just not in a manner that can be controlled by the likes of me.
I asked for lovers, money, freedom and more. Got them all, paid handsomely for some versions of requests to the air and now recognize that asking isn’t a strong suit so as far as requesting partners, I am on official long lasting hiatus.

But, as it goes, the ancestors run this shit, not me, and my next partner’s either going to be my success story or another body (that part is not on me) but I know this one wants a fancy body bag.

Music became a passion left behind as I partnered with who would become the father of my children because he made me feel ashamed for accessing pleasure through any channels outside of him. Since founding my nonprofit and becoming a 501c3 mid 2016 I have found myself staring at screens far more often, so I started opening a tab for youtube in the background once I realized how nonexistent my work soundtrack had become. Going back to old favorites different ways, namely chopped and screwed versions of three six mafia led to me finding a group called $uicideboy$ (hold on a second – I made the same face the first time I read it). I heard a sample of a song I made $$ to as a bad ass kid and was intrigued, so listened on. As the first few songs played, I was fascinated that some young white dudes had managed to make a 666 tribute group and started to throw around think piece ideas on appropriation in hip hop as I threw my ass in circles all over my bedroom/home office because the tracks are that good.grey59

Never was hating the thought, the music together is exactly what I was looking for when I traded dedicating my life to shows for being abused and in love.

Erring on the side of them being full of shit, I decided to mark them problematic favs and kept listening as I worked. Maybe a week into finding them, an hour plus long interview came up. I played it through and came out clearly moving them from problematic fav to fighting words worthy and ended up getting my first tattoo in almost five years of an album of theirs across my chest. The latest bout of me being consistent with lighting the candles and requesting vision in dreams started early in the summer right before I ended up getting the opportunity to meet who would eventually help me gain nonprofit status and has led to the same blurred figures popping up and me waking up with the feeling that always comes before I meet someone.

On a bout of pure chastity, not indulging even flirting for years, I know the limitations of my celibacy and also know that my record proves me having trouble separating lust and love when directed at me so the repression continues until I separate the emotions lust and love, which undone at 30 likely isn’t happening.
This year started with me trying to open up to dating and running face first into a coward with pure garbage as friends and family so I immediately went back to where I was before: alone and only worried about my damn self.
But that nagging feeling makes me want to approach the person that I know I’m meant to be around next. This time, a few extra layers – $B mentioned above are connected to my next partner.
Unsure if it’s one of them, someone I meet at their show or what, now I have to figure out how to approach them in the least stalker seeming way. So, adding them into my past due article on Conjure is a welcome connect, right? I’ll @ them on the twitter too when this comes out because why the fuck not. At this point, subtlety takes too much time up. Direct words and actions are my communication style so if these dudes block me on the internet over me being creepy enough to write them into my column about some of the same shit they talk about then, oh well.

Wouldn’t be the first time I was too horror for someone.

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