Phoenix Fights

Fighting the FEAR, depression and BDP on a daily basis AND making my own bread. Bring it on 2016….



This song reminds me of someone whom I was once very close to, whom I fell out with spectacularly not so long ago. I chose it partly because we both love the Chi-Lites, and partly because we are actually still neighbours.

Not too close you understand. But close enough that it’s altogether feasible that we’ll bump into one another one day whilst out shopping or something.

When everything first kicked off I was beyond furious at her endless disrespect, mind fucking and tit for tat behaviour. I was quite frankly, braced and ready for battle and wrote this little ode about her:

Oh dear.

Then later on as my temper cooled and I began to grow and mellow (well, a bit) I started to see both sides of the story and that maybe I played a part in some of our interactions, so I made a heartfelt overture to her, suggesting that we draw a line under the past and start afresh. I had changed a lot over the time we had been estranged and was willing to risk rejection or reunion as long as the thing shifted one way or another, as I was sick of hanging in limbo, consciously being ignored, and trying to ignore her, her vocal silence which contrasted greatly with her passive aggressive status’ on FB.

But instead of appreciating that I swallowed my pride and approached her, she was predictably terse and kept me on tenterhooks, so I wrote this second poem, only too aware of the likely outcome:

And I was right. Not only was my olive branch rejected, it was pretty much hurled back in my face with great force.

Oh dear.

To paraphrase this song, It was not that she couldn’t, she just didn’t want to…

But it wasn’t that big a surprise and I couldn’t have tolerated her behaving in exactly the same way moving forward, so it gave me permission to cut all ties with honour and integrity, block all contact and put the friendship to sleep for good.

Oddly enough her family are still sort of in touch and whilst I’m not entirely comfortable with this, they are nice people and I haven’t the heart to block them too, as they haven’t done anything wrong.

So, we’re unlikely to be walking in sunshine together from what I can tell.

But we are still neighbours…

…whether we wanna be….or NOT! 😉



  1. Thought I uploaded this yesterday, sorry folks! x

  2. Another Neri per Caso for yer ! – it does indeed remind me of a friend …

  3. Rejecting olive branches doesn’t feature in my book of civilised behaviour.

    My years at drama school and then stage managing were the most exuberant of my life, and the only time when I belonged to a tight-knit group of friends. Then I got married and it was all over.

    • I’m not great at being rejected, but it was done with such venom and designed to hurt. That said I’m sure i’ve done it to others in the past when I was more feral so a bit of instant karma maybe 😉 I also know where it comes from with her, she’s a bit damaged (like that rest of us, hey?) and I hope she’s alright, even if we’re not buddies anymore.

    Intelligent and talented, he was known as one with the rare trait of only speaking when actually having something to say. In our professional/social circles, he was viewed as judicious and stoic—a clever, steadfast, wise, honest fellow.
    In time, cracks began to appear.  Always of logical, dispassionate counsel, he had no stomach for reciprocity—with no interest in reasoned rejoinder to his difficulties, he wanted only sympathetic agreement, though refusing to offer same.  And, while appreciative of my willingness to stick out my neck in his defense and to speak up on his behalf, he seemingly lacked instinct to return service, even absent any risk of adverse consequence for him. Less than admirable incidents occurred as unconnected disappointments for me, until I was the subject of a low-rent, fifth-rate Stalinist-style purging from a somewhat prominent professional organization to which we both belonged.  Not only did he proffer no support, he ended up one of the two lead prosecutors, enumerating a litany of pretty damn penny-ante resentments running back seven years.
    After this, even my near-imbecilic sense of loyalty to intimates could not blur the truth.  His noble quality of discretion was at least 60% self-advancing self-protectiveness; his rational, asympathetic responsiveness was mostly just a lack of empathy; and, while not an habitual back-stabber, he had absolutely mastered the sin of omission, never to be of assistance if it provided him no benefit.  So, with the most anemic of whimpers, ended an 11 year friendship.
    “AT THE HOP” is a reminder of him because, a great listener of 50’s and 60’s music (who may actually have had no taste for anything recorded post-1974), he had a sweet story, told most charmingly, about seeing Danny and the Juniors perform the song at a county fair.

    Go to hell, you hypocritical fraud.

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