In a meditation I started making art. I was thinking of the seventeenth soul – there are only fourteen right now. I asked her “show me a picture of me with wings” and she replied “wait.” I dragged a cd across some paint.
To make it clear that I didn’t do it – that it’s not my art – I will show you my attempt at copying it for a page in my graphic novel. It is a first draft of an illustration – I assure you I’m embarrassed to post it because it does not compare to this beings art.
Later I drew on my shelves using eyeliner – I couldn’t find anything else that wouldn’t come off the glossy paint I used to collage it. I smudged the eyeliner and I saw myself in a roscharch-inkblot like smudge with huge cat ears and I asked “How long will it take for me to look like that?” and she said “five years”
and when I woke up, atop the cd was a perfectly formed angel ♥️
On the back of the cd was the number five and a backwards division symbol
My spiritual teacher once told me that it’s important that when you love someone, you make them aware that you don’t need them. I have only been taught to want the things I need – I’ve never gotten anything I actually wanted at the time of wanting it. Only when I let it go, if even then, if I really needed it. She told me “oh, he will come back and he will apologise” – the men that knew about this prophecy, and used it as an excuse to do something terrible to me so that they could ‘come back and apologise’ is UNREAL. I mean the amount of people that think unconditional love is hurting a person just to see if they’d forgive you – tells me that this Planet was not ready to host a being like myself.
Do not come back and apologise. Apologise to everyone that you hurt, in your life, that led up to your opportunity to meet me.
If I need nothing but a home to live in and things to keep me fed, occupied and entertained – don’t think that I’ll love you when I don’t need you. I won’t. That is the catch 22 of a Buddha-esque enlightenment – spending life constantly releasing yourself from material attachment, constantly forgiving people and loving them ‘unconditionally’. Learn to want only what you need, learn to need nothing (Look, I like my luxuries – I value my stuff – I value a roof over my head – but if this World finally wanted to end itself and put me out on the streets I’d be fine.)
I looked through a diary today and I realised that this country fucked my teenage self over. I was being abused. And later when I tried to tell the mental health wards (which also abused me) that they’d made a mistake and that they were protecting my abusers – they actually outrightly ignored me. They repeated archaic sentiments I’d heard my mother repeat based on psychiatric findings more than fifteen years ago, from that moment in time. As if word for word – as if they’d seen her say it in a memory of mine. Which I know people are still trying to pretend they can’t do.
I believe that some people’s love language is rooted in dependency and sometimes that is because people’s egos need that, and sometimes it is because they were – only – ever given what they really needed.
We’re all vibrant and different. (Not really, I’m being sardonic and I am bitter because I know that if I’ve loved you and you come back I will probably throw up into my mouth or slam my door in your face. Do I believe in apologies and forgiveness, yes – but the intention that accompanies both of those is so important.)
Have I posted this already?
This is unforgivable. Certainly not untrue – but also unforgivable. I live on a Planet occupied by beings that deserve to die painful deaths. I mean I’ll come back to this with photos from a diary I managed to open recently, full of stuff I wrote at thirteen to fourteen years old. About being abused by my “sister” and my “mother”. Stuff I had so wonderfully blocked out of my memory, at my own expense later.
The blonde you keep sticking up for is generally a fragment of my abusive mother and sister. thumbs up emoji.
Everything I ever wrote was some kind of suicidenote. ha.
My favourite is “my sister called me a demon” – I was fourteen and she was twenty one. thumbs up emoji.
this is cute “I didnt cut myself cos my mother would have won”
oh no this is cuter “i’ll bleed so fast I’ll die before you realise”
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA THIS IS HILARIOUS
Sticking up for “the blonde” – will NOT make you POPULAR. STOP TRYING TO BE POPULAR. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT EVEN MEANS.
And I want to write one last thing – this wasn’t a teenage rebellion. This was my life from day one. Those childhood photos where I look happy? Am I eating by myself? Cuddling an animal? Or am I getting a hug or something? ew
If you think people and stories really change
fucking LOL (she did this behind my back)
The only thing that changes people is doing something different. Telling the truth, apologising, actually being punished for doing things you did as a child but never got caught doing.
Sometimes I despise but mostly I accept that karma is real and that pretty much everyone I’ve ever known deserves to die a painful death. But my spiritual teacher Esther Hicks would say that life is so much more painful.