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Just Thinking, Rant Hill, What IS That!

Put Aside Chick


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Dear Side Chick, this will certainly sound harsh and I expect you may be offended, I hope you’ll read with your head and not your heart.

Your argument that you’d rather be a side chick to a loyal man than a main chick to a cheater, isn’t one. It’s ill conceived and disconnected from facts and reality. It’s like you merged a fairytale to the matrix and tried to invent a new world where personal responsibility is outlawed.

This concept of being a “side” chick is reprehensible in any sense of the phrase. By definition you’ve robbed yourself out the gate. You’re “out there” on the side, sick by yourself, on the side celebrating HIS birthday by yourself, on the side watching movies by yourself, on the side doing all the things he’s doing FIRST with his front and center chick.

You’re on the side like dirty laundry, uncut lawns, clogged gutters, medical bills and all the other ish he deals with when he feels like it. He’ll take his time because he knows he can give you a ridiculous deflection that sounds close to the jumble of words you’ve strewn together to defend your cowardice actions and your vapid ass will accept them because all you heard was “He’s “loyal to me.”

It is noble to want to believe there are different circumstances that “work” for people but it is reality to know that people just lie to themselves to justify their dirt.

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Women know better than to share a man behind another womans back period.

Women know better than to cause that kind of pain in another womans life and statistics would most likely show that sisters aren’t sleeping with men who have a woman they find all warm and fuzzy.

Women usually hate, found a reason or find a reason to “hate that so and so.

No excuse. No explanation. Side Chick = Destroyer of your community.

Because you’re weak. Too weak to leave or make him stand up for you. That means you’re harboring anger.

You can’t raise a family or a finger with that kind of weakness.

Ready. Set. Go!

Sisters (women) are always running at “go”  We think we got it all together and start sprinting off in a direction full blast.

Ready. Set. Go.

What we must do is think past go.

Where am I running? How will I stop? Who is running with me? Are we on the same team? Will we get there at the same time? Is my mission the same as theirs? How long is this run? What is the terrain? Am I prepared? What do I need to get there? What will I do when this run is done?

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Think past go.

Let me try to clarify: you think there is more than 1 type of side chick. I believe there is but 1. You make a case for the scorned, hurt woman who settles for being on the side because its emotionally low maintenance.

Why is she so emotionally distraught that she can’t function in a normal relationship? Why is she “so tired of being hurt?”

She should have developed a 7th sense, the one that tells her not to keep walking into the same brick wall, to be prudent, to be cautious, to review, to research, not to rush to love and to know what love is, or what a relationship is.

Think past go.

For her to be “tired of games” yet play one on another woman, to be tired of “investing her time” but rob another woman of hers then quantify by saying he’s “putting it all on the table” without concern that its not just his table, someone else is sitting there, setting it, clearing it, cleaning it. This works for her? Because she knows there is another woman? And he’s honest?

His every action with her, in fact, is dishonest. He is hiding his lies from his real life.

A side chick is as fake as fantasy.

Unreal.

Some say “she rationalizes her irrational thinking.” 

Fantasyland, Fairytales and Real Housewives have women phucked up in the head with this nonsense they believe is “real.”

If you’re proud to be a side chick you are nothing more than a succubus feeding on the immoral veins of society.

That is nothing to be proud of. 

Get your life together and stop tailgating on another woman’s game.

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You’re an embarrassment.

About The "SoKey" Experience

Each morning I wake I pour myself into a goblet, slowly inhaling the scent of my own faults, swirling them around the glass, allowing them to breath, then I sip, allowing my own inconsistencies to soak my tongue before swallowing. If I am tipsy from my own frailties - I'm less likely to become drunk on yours. -SoKey (introspection)

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