Posts from the Uncategorized Category

If you use Mort Goldman’s voice to read my blog it comes across very differently, and I think some people need to do that for my next post

I enjoy racist stereotypes. But I am allowed to do that. Remember that I am half Arab and half Mexican/Italian and that I have a brother called OMAR MANUEL – and while I personally love the name (We call him Omi) – and that when I was growing up I was called things like “paki” and asked to hide the fact that I am partly Arab. If I am genuinely friends with you – you are allowed to make arab jokes. You’re allowed to make all kinds of jokes if you’re friends with me – even jokes about disability.

You will struggle to find a get-out-of-jail card that I do not have.

“DO NOT COMPARE YOURSELF TO ME” – Naomi Campbell

But I learned how to “model” watching Tyra so I have to keep my loyalties equal. Like Hermes.

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Today I donned Kari’s Naked Dress intending only to visit the cornershoppe for my cigarettes. I don’t enjoy tobacco at the moment because they’ve changed the recipe.

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I'm going to provide an explanation - the stuff in THIS FONT - is
the "PHOTO CAPTION". If you attend art galleries or peruse through
art and/or even science books, you'll notice that images & illustrations
are often accompanied by little informative comments and details
explaining the image to give it some context.

Thinking of a photograph I tumblr'd once - a London Corner Shoppe
which was poignant to me as a person who mostly grew up in London
(before that I lived in Dubai) and who had seen cornershoppes in 
every part of London, and who through reading that caption realised
that they all look the same. And I thought it was quite a pretty
thing to read.

I asked the gentleman at the till to take a photograph of me and 
he got me in one shot. If you have ever heard Janice Dickinson
explain her modelling work she'd say "We get the final shot in the 
first ten" - which meant that the photographer would capture the
perfect image of her within the first ten shutter clicks. She is
model royalty. I used to want to be a photographer very much so
I watched shows like America's Next Top Model. In photographing I
learned that I am quite good at styling photoshoots and that somehow
lead towards me studying at the most highly esteemed fashion school
in the World. 

I remind myself of that photo of Trump and the
Arab Princes holding hands around a sacred orb on Leafy's 
twitter. 

How catholic-tacky-holy do I look paying for stuff? Cos honestly
that is my vibe.

 

“Kari’s naked dress” is a reference to Sex and the City – I think it is amongst the most famous of her episodes. Big takes her to a restaurant where guys go to not be seen and he pretends it’s his favourite place. It is not his favourite place Carrie. It’s okay, I have exclusively been the friend that “friends” – and cheating boyfriends – AND FAMILY – took out to places where they wouldn’t be seen. I preferred it that way and I still do now – and thats what I’d of told you to say if I were his mother. (Which is why no one meets Big’s mother I imagine)

Dear Kim Cattrall, I heard along the grapevine that is Wendy Williams – that you had a fall out with your co-stars. I know how it feels to fall out with people – especially younger friends – that you look out and that actually quite took your influence in their life for granted and I know how it feels to feel betrayed (women betray one another all the time and usually we don’t care or turn a blind eye but when we actually feel it – it’s terrible) through your most difficult and hardest times, but there are lots of women – amongst them myself – and men, actually – straight and gay – who dream of a SATC come back. I don’t have the stomach for watching sex scenes unless it’s you girls… and actually I think it’s a very important time for women to stop regressing to the 50’s. I am not asking you to be FRIENDS with them – I am begging that you ask your management to ensure that you are the highest paid cast member – and publicised for being so – and interviewed about it “well ofcourse, Samantha is the star of the show. They’re nothing without her.” ALL THE BETRAYED SAMANTHA’S NEED YOU TO DO IT – and to dedicate all that fury towards the angriest-Samantha that the World has ever seen, we actually haven’t seen her truly angry – apart from when Bailey okayed you for flypostering your cheating monster boyf – I swear on my life I think I heard an agreeable gunshot outside) (I also think that if they can manage to include within the script that there has been a fallout amongst the cast it would help a lot of women learn to apologise to other women – who deserve apologies – and how to fix friendships.) (YOU DON’T HAVE TO MEAN IT – PLEASE DON’T MEAN IT AT ALL – BUT IT WOULD HELP A LOT OF WOMEN. TRUST ME.) (I mean my “friends” were only ever “acting” as friends anyway and I’m sure most friendships between women who are in the same line of work would be the same)

I actually watched a Germaine Greer video earlier about women working and it was so important – we’ve only really been working for less than a century or so. That’s less than a hundred years for us to socially acclimate to the notion of gender equality in the work place. We are only just learning about our gender’s capacity towards competitiveness.

AND BOY, WAS THAT FUN FOR ME. (I often need to disclaim when I am being sarcastic. Actually I was fucked over by people who had no idea how liberated they were by having a friend like me and how much I contributed to their self esteem, and how my honesty saved them from embarrassing themselves, and how my inability to be embarrassed saved them from embarrassing themselves – and how when I defended someone, it was because when I defend someone other people shut the fuck up – I do not defend people to be popular or likeable. I am not a likeable person. I have no desire to be liked or to be popular.

I will tell you this in absolute honesty – I have only ever wanted a short, select group of friends that I could control freak into looking hot – so I could take photographs of them. And maybe make movies of them. That’s all I really wanted – that is my nastiest, darkest, shadow self. I didn’t want to get to know anyone, I didn’t want to talk about my fucked up life. I enjoyed being in love with strangers who kept their noses out of my business. I enjoyed knowing that I am capable of creating in-love bubbles for awkward and unusual people who wouldn’t otherwise get on with one another and who could laugh through pain.

I grew up with a brother who you’d pay to piss off and a sister that would do the nastiest shit behind your back and act like your very bestfriend minutes later. I grew up fighting all the time. I have never known truly “kind” people, I have known some of the meanest fuckers to walk the Planet. So I know what the word “kindness” really means and I know how to love the cruellest people around.

The thing about “taking damage” – gamer speak – is that when someone does something to you, you can do it back – whenever you want to. That is something that you learn as a child growing up with older siblings. If you asked me who I am really loyal to I’d say “my older brother” and it would make you hate him for it if you were attracted to me, but when you hurt people I like or love – I hurt you. If you insult something or someone that I like or love – I will probably turn on you.

I do not do forgiveness. I can do it – but I don’t. If all you’ve grown up with is abusive people, that is all you know how to attract and actually – when I’m treated with good manners and respect it really doesn’t matter to me, who you are – or what kind of person you are. So you might say “if your brother was abusive, why do you protect him?” and I’d reply with either “it is none of your business” or with “he is the only genuine person in the World to me, he is the only person that gets me – and more often than not – I’ve found that people who have known him have wished that they were him.”

I would actually die for my brother – which doesn’t mean much anymore – but I’d of died for him my entire life. When you realise what the British Royal family have done to my family (accept it, the awkwardness – accept that the lack of pretentiousness that people admired about my family is now accompanied by a “YOU? ROYALTY?” – yeeeah, SAME. THATS HOW I FEEL ABOUT IT BUT THAT DOESN’T CHANGE IT. DOES IT.), doesn’t change what the police have done, what football culture has done to my family. It isn’t a game, we are owed an apology and compensation.

And I am deeply spiritual as you all know, and karma is real – as I’m sure you’re all becoming vastly aware – I’m sure we’re years off a quantifiable scientific formula for it.)

If you do not apologise to and compensate my family, there are people right down that butterfly chain that will be affected as we have been and who have not been raised to cope with what I was raised to cope with.

Don’t protect someone to be popular, learn about genuine intentions. If you want to protect someone, you better be sure that they won’t do to you what they did to the person attacking them.

I mean if you want to protect Lady Diana publicly, your life probably will suffer for it but that is genuine ‘patriotism’ and so is having good manners. ANYWAY.

These are Bloch tights. My mother was a ballerina. I was raised by a woman who went to a dance school where they caned you for not having a proper turn out. She doesn’t remember anything about it and that is probably because she died in one of her many surgeries and was replaced with an Elizabeth clone. You all want to be Illuminati, you better accept that it’s pretty fucking weird stuff that they didn’t teach you in secondary school or whatever level of education you completed.

And the celebrities that we’re being force fed are by coincidence people that never finished school – so that the royal family and governments can ensure they don’t amass too much power. It is significant that Oprah Winfrey and Kanye West were given doctorates but only if you speak Illuminati – which is “the truth”. It’s not “the evil eye”… which is an Arabic and Jewish appropriation referring to the DAMAGE a person is capable of doing when they experience JEALOUSY towards you – the Illuminati eye  ironically is a very different symbolic reference that represents SEEING the truth. The LIGHT. As far as the ILLUMINATI are concerned – there are TWELVE souls in this Universe (It’s in ancient Greek mysticism as well) that have been split up – lots and lots of and lots of times – and there are, I think, two bodies occupied by the thirteenth soul.

So, where movies are our form of engagement with Art – we are “twelve characters” living the same “twelve stories” over, and over and over and over. Because we keep doing the same thing. There HAD to be VAMPIRESssSSS because some people KEEP getting killed. And then we have ILLUMINATI KIDS who are observed from CONCEPTION and are used to investigate into stories of the past.

“ILLUMINOUS” “LIGHT” – UNCOVERING MYSTERY. (That’s why I strongly advise that people do not fetishise the Illuminati – or power. Unless your family actually have it. If your family have “money” – your family probably don’t have power but they probably have some kind of ‘economic’ power meaning that they get more money that they are sure not to spend properly, or else the money is taken away.)

My mother was a ballerina, I’ve no idea how good she was but I do know that she had two very strange injuries that incapacitated her. After meeting the “Queen of England”.

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and a leopard print pyjama shirt with a pair of nude tights from Bloch.

I don’t have the budget for such fantastic pairs of tights but theres an online sale and I advise this brand before any other. They’re made to be worn and not to tear or lose shape because they’re for dancers.

They sucked you in in all the right places before people knew that underwear could do that and – not that I am – I’m legit not actually –  I shower like Keith Flint back in his rockstar days (UNOFTEN – unless my shower is really pretty – it’s not right now) they are made to absorb a lot of moisture and it’s difficult to make them smelly.
Notice the marks from where they were sucking me in. FYI I’m iIIIiiinto women in tights – and the marks that clothes that fit too tightly leave. I know those marks make anorexic women want to have a sexy-little-pre-sex cry but thank GOD and Christ all fucking mighty that anorexia is out of fashion now.)

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FYI I’d like to think I am Big’s mother that he probably can’t introduce to anyone or invite to all of his weddings. Tell me that Mr Biggles isn’t one of my future sons.

Actually it makes sense that biggles would get jelly about the Jazz Man. By the way this is my favourite jazz song.

I once legitimately hit on a guy who had moments before – admitted to me that he was a fat child

(I asked him actually, as a pre-flirting joke – if he had been a fat child – psychics ask you the most fucked up questions by accident and he admitted that he had been obese)

with a “you only want what you can’t have” – genuinely expecting him to charmingly retort with a smug grin and a glance at his glass (to indicate COYNESS – NOT TO INDICATE THAT HE NEEDED TO ROOFIE PEOPLE – HOT PEOPLE DO NOT NEED TO ROOFIE PEOPLE. SOME DO, I’M SURE, BUT HOT PEOPLE DON’T NEED TO USE ROOFIES AND QUITE ENJOY WOMEN WHO PLAY THE “HARD TO GET” GAME. IT IS NOT A THREAT TO YOU OR YOUR WEIRD, SAD VIKING MASCULINITY.) “I can have whoever I want” – he was that attractive physically. He stormed out of a club and rode his little bicycleta home after I said that. I explained later over a guilty text message that he was so good looking I had expected him to understand the humour and that he ought to have said that, and he actually took it very seriously and later I realised he had date raped me. I should teach men how to date.

  1. If a guy that likes football invites you to his house for a drink – even if you have consensual sex it is likely that he has roofied you and that he and his housemates and/or friends will have sex with you while you’re asleep
  2. Danish men think women genuinely like to be raped. Maybe some of them think it is a really spiritual experience, I don’t know.

Anyway.

I fall in love with people like Samantha has sex with people (not you) – and I fantasise over the arts and domesticity and the perfect bento lunch box like Charlotte does (but I am WAY more kawaii) and I also have a lowkey admiration for bisexual, SINCERE, bald, Jewish guys – WITH DEGREES – with hilarious temper problems that I can bully about their lack of style and poor communication skills (there is little I can bullied about without laughing hysterically and that happens to be the thing that pisses Jewish men off the most), I guiltlessly overshare my personal life and obsess about myself at inappropriate times and prefer the idea of having a wardrobe full of my own handbags and shoes rather than sharing one with a husband, like Carrie and I think that I aspire to someday be a Miranda-esque cut-throat professional of somekind. Also they all sort of bully men in their own way and what a time to be alive to witness that in mainstream smoke – I mean mainstream media. Men have been bullying us for years.

went grocery shopping, had a look – both – in & around some of the local charity shoppes and visited the brick-a-brack. (Actually it isn’t a brick-a-brack; it’s a fantastic shoppe that sells pieces you really won’t find anywhere else.) I’d like to make a proper video about the shoppes here in a month, so Brighton has some time to learn to mind their manners. A woman oh so subtley said something knowing I would hear, like “the hospitals only over there” and guardian angel Lucifer (he’s in the bible so suck on my fattest one and if you try and have a child – look forward to SMEE of Peterpan fame – the Disney version) joked that they’d both be in hospital soon. Enjoy the forecast.

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(I imagine that biggles would say “like HELL are you my mother in those shoes, but thanks for taking back Vans”)

This song came on when I was snooping around in a charity shoppe. (poor biggles)

I had to avoid the Vintage Workshoppe today because I’d of spent ALL OF MY MONEY. If you live in Brighton it is your favourite shoppe that you did not know existed.

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I have Tiger-Lily feet in this photograph. I can dance like Tiger-Lily – IN PUBLIC – and make all the other girls wish they could dance like Tiger-Lily IN PUBLIC too but. If I’m not doing it you don’t have the guts. I know I should delete it from history because I am hunching a bit and I am not accentuating my curves the way that Betty Page would’ve expected all of her slutbaby-sittees to, but if you can’t comfortably do this – don’t pretend you can comfortably do otherwise.

(Remember, the upside down pyramid represents FEMALE energy. So these are men with male bodies and female energy – before we are physical forms we are energy, so.)

Also it’s worth noting – and this is the real reason why Big won’t have babies with Carrie – that in Peter Pan that it’s an OLDER woman carrying a baby on her back in a papoose. The Levis and the Bigs have ‘milf’ fetishes. It makes their lives really difficult.

Like women who are into men carrying babies and being maternal and shit,  Levis are into women carrying babies. This fucks some people up because it leads to conversations that they do not want to have or otherwise can’t have outloud. Trust me to tell you all.

So – some women and men go into “BABY VOICE” mode (I live in baby voice mode – remember though, that I spent most of my life asleep and alone. And that by the age of about. um. thirteen? Most human beings have left the house more than me at twenty nine and spoken to more people than me, at twenty nine.) and I know that I attract people who are into that – for whatever reasons – but also those people then get accused of being ‘pedophiles’ and all sorts of nasty stuff like that.

At some point we will need Madeleine McCann to come out of whatever Russian Hideyhole they’ve got her in to explain what a REAL pedophile is. Real Pedophiles have evolved, they have lots of pretty children – even though they’re very rarely in love with their partners – and get jobs where they’re entrusted with positions that let them into people’s homes – like becoming “police men” or “firemen” and they do all their pedophilia stuff within the safety of their police and firemen appointed blocks of residential flats while their wife prepares them a meal. They like to get their pretty kids to hang out with other pretty kids and watch them do all sorts of weird stuff – they occupy the bodies of those pretty kids and those kids end up with memories that keep them mortified late into life. Fortunately that doctor ass raping me with an enema while four nurses held me down gave me such severe ptsd that I have forgotten MOST of the stuff I did in those pedophile rings. It was so kind of my colleagues at University to have reminded me of those terrible stories that I had to consume drugs to forget, with the kind of nonchalance that has me until now wondering how they got into University/survived into adulthood at all.

See you think that I’m the only person that this can be done to, but actually if you were a Jewish man you’d have been taught to be grateful for not being born a woman because it can be done to ALL women. AND SOME MEN TOO.

I have no idea how the fuck Jesus Christ controlled his erections when he was posing for those paintings but men get them ALL THE FUCKING TIME. THEY CAN’T HELP IT. MAYBE A CHILD BRUSHED UP AGAINST HIS CROTCH. WHO THE FUCK KNOWS.

I don’t know about Big being portrayed as particularly spiritual but if you are spiritual you believe that your baby and it’s mother are sharing energy when they’re pregnant. That is a nice way of saying “they take turns occupying the mother’s body”. A lot of women don’t know about that and there aren’t many men who will be prepared to explain it the way I can.

I did go to a spiritual school that taught it’s students NOT to have sex unless they were specifically trying to get pregnant. Government schools do not teach you this because they encourage young people to fall in love and have sex – they sell on the fetuses that young girls get aborted and do plenty of weird stuff for the wealthy – who often aren’t in love and who often aren’t raising their own children because they know too much about the World to be able to fall in love. Then there’s the fact that – AND IT IS IN THE BIBLE – it takes THREE to fall in love AND have babies. Scientists will tell you that “falling in love” is a chemical imbalance in the brain – that is why people who are in love all the time seem completely drunk. Men and women who go around fucking everything in the absence of love are important – for a few reasons – women NEED slutty women because those women put men in their place. This is a good thing for social evolution and it is also a bad thing, because some men get led away from relationships where they could’ve genuinely loved a person (and having sex before you’ve hung out with someone for two weeks is not going to make him love you, nor will making him marry you/making him so jealous that he marries you to stop you cheating on him/fucking with his abandonment and mummy issues that I irresponsibly joked about in my early twenties and which women used to coerce men into relationships that have fucked them up so much and that they can’t leave LITERALLY because they’re too embarrassed for me to know that I – AND MY SPIRITUAL TEACHERS – MANY OF THEM MATURE WOMEN WHO WERE PROMISCUOUS IN THEIR YOUTHS – WAS RIGHT.)

I am anti BDSM. I think it’s grotesque. I think most people aren’t mature or intelligent enough to really acknowledge the affect it has on any living thing’s brain. The ONE – ONE argument I can honestly advocate for towards it’s benefit is : if you want a sex life, sometimes you have to do stuff that would keep your weird spiritual child – THAT YOU STOLE – out of your bedroom. By doing stuff that scares them. I don’t know.

Anyway. POOR LEVIS AND BIGS. Also if you were to research the archetypes in the Greek Pantheon you’d learn that we have a karmic history wherein daughters/sons/mothers/fathers fall in love with one another and it affects families. If i humped your leg as a child, I’m very sorry, I wasn’t in love with you and I probably wasn’t attracted to you – I was bored and I really didn’t think you knew I was doing it. Also I wouldn’t of associated it with sex because I didn’t know what sex was until I was at least eight? I did pretend to be stupid for a lot of my infancy because I learned that if you pretend to be stupid you can eavesdrop on conversations and the ‘adults’ will think you don’t know what they’re talking about. I grew up with a brother ten years my senior, who was a drug addict at fifteen and a LOT of his friends. I mean most of my memories are very isolated but I have a few cool ones and I held onto those like that guy in Cast Away holds onto Wilson. His friend.

I think at some point in my infancy I genuinely decided I wanted to sleep until I was an adult. And for the most part I actually did that. So take that as far as you want. I think that I love like a child does (and I think Carrie’s character and her friends – BAR SAMANTHA YOU GODDESS do too) (do you have any idea how much guts it takes to portray a woman with a man’s sexual appetite? probably not because that requires empathy and apparently most people don’t have that unless they’ve grown up experiencing serious, serious abuse.) thats quite nice for people like Big – and probably Levi (apparently his mother IS a prostitute but I’ve not seen any episodes with her in them yet and I’m KEEN to) who are professionals in psychotic industries, surrounded by sociopaths who get married for status and visit dominatrixes because thats the only thing that actually gives them an erection – and women who know too much to be genuine and really do only want you for your money.

And then that is how “the game” happened. The game is a thing that men do where they basically do the stuff every man they think you’ve loved has done to you – you know how you rudely watch my memories? Ladies? Men can do that to you. They tell you they can’t – but they can. And they do. Sometimes they make you think that you are sexually turned on by being abused but you’re not – if you read Germaine Greer’s “the Whole Woman” you’d learn that sexual energy comes from people with penises. So no – YOU’RE not turned on – HE IS. It’s SHARING energy. And sometimes you are sharing energy with men who aren’t even physically in the same room as you. But lets return to “The Game.”

Some men, for example footballers, are retarded. They have never been in love, mostly. They wouldn’t want to have become footballers if they had ever been in love. They play the game and that involves seeing how much they can get away with doing to a woman under the guise of ‘unconditional love’. This means they steal “personal jokes” from your first relationship, they create ‘levels’ through which they engage with women, if you were one of the lucky ones that got bought lots of gifts by ‘daddy’ then they’ll buy you lots of gifts (fucking HAHAHAHAHAA by the way) – a lot of men have been leaving their bodies since infancy to stalk women and watch them do stuff, going to the toilet, showering, bathing etc. So they aren’t very clever. If you want to know what books they’ve read, you have to find out which women they’ve been stalking.

So if you’re one of those women that had tingly feelings reading Dave Pelzer – that’s probably one of the men in your life, don’t worry. But they do later use that to fuck you over with and make you feel guilty about. They might’ve heard stuff about “twinflames” or read about BDSM – and guilt is a form of controlling another person. If you have never loved anyone, if you married the first person you slept with – they’re not your twinflame. Gamers will understand. Twinflames are your “final boss” in IN-LOVE relationships. They’re all of your life lessons condensed into one person.

People that play football left school at sixteen – and if they have learned too much about social hierarchies like the Illuminati, they try to dominate everyone that they know to climb a ladder it takes many, many, many familial generations to climb – TOGETHER -, even if it means stalking women and faking all of their in-love relationships by doing stuff their first boyfriends did

Now I’ll explain MY family. My sister is not an academic. She was good at GCSE level maths and manipulating men. Not as good as me, but good enough. The difference between us is that she grew up with Omi – who told her the truth about boyland.

I was not told the truth. I listened at Sunday School and I actually concentrated on watching my favourite shows – which taught me how to speak. Even if I could manipulate men, and perform an attraction – I wouldn’t – because it would be dishonest. She wanted to be a ‘lawyer’ when she grew up because my mother encouraged that aspiration, and I think that’s great. Whereas she could only get so far because even though she had a private education, and I mostly didn’t, she hadn’t paid any attention to spiritual laws. If you ignore spiritual laws – which are a bigger deal than the laws that make police feel im-pow-tant – you aren’t going to get very far with the Illuminati, thats for sure.

That is why people like Tupac are important – that is why people like Ville Valo – who sang about LOVE were important. That is why Disney films are important. That is why secret societies like O.T.O are important.

Your shadowself might want power but if the self you show to everyone isn’t as flawless as how the Catholics like to portray the Virgin Mary (who was a compulsive liar – and had to be – or she’d of been buried in a hole with her head sticking out and stoned to fucking death) – your shadow self is fucked. And we are constantly alternating between the two of those. And all the selves in between those.

My shadow self and my “light” self are quite aligned. My Shadow self loves the idea of power – because she can use her power to do “good” things. My lightself likes pot plants and enjoys watering them. My shadow self enjoys how much it pisses people off that I can take care of pot plants. My lightself likes to make food that is pretty so she can take a photograph of it and also because she likes food that tastes nice. My shadow self enjoys how much it pisses people off that no one has taught me to cook and that generally, my meals taste better than any of the food I’ve been served by chefs that weren’t working at my favourite junk food franchises. My lightself is actually much crueller, to other people, than my shadowself – my lightself will say out of honesty if she doesn’t like what you’re wearing. She’d feel like a liar if she didn’t and she’d feel terrible for it. My shadow self would tell you that you are beautiful as you are and would justify doing so using spiritual laws that teach that it is wrong to be superficial.

You cannot be Illuminati if you have not had a spiritual education. It will kill you.

Another thing: if you want to be Illuminati, you have to be good at something. And not just one thing – you have to be good at lots of things. The idea is that we evolve through learning. Not playing a game and competing with people. That is not evolution unless you are doing sports – football is not a sport because it is actually quite UNSPORTSMANLY. It is a game – but it is not a sport. Martial Arts are sometimes a sport, but that is only if you have learned about honour and respect. It combines philosophy and all sorts of humanitarian arts and sciences that footballers have no braincell capacities for.

My talent is communicating. I am so good at it they had to put me in a hospital and render me afraid of expressing myself. That is a very stupid thing to have done to someone that you believed was mute. And yes, I suppose I was. People certainly thought so. If you want to converse with me I have to feel safe in your company – that means I have to trust you. That means you have to be your vulnerable self. You can act fake and disingenuous around me if it gives you an upperhand, but I will do the same. And what I have to say will stick in your memory and what you have to say will be swiftly erased from mine. More often than not it is. The PTSD. Thats what happens.

So to that.. the shock that people get that I can write but that I won’t speak to them, and when I do sometimes try to write to people they occasionally won’t reply or get obnoxious about it and start playing a word game with me when actually a conversation with me has the capacity to take you out of that “game” you shat yourselves into – because I have social status – whether you OR I like it or not – and actually the truth is that my being a mute child was a result of feeling I was being lied to and that people were unable to communicate honestly.

I think at some point some of these men accessed information from the free masons – who WORSHIP WOMEN (and not in the way that people who practice BDSM “worship” women – as in they truly believe that women are divine) or spiritual schools – but never got an education that accompanied that information. Or 4chan. There’s a lot of weird stuff on 4chan. These men could not compete with me conversationally because I would embarrass them – we’d both know they were repeating things they’d learned from stalking my family, my teachers and myself or that they’d seen on TV. They’ve since learned that the media is endorsed by all sorts of financial entities (they’ve even been stupid enough to invest in a few – whereas they’d only previously done so to have their wives appear as celebrities in “Hello Magazine” or to arrange to have their wives insulted for having cellulite and stretchmarks two weeks after shitting out a baby that both of them ought to have known could not have been theirs) and that not a single one of their opinions is generally their own.

I would encourage you to read ALL OF DAN BROWN’S BOOKS. I learned a LOT from DAN BROWN’S BOOKS. YOU TOO MIGHT ALSO LEARN A LOT FROM DAN BROWN’S BOOKS.

We’re coming up to the worst bit, one sec. Imagine falling asleep at five or six and waking up very occasionally in between to go to school on days when you didn’t need to take a shit – and then going to University so you could finally do drugs and dance like your big brother did. And then realising at some point that everyone in life was competing over the most fucking ridiculous shit and that neither you nor they had even the vaguest understanding of how stupid it would be to compete with someone who had never had any motivation to do stuff when she realised she was never going to be a famous actor.

As in – you are this threatened by someone who has been mostly asleep since she was a child. And that the years she spent awake she was on drugs that supposedly make you “stupid”. I went to school once or twice a week, on good months, my entire life. Your sixteen years at school definitely beats my .. um. Maybe year or two attending school. And you are that rude to someone that has been a victim of a system that you think you have any business running, when actually you are perpetuating it into an oblivion that will – honestly – have you all wishing for your own deaths.

Obviously that is a very sardonic version of a life story but if you wanted the abridged version that would be it. I know you like the bits with abuse, you can read my entire blog for those. I am bored of those. I am bored of the idea of your girlfriends using Tor (i think an ex-crush of mine programmed that because he was embarrassed that I could see who was lurking my tumblr – literally thats why Tor exists. EMBARRASSING ISNT IT) or private browsers to read my blog or watch Zoella videos and that you actually use them to do so and the idea that you might do the sexual energy thing when I talk about how shit my life was, on my blog, is also. ugh. so. embarrassing.

But lets return to slutty women and slutty men and sex and the city.

Slutty men are also important – but not for any good reason, and particularly to the NHS – because they can be used to impregnate women who are only sleeping with them to get over the fact that that they’re in love with someone who prefers the town bicycleta (I LOVE THE TOWN BICYCLETA – IF SHE STAYS AWAY FROM MY BOYFRIEND/S SHE IS THE BEST WOMAN IN THE WORLD TO ME AND SHE’LL BE DAMNED TO FIND A BETTER WINGMAN TO ENABLE HER FEMINIST-FORWARD SLUTTINESS), to transmit STDs and STIs that get fertile women into clinics where they can do all sorts of tests on them and tell them all sorts of lies, and generally they are only tested for fertility (because every guy you meet is planned for you, in advance, particularly if you’ve attended a government school – but especially if you attended school with ME) and later arranged to have abortions. That’s right – every abortion that you – you and you have had was PLANNED. BY SOMEONE ELSE. SOMEONE YOU’VE PROBABLY NEVER MET AND WILL NEVER MEET.

If you think your ‘state school’ education was free, you’ve been lied to.

And that on this Planet if you mistreat a woman carrying a baby it probably renders you infertile for a LONG TIME.

Try watching Sex and the City from a man’s perspective – that everyone that any of those women dated or fucked was arranged for them. The one man that Samantha could have loved – as in a man who was as driven as her professionally and successful and attractive enough for her to introduce to her gaggle of babes – ended up cheating with a woman or many – probably many – by far beneath her in every respect and ruining her life. Which would have affected her career. I mean if we are talking Illuminati the narrative changes entirely.

I recall that an ex “friend” once commented (lets just say I was her sexy babysitter and that I should’ve been paid but I wasn’t. All I got was a crappy “benefit” lipstick that I would never have worn and a tacky cross necklace that again, I only wore once on the day it was gifted to me.) that the “charlotte” character has a miscarriage and that “carrie’s” character is so self obsessed that she makes it all about her.
It is ironic to me that she could have made such a comment, when she did so much worse to me in our friendship.
But where spirituality is concerned – why did she have that miscarriage? What men are they connected to – that could have been eaves dropping influenced that conversation?

I mean – you use what I’ve written here to explore your favourite stories. They’re all of our stories. I am really interested by history – why did Bloody Mary keep having miscarriages? I mean – obviously because the country hated being catholic – and why did people pretend that Elizabeth the first was going to marry any of the men she was being introduced to? Were she and her ladies in waiting being drugged at night and then raped? PROBABLY, YES.

SAD. Almost as sad as the World making my family – who have lived so humbly – responsible for something that has nothing to do with them – and through our being humble, have decided that they can COMPETE with our family. A world that would venerate someone like “The Queen of England” when we all know she had Lady Diana murdered, while she was pregnant. I mean how stupid are you all? The idea that you knew anything that I didn’t and you are STILL THIS STUPID is SHOCKING.

Back to the Peter Pan Video. Up there amongst the text.

Actually I’ve been thinking lately that it would be really cool if we had a sexy effeminate/raver/pop/electro/goth Native American popstar that was too good for white women and still lived with and probably toured with his aunts/mothers/sisters. We have never had one of those.

Because I haven’t got enough to do, I’m starting a blog about Brighton Streetwear. I really liked people’s outfits today but I think you need a link to redirect them to if you’re going to approach them to ask if you can photograph them. I’ll get onnit today. I updated my LookBook. I have had three views and I credit them all to myself. A’thankyou. (Maybe I am also Charlotte’s Jewish husband’s mother as well)

This song just came on YouTube and I think I’ll leave it here as a post finale.

I’m currently watching and listening to Nacho Libre and trying to see it from the perspective of an ‘alien’ or two. If you try to do the same it will give you a fresh perspective. It is a comedy but it is beautifully filmed and I have roots in Mexico – I’ve never been but my Grandmother Conchita – her original name being Concepcion – is Mexican. Watch the movie. Hah.

I watched a terrible horror movie – perhaps not terrible and deserving of another watch – called “As Above, So Below” : when I meditated awhile ago I learned that our existence as physical beings serve as coordinates of truth. So while we might be beneath and inbetween all sorts of dimensions – for example Esther Hicks-Tarantino says that the characters in our favourite animations and stories are no less real than your or I – and when I had my ‘spiritual awakening’ – if we can really call that terrible time that – I realised that the archetypes in my tarot cards and every story I’ve ever read are very real. When I lived with my spiritual teacher Lisa she asked me to type up a document for her – I think it was her way of getting me to read it – and I only got to the second page. I learned about the minutiae of the design of flowers and how they mimic the development of a fetus from a single cell to many – and the significance in the numerical figures in the bible. The “twelve disciples” – “and Mary Magdalene” who had not been mentioned in that document. The patriarchy prevails seemingly even in the pursuit of spirituality and certainly in Christianity – not Catholicism so much, which celebrates the devinity in art and appeals to me more than Judaeo Christianity actually. If only because of that. I think if someone can conceive the possibility of an “intelligent designer” and the concept of a timeless nonphysical reality – that it is probably not of their own imagination. I think our minds attempt to make sense of that information by providing some analogy that we can understand in our individual languages and that’s probably the pain of the illusion of being an individual. Which is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to be actually. I am okay with pain and I prefer that pain to the idea of being of one mind with people and beings who it is beyond safe to assert that are not connected to me – could not be as they are and be connected to me. I am familiar with my own shadow and my own known self and neither of those – even the very worst parts of me can relate to those people or beings. I don’t like to call them beings but I don’t like to call them people either.

I don’t know that our imaginations are not some pass-the-parcelled information that we receive in big bang static-esque residue as is present in the static feed on old televisions.

(When you speak to me profoundly and I go silent it is because I need time to think about it and when I think about things I go on journeys like the above and how on Earth could I verbalise that? It’s taken me twenty something years to be able to write those paragraphs.)

ANYWAY.

I’ve realised that both my phone and one of my favourite camera lenses has gone missing. I have not left the house with that lens and I know my phone was somewhere in my bed when I last had it. The idea that either of them have been removed from my room really unsettles me but I have a feeling that I’ll find both.

Here’s what I wore today. I was thinking of Khleopatra and Vicki Pollard. I burned the hair off my stomach with a lighter because I was too lazy to wax.

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My kitchen tongs are not gigantic, my kitchen is very small in size. I am used to a small kitchen because I had one growing up but this is taking time to get used to. If I go to sleep without washing up once, the kitchen is technically a mess.

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For dinner I had a pork steak baked with lemon, an apple, elder flower cordial and an egg. I also had some spinach and tomato and I’m pretending that is enough ingredients to call a salad but if the rules in Harvest Moon apply it probably isn’t technically/legally/officially a salad. I am going to go and eat the other one, standing up, and then come back to finish this post.

I made a scientific discovery today but also I had a very profound moment I wished I was high for cos it would’ve been prettier.

Here is a video I made about that little bag of flowering tea that I won’t be able to consume. Or maybe I should consume it because I imagine that these beetles have been somehow living off me because I don’t understand how they could have been living in pure darkness, without a source of water and without oxygen. Unless plants give off oxygen even in death.

Actually it is quite strange but not really, I guess, as to some extent, as I’ve realised I live the narrative of my day backwards – earlier I found some spores in some raspberries that had gone off and I’d never seen anything like it. I put the spores in little containers I bought awhile ago and I’m hoping to make my own spore-terrariums. I was concerned that they’d need moisture and oxygen but I think theres plenty of both.

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I have some inexpensive faux pearls that I found in a charity shop and I decided that the ultimate luxury for children would be a pearl abacus. I used to obsess over abacuseseses when I was younger and they decorated banks with them, and that sounds like it was a long time ago but it wasn’t all that long ago that that was a genuine form of entertainment to me. I am glad that children are entertained by computers and technology now, even if their imaginations are a little bit lacking sometimes.

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That is not a wedding ring or an engagement ring, that is just a little ring that only fits on the bottom end of my fingers. If I ever pretend to marry someone again (I have told people, on and off, since I was at least eleven years old – that I’d “marry them” and while I might’ve meant it that second I did not mean it in the way that people mean it when they walk down an aisle. If you want to marry me I own half of everything you own and you own half of everything I own and that’s only WHILE we’re married. When we unmarry I will forget you exist and if I unforget it will only be out of brief pity. Hypothetically. If you cannot say you’d like to marry someone out loud you probably shouldn’t marry them. I have a lot of practice saying things like that out loud because it is my way of saying “I friend-love-you-and-find-you-attractive-but-I-only-flirt-with-you-to-make-so-and-so-jealous-and-it-is-sad-because-apparently-i-made-other-people-that-i-didnt-know-found-me-attractive-jealous-too”

You wouldn’t think that a person who is mostly mute

Imagine writing this: and it being one of the most important things you’ve done for a society that has genuinely treated you like absolute fucking shit. I can cope with a hard time, I really can – most people can’t. A lot of people would’ve killed themselves if they’d had my life. I’m too lazy. I mean this deserves more explanation but I think if you play League of Legends I’d use Ekko’s ability list and the ‘Guardian Angel’ item to explain and that you’d have to take my word for it.

It’d be selfish to kill myself – and not because anyone cares about me – but because we all have those shitty life purposes and mine is probably being annoying/going viral accidentally.


 

The fact is that I had an ex of four years who would almost cry every time he engaged with the Job Centre and he was living in a council house in the shittiest part of East London – not the trendy part – and he wasn’t really the kind of person that could easily cry. He and I had an incredible relationship and unfortunately he was damaged because he came from a single home with a mother and father that had both been damaged in their personal lives. He’d seen his mother being beaten up by his father and had a girlfriend that he’d been with prior to me, that people insisted he should’ve been with instead of me – even though she had friends who were in the BNP Youth (The British version of the Hitler youth actually) and who used to call him things like “half breed”. At the time we started dating, a movie came out and I think he didn’t realise that it really was for us. The word half breed is thrown around a lot in the movie. He got a tattoo of it on his forearms, it depicted his favourite comic character John Constantine – who was sometimes portrayed as the uncle of a girl called “Kit” (my nickname) and sometimes portrayed as the boyfriend of a girl called “Kit”.

Like me, he was the sort who would prefer to laugh.

He looks like the guy in this Lady Gaga video. When we broke up I learned a year later that the girl he’d left me for had tried to stab him and attacked him with sharp things. I mean realistically I was probably better for him but I spent a year of my life wanting to be dead because we’d broken up and I’ll never really be the person I was before that and thats the person he’d of wanted to be with.


 

At the advise of the Citizen’s Advice Bureau, I have been asked to annotate a letter documenting a series of mistreatments in my engagements with the Job Centre as an official complaint.

I have reason to believe that the Brighton Job Centre is unable to handle my case professionally, honestly and ethically so I have not addressed this to them.

For your records, please find my account under the following details – [I’m pretending that blocking these out will make a difference as to the fact that everyone knows my business and really ought to be killed and incinerated and or transferred to the bodies of animals with short life spans. Ants are good.]

My Universal Credit account is being mishandled and that my information is being given to and discussed amongst staff I haven’t been properly introduced to and who were not dealing with my account.

I hate to use a crude term but to suggest that I have been ‘gossiped’ about is appropriate.

I know that not one of the individuals I have spoken with at Brighton Job Centre had read my journal prior to speaking with me.

I did confront them about the fact and they did lie, and when asked to repeat statements made in my journal they were unable to do so, even briefly – which confirmed my suspicions.

On three occasions now I have been met with unacceptable treatment from the Job Centre staff and very personal threats have been made, including the threat that my payments would be halted or delayed.

On one occasion the motivation for doing so appeared to be that my ‘job advisor’ was ‘quite eager to meet me’. The tone she applied to the statement was terrifying and I very reasonably verbalised this to her later.

I have been lied about by staff at the Job Centre on two occasions and I’ve received obnoxious, offensive and threatening letters as a result.

On both occasions I was purposely goaded by your staff who seem to be quite accomplished at provoking people who are already upset. It was self defence if I was rude and I assure you that Punita at the Ealing branch (I have moved recently from Ealing to Brighton) can confirm that I was mistreated and that I was a victim of unacceptable rudeness from your staff.

I’m sure that anyone who treated me with respect at the job centre will confirm that their respect was met with that same respect, three fold.

I’d appreciate an apology and for the truth to be added to the inaccurate statements that have already been made about me.

I believe that these people should lose their positions of employment because they cannot be trusted with personal information.

I am so distressed and upset and I’m at a loss for who to communicate to about it.

Regards,

Karina.

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It true – but let me tell you why – so you don’t use it against me in some years time when my story repeats itself as stories do.

Here is what I believe separates people: their wisdom acquired through experience, their ability to persevere. You can offer me two versions of a soul – two people living simultaneous lives. Perhaps one might be a wealthy white person who had been given everything she has and who had not suffered, aside from perhaps being quite physically unattractive – and the other, a wealthy black person who had been taught to fight for everything she has and who had not suffered but had been raised by a woman who had suffered many lifetimes over – and who was physically attractive. I mean I’d personally ask the black person for advice because without being specific (I am being VERY specific) black people have a history of slavery. We have soul karma – that is a contract our fragment “signed” before incarnating, agreeing to certain life lessons for the sake of soul evolution. Ideally the outcome is that we are met with the soul fragments of our twin flame as a result of learning everything we need to in that assigned physical form. Vampires are removed, I think, from that particular form of karma and many as I understand are uninclined to pursue their twinflames. I mean if their twinflame dies they can wait around for a new version in a new body, but the karma between them will be the same.

We also have familial karma – that is, for example, when a family member of a family we chose to incarnate to (although apparently a lot of stealing goes on) for example chooses to pursue a career in politics and makes a decision that affects billions of people – and for generations over their entire family takes some responsibility for that decision, be it good or bad. For example my Great Grandfather decided to send the Jews – who had post world war 2, almost been wiped out – to a country that carries the evidence of being the oldest historical point that they could call home. Arabs have a lot of money and are quite prone to being manipulative, and envy – and could have housed any of the Palestinians that had to be rehomed (trust me – you have no idea how much money arabs have and nor will you ever – and good for them) and it created issues because the Prophet Mohammed was an anti-semite. THERE IS A REASON HE WAS AN ANTI-SEMITE. But also when you ‘defend’ a person, you take on their karma. So if Jews were being lied about, your family – who defended those Jews – will also be lied about. This is a very basic explanation of a very complicated kind of karma that links people that call one another family.

and we also have genetic karma. A basic example of this is “do you have any diseases in your genes?” “where did you get that fat ass?” “I got it from my mama” etc.
Are you 1% Native American? Well – that is not nothing. You’ll have that sad history in your genes and whats worse is that many Native Americans will say it doesn’t count – well that goes against a spirituality that encourages their people to value their ancestors whether they exist in a physical body or not. (You stroke that 1% lovingly and say “you are significant and I will find out your story” – but maybe don’t if you’re the kind to get fucked up by painful stories)

Suffering is generally how we all evolve.

BDSM enthusiasts will agree – my favourite BDSM enthusiasts are the kind that eventually realise after an interesting story of personal discovery that if you LOVE someone you have absolutely no desire to hurt or subjugate them at ALL. BDSM enthusiasts are very inclined to create a hierarchical dynamic where there is a ‘submissive’ versus a ‘dominant’ and I keep finding that the people that label themselves as ‘dominants’ have a karma of embarrassing themselves. Finding what makes you equal to another person, that might have more – or less – than you is actually much more interesting than working out new ways to cause harm to one another to prove that you love each other ‘unconditionally’. If you love yourself unconditionally first you are wholly uninterested in this sex sport. But it is relevant to the film still above and it is where my head is right now. Academically.

Buddhists will say “that is the only thing we have in common with every being on this Planet”.

I have developed a tolerance to some kinds of suffering in the way that you develop a tolerance to MDMA if you take it too often. And if you are T-total (I used to be) –  to explain the idea of tolerance – when you eat a meal laced with salt, eventually you need more and more to be able to taste it because you do develop a tolerance to it. When you eat a meal with lemon juice, the same applies. You develop a ‘tolerance’ to it. The same applies to abuse also.

The issue for me was that many of you didn’t really know how much I’d suffered my entire life because I learned that showing you are suffering is a form of weakness.

If I were your mothers I’d probably have beaten you up for the stuff you did to me – and maybe because I’ve toilet trained so many of you, I should claim the title – but more importantly thats why I’m prepared to believe that if I have kids somewhere in time and space – they are literally hiding from me, in a spaceship, in space.

I know that before I had ever learned about space or time that I was able to tell a person I thought to be a friend that it was possible for people in the future and people in the past to meet at a synchronised time point in space, having more patience for shitty science books he found a piece of literature that confirmed I was right – although how on earth the scientist could’ve known is beyond me.

If that were the case wouldn’t want to meet them, because I don’t like cowards and I don’t really have that much respect for people that run away either. i mean unless you are literally running from a tyrannysaurus rex or a midgar serpent or something that you know is well within it’s nature and right to kill and eat you? Like a TITAN?

I’d maybe forgive you for running away – in that case.

 

“she will never live a normal life” is code for “we got addicted to her” and “it was as though she was trying to work out the truth beyond any reasonable doubt” (that is because I was and I will continue to do so.)

and “we know you’re owed billions in compensation and we keep creating excuses for you not to get it because we’re afraid that you might use the money to do what we would’ve done but what is worse is that actually the truth is we know you wouldn’t invest in making our lives miserable by arranging for us to be stalked and to have a shit time but you’d use it to do humanitarian things – like building a cooperative in Uganda that you’ve been planning since you were 16 (that makes it very hard for us to portray Israeli people as cold blooded murderers and we know that WE’VE never done anything decent like that)

“you might invest in having a much nicer home than we have and we’ve learned about ‘the game’ and we are stuck in it because we never developed personalities and didn’t realise that the best way to get through ‘the game’ was to have developed one of those – and to have paid attention stories like ‘aesops fables’ and the ‘religious stories’ they told in school”

“jealousy is the most difficult human emotion to cope with”

“we know that the longer we prolong this the more jail time we are likely to get and that the sooner we go to jail the better because the death penalty will be reinstated but we’re trying to work out which we’d honestly prefer”

 

I used to watch this on repeat. I know there was a book amongst my childhood belongings that taught that this was supposed to illustrate the downsides of communism

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4egC00K7Dg

I recall that in a drama class, I was cast as the horse for a theatre production – who I don’t remember appearing in the animated version – with a liking for ribbons. I think her name was Clover.

And that was because I had a terrible memory and she had very few lines, but later in life I do think she was the perfect character for me. The idea of there being a character in an allegory about a kind of communism that was so fundamentally uniform, as that of Soviet Russia – and as my drama teacher mentioned at the time, was really quite an important one. That communism could rob some people of their identities or the freedom to express that identity. This horse symbolises the occasional human being that has something inside that it expresses through fashion (I think that the metaphor can go much deeper but lets leave it there because certainly at university, it was my clothes that pissed everyone off – and I still looked good in a XL nurses shirt and shorts when I was in a psychiatric ward – so good they gave me a drug that made me ugly, actually.)

  that likes ribbons is quite an important one – that is: the idea that there could be people who aspire to be individuals and who quite like to use their short lyfe to bring beauty to others and to find beauty in everything

The-me-that-went-to-University (not to imply a SEPARATE me – she is still very much a PAST version of me) would’ve responded to being told she was royalty with “so? we are all equal” (and maybe have thought: but even if we ARE equal – I win cos I’m hotter than thou)

(And maybe later yet she’d of had a nervous breakdown because she’d have memories of her sister being given an education worth more than the house she lived in with her mother, designer clothes worth thousands of pounds, holidays worth thousands of pounds, and I can assure you that amount of money was never spent on me – not once in my entire life – and the first holiday I went on was a trip to Uganda when I was older. I mean I went on a weird trip to Spain at some point with my “ma” but she spent the whole time telling me off – I mean it – The WHOLE time – telling me off. A Spanish waitress once told her to let me enjoy a sandwich because she kept giving me “etiquette” tips and I was about to cry at how much I hated being on holiday.)

(I have a choice between laughing or crying about being abused, and choosing to laugh doesn’t make me a robot.)

(I realise at one point someone told me “at XY school the entire school is required to stand up when a Prince walks into the room” (they had, I think, some Al Saud boys in the school and perhaps it was to see what I’d say – or perhaps it was only out of coincidence she told me – but I wouldn’t of wanted anyone to do anything like that for me if I had been brought up the way the “British royal family” had been.)

but this me would say “actually we’re NOT all equal, we are divided by the lessons we have learned in life” and she’d really mean it.

I’m still not into people doing anything like that for me, but I would probably do that for my auntie. Or my teachers.

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I invented a really great dessert.

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His name is Gepetto. I put some caramel and nutella I had to melt out of the jar on a digestive biscuit and then using whipped cream I created his form. The mohawk is made out of sliced apple. I turned a dessert glass upside down and placed the biscuit on top and added some beautiful eyes. 

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Gepetto is very poor and he can’t have any real children, and even if he could he couldn’t afford to feed them because he makes clocks and puppets for a living. He never aspired to anything more because he was comforted by having little and still being the envy of all the other men in the village. He was single and could pull off the ugliest fucking outfits – or so he thought – cos he had many a one night stand. But no love.

As I said: Gepetto was a clock and puppet maker. No woman over thirty would find that attractive enough to stay with for longer than an hour or two – maybe a night – and in the morning when all he had to feed them was an apple or something, they’d fuck off to perfect fried chicken. (He would’ve been lying, he’d of hidden his good food. Only Gepetto eats Gepetto’s food)

People only want/need so many clocks and creepy puppets in their home. The thing about Gepetto though, is he only wants what he can’t have.

So one night – a blonde, white woman broke into his home and ruined his favourite hand carved puppet by reanimating it (it used to be a tree.) She gave the puppet ONE instruction – and that was to not lie. The puppets name is Pinocchio because wood doesn’t die.

Lying was the puppets only talent in life so that was a cruel irony wasn’t it. 

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In other news I’m going to get this printed and and put it EVERYWHERE