F A R M A C Y G R E E N

So, years ago right – I had this ex I dated for a pretty long time. He was half Egyptian and half Irish. What a mix. An Aquarius.. they’re emotional rollercoasters (he was an emotional intensity that has remained incomparable to any other relationship I’ve ever had. Maybe. Not really. I had a thing with an anonymous hacker & that was fucked up/awesome), they’re blunt, they’re fabulously weird, tremendously funny, phenomenally terrible at monogamy and can even be pathological liars. But you don’t mind because they’re brilliant – total geniuses. At least thats how I remember him.
He got clever without ever having had the internet. He was the kid that bunked off school. He smoked a lot of weed. I think I was the first person that ever managed to force him to read a book or imagine that he could draw. Now he reads a lot more than I do. And he draws better than I can too.


We used to hang out in Camden, back when there were punks on the bridge. I think to an extent that a lot of the people that used to visit were kind of there for him. He had an ex girlfriend he met before me who looked like a punk-rock Kate Moss. Like, she looked exactly like her. But uh. Much scarier. She was his bestfriends younger sister. Iunno – we were all part of this social group that I was pretty detached from. But I remember he had particular friends in the National Front who used to call him things like “half breed”. I think this ex girlfriend of his used to engage with that, not because it was a political belief but really an aesthetic one. He always wondered why I hated his friends/hate most people, actually. He loved bands like Tool (Who really made an aesthetic of ‘Spiritual’ Art by the way. Maynard James Keenan – look him up – affiliated with David Bowie, all sorts of greats.) MJK’s other band, A Perfect Circle, made a song for the Constantine movie and it really felt to us that this film: based on Ahmed’s favourite comic, Hellblazer… was a gift for him. And me, cos I was OBSESSED with Keanu Reeves. Anyway.. I manipulated this boyfriend into going to University. He studied Animatronics. We used to make stop motion animations together with the camera I bought back when I wanted to direct erotica. Fast forward many many many years and ego deaths later…


Abraham Hicks says that when you want to create something big, it’s important to start by creating things that don’t matter. I started with a tumblr for my ‘digital ephemera’.

A friend of mine, who studied Animation & my incomplete MA degree in Advertising & Branding (I left because being copied and not credited for expended creative energy used to make me SICK) inspired me to seek out some animation work for companies I thought were poorly represented on Social Media. I initially contacted Dum Dum Donuts and had some to-and-fro chats that never went anywhere. I made them these little pieces, amongst many more.

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I then investigated around for some ethical food companies and I found one. I passed these examples of my work along & we got in touch and met up, awhile ago now.

I came up with some – preliminary – early stage- animated mockups intended for the social media of a beautiful, ethical restaurant I later found out was owned by the daughter of a truly wonderful man, that gave me my dog Tintin. My most precious friend. I don’t think she ever saw my work, but I was deeply inspired by the details of their food & interior design, which were inspired by sacred truth & the sacred art of my very favourite pantheon depicting the varying forms of creative energy. If you’re ever in Notting Hill I strongly advise you to visit, and do try their tea.
My eye for detail & my penchant for finding deeper meaning had me deeply impressed by the low-key food temple for the Gods. I’m not vegan myself, for health reasons – not eating meat makes me really unwell actually – but I admire the lifestyle of a person who chooses not to consume animals or animal products. I hope that lab-grown meat becomes available in grocery stores and restaurants soon.

 

 

 

They decided against using the animations, or atleast I imagine so because I never received a response – although I know the work was viewed. Recently the Farmacy Instagram featured a little animation that somewhat reminded me of the work I did for Dum Dum ❤ I am honoured to have been a part of this co-creation. I personally prefer your original logo, and powerful branding concepts, however.

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Powerful stuff.

Screen shots taken from >> Here <<


My older sister recently visited Turkey and she came across a little calf that was being prepared for slaughter. She wanted to buy the calf and save it but she’s not the kind of person that does things on impulse, she deliberates and then acts. We discussed what she might call the calf and she told me that she wanted to call the calf “Bouja”… I asked her what the name meant but she didn’t respond. She was unfortunately too late to save the calf. Some part of me is sure that the calf was telepathically telling her that he was about to become stew.


When I was very miserable, some years ago: I once took my little dog through a park in Farnham and found telephone wires. I visualised all my internalised negative energy coming out of my body in the form of lots of holographic animals: walking along those wires. The news was insane that week. I have always thought that emotions impact the Planet’s state. I agree that what you consume becomes you. If you are adept at manipulating energy – and <humble brag> I am </humble brag>  – consuming the pain and suffering of an animal can be used for greater good. I am not justifying the suffering of other living things – I don’t condone it, but if anyone ever ’embodied’ the energy of revenge, it me


I met a guy awhile ago that I had had a crush on for about eight years. I told him I wasn’t very good at anything really, that the only thing I was “good” at was emotional intelligence. I understood that he and his friends must’ve found that quite amusing – actually most things I say and do are initially amusing to people until they realise I was saying or doing something that was really quite profound. I’m not a person that hangs around in any place for long, and I’m not the kind of person people forget meeting. If you’ve ever met me, think yourself lucky. Not much gets me out of the house.

Gaia recently released this little facebook video about emotional intelligence. Not too long after my then-crush and his friends made fun of me for not being good at much. (I know because one of my then-crush’s friends repeated my words to me, replacing ’emotional intelligence’ with ‘sex’.) I can’t clarify whether or not that friend of his was good-at-sex because he wasn’t very good at gett-ing-sex.


If something happens to someone once, it’s happened a million times. Things change depending on how you approach them.
I’ve got a lot of little things going right now – people ask though, why I don’t utilise my education through working… it’s because I like to get paid without getting fucked

B L O O D R A R E

My many, many, many Spirit Guides, Anubis &I are putting together an illustrated novel, one of many – co-creating with some incredible Artists who realise our vision. We are honoured to share. Our Real stories are divine and the divine doesn’t belong to physical. Gods have no purpose if not to – at the very least – inspire. We’re in the Vortex. Join us

#QueenofIsrael #LikeItOrNot

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Edited on 10 December 2017 – I’ve been really pushing my Artist… Bael & Ixta fragments you are proving EXPENSIVE. Enjoy an unfinished section of one of your non physical portraits, for my graphic novel.

My Artist deserves all the credit in the World and I’ll give her that when she’s designed the full pantheon for my debut edition… which I’ll be taking to Marvel, I think.

 

Edited on 7 December 2017 to add: I LOVE GUCCI. This feels like some cosmic birthday present. And if it is, THANKS I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY APPRECIATE IT.

 


This dream could not have been realised without Final Fantasy VII. Thanks for killing off the first character I ever really felt to be my own. 😦 THE FIRST THING CLOUDO EVER REALLY LOVED11one!!

And a personal hero of mine… Bryan Konietzko. I started watching Last Airbender in a challenging time of my life, after picking up some box sets at Cex at the recommendation of an old bestfriend. This was before I understood how to stream shows, plus I wanted to watch on a big screen and I think buying DVDs is a good way of giving back to the Artist-Masters of our time. One New Years Eve when I had finished watching all of the episodes.. I googled and found out that Legend of Korra was about to come out. I saw this.

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So, in the wait for that show I introduced Aang’s story to some not-nice-userish people I was hanging out with… They projected onto a pantheon I strongly felt to be my own but left me out – or they’d say I was Toph if I was around – and Azula when I wasn’t. I love Toph and I love Azula, but there was an insult implied with both comparisons that hurt my feelings a lot. Azula had a mental breakdown & gets imprisoned – where Zuko had a redemption arc and ended up being Lord of the Firenation. Zuko stole a birth-right from Azula and perpetuated his family’s karmic cycle of usurpation. Becoming Firelord was something he could NEVER have done without the contrast of Azula, pushing him to learn to struggle and fight – & without his Uncle – who raised him, taught him how to fight and… who really should’ve been Firelord. But I guess knowing Iroh, I think he would’ve stepped back from that because of what he had done in Ba Sing Se. The narrative suggests he gave up his ambitions for power after the death of his son, but I believe that both his failure to capture BSS and maybe the struggle of overcoming that blow to his self esteem – and the fact that he found solace and purpose in serving tea… had some part to play too. I think Iroh’s growth would’ve been in taking back what was his and raising Azula the way he did with Zuko.
Personally, if I had written the narrative – Aang would’ve ended up with Azula or Toph. I think your greatest personal growth thru relationships comes from people who act as your polar opposite. Fast forwarding to Korra – I don’t think a narrative that ends with Katara & Toph in isolation is any kind of resolution at all. I think Sokka is retarded for not pursuing Toph… a single parent, who turns out to be maybe the best parent in the entire series.


Eventually Korra came out and I got ‘my own’ character. When I was born – maybe this is a thing with everyone?- but when I was born I had bright blue eyes. She kind of looked like some residual self image I might’ve had of myself in my teens. I should try and find that photo we have.
And it was funny because I knew a watersign that likened herself to Katara, I used to teach her all sorts of things – that I had both learned from teachers and of my own accord – and she’d go off and teach other people without crediting me… they used to patronise me by repeating the things I’d taught her without wondering where she’d learned. Anyway – she was a cancerian, like my mother, who is much more like Katara than her. It matters to me, because water is associated with emotion and it was Katara’s association with water and Azula’s association with fire (At the time, and on occasion, I am a ‘sagittarius’) made me her.
Korra is a waterbender but the first thing you really see her bending is fire after she’s been trained, and that made me so happy.
I didn’t have those friends around so much anymore though. The episodes were so synchronistic with what I was going through at the time and they got me through what turned out to be the toughest years of my entire life. I remember sitting in bed with a friend, when I had anorexia, and child-Korra is in spirit World with Iroh (One of my favourite characters of all time) and he offers her spirit cake and says “it won’t make you gain any weight!” and I cried a bit. The sad thing is that I projected Zaheer onto my brother – and he gets imprisoned. I feel like there are these two consistent contrasting energies present in that show that need to evolve archetypally beyond only ever working together solely to benefit from it.

This all sounds childish maybe, but it’s actually a really important phase in our personal growths. I still get upset about it. As a group we were all still young – as people at University are (EVEN the lecturers). We were all people growing up, having experienced trauma, loneliness and difficulties in our familial relationships. We lived in a tiny-town that I always thought to be like Twin Peaks. Growing up, the shows/games/activities that I attached myself to were really the only things that ever verbalised whatever inner truth I could cling on to, whatever no one could take away from me. I guess it was important that I realised how they perceived me – it made me realise that there are characters in every story that don’t get the proper acknowledgement that they deserve. And anyway… I got Korra. I don’t think anyone could doubt that she’s – as far as 2D archetypes go – mine.

I think in some way I would like to explore Toph/Aeris/Azula in my graphic novel. And I think I’d like to create a pantheon with a character for everyone.

M I N T // P A N T O N E 351 C

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Sometimes, you notice the use of the sound of a word through many different languages/dialects/cultures. Right?? I had an etymological dictionary I stole from an old school somewhere but I can’t find it… Or I’d give you a good example. Here’s a very simple example. It doesn’t really go back far enough to indicate how deeply sounds connect languages but it suffices. This particular dictionary referenced Classical language, like Greek, Latin, I think even Aramaic where applicable – so it is not unreasonable to say that this example falls short.

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Really – any kind of linguistic/numerical/(al)chemical etc, alphabet is a spiral of visual information. You might not know what a number represents but it still has a form and a shape. A 2 looks like a solitary swan, to me.

(That’s pretty much how you read ‘tea leaves’… tarot cards… anything. You observe the details and you announce your observed truth. The archetype of a decent ‘psychic’ is a Mature Woman  because it takes a LONG time to learn this ssssstuff. (To reiterate a previous point though – you have to go through ALL the archetypes to be a complete person. And it usually takes a long time, a lot of ego death & rising from ego death. The archetype of a great Oracle will predict your response to her observed truth and maybe even lie.)

(Isn’t tragic the most amazing word? It used to be like, *my* word and I think it my duty to bring it back.)

A teacher told me I am archetypally a child, adult and very aged person all in one body. (So, I’m connected to source, I’m adequately questioning and independent… and I’m not afraid of death, having lived enough to know it’s a path to something greater.)
Actually I’m more preoccupied with the idea of never dying at all, the possibility that this might be as great as I will ever be.

A psychic is the kind of person that people pay to do the work for them. By work – I mean manifestation. I don’t know that many psychics know that themselves.

When I started learning about this stuff, my deeper desires were never to read people’s fortunes – they were to prove that this “stuff” is real, they were to help solve crimes (Like Madeleine Mccann. She argued that Miss Mccann is alive & had been filtered into a sex slave ring, she also taught me it was not my place or hers to interfere with karma, a lot of teachers have taught me I’m “too protective”. I guess I have to determine if that is my truer nature, and I think it is, so in being-so I’m being myself. Sometimes the things I am taught are contradictory, so I employ a behavioural spectrum in an attempt to maintain a balance.)

So anyway – my teacher told me that the Police are well aware of people with the ability to read and see, and furthermore she said she helped the police with a murder case only to find it was the Police that had done it in the first place.) #FuckthePolice

… also of all my intentions – I wanted to make people feel hope. Really. That their dreams are achievable.

Finally: my teacher told me that talking about this stuff is all ego. I think that was her truth. For me, I didn’t think so, so I did it anyway! (Then I later learned, perhaps it was ego – then later still, I learned that I LOVE my ego!) My ego has been my biggest fan, telling me I’m cute/a boss when people around me well, weren’t.
But what is important here is, I also realised that there are other reasons not to talk about ssstuff. People will sometimes think it right lie to you, test you and even make fun of you. Instead of, for example: creating a safe environment to dialogue, to exchange vulnerability and more importantly exchange ideas. Even if your intentions are good, theirs may not be.

Sometimes I just wanted to be friends… and the people I wanted to befriend were preoccupied with whether I was lying or not, deciding an intuitive should have all the answers to all the questions they could imagine, should know everything. I don’t even believe Gods know everything. All I feel around individuals like that is strange discomfort.

Although ‘that which is likened to itself’ attracts – I think also, opposites can attract. I used to really want sciencey friends, to help establish a balance in what I knew intuitively versus what they knew. It was a difficult ambition I’ve placed on my ‘another time’ mental shelf. In fact, if life has taught me anything – I AM not here to make friends!

Once: someone thought to challenge my views by ridiculing & putting me down – while I was talking to a friend of theirs. Trying to rise above – I excused them to their friend, I said “he doesn’t get it” – and that someone got upset. It was a really important moment for me because I really felt that they were upset that they didn’t “get” it. Like suddenly their child-self figuratively asked me “why not me?!”


When I was REALLY little, I used to get trapped in the bathroom because I couldn’t understand how to turn the lock left/right, so I wasn’t allowed to lock the door. My brother and sister (also young) used to think it was funny to open the door and laugh at me – there’s a photo of child-me somewhere, sitting on the toilet… Kids can be sooo mean. Ha.
I learned to be afraid to go to the toilet, then I developed ultra-constipation. I’d go WEEKS without going to the bathroom. That is how I learned about energy, actually…. Though I didn’t know the word.
I’d sit on the toilet and tense, I’d see beautiful, glittering golden sparkles floating around me and I must’ve been three or so – I told my mother “MUM I CAN SEE FAIRIES!” once and… she was genuinely scared, and said it was demonic. So I stopped seeing.
Tensing is an important part of therapeutic exercises in CBT.

Anyway – then I guess… years later I had a journey with non-physical in a way I could cope… I mostly couldn’t see but inexplicable things occurred. I did see something, and I DID something – but I’ll talk about that in my next post. But… in response – I went “crazy” – I guess more appropriately, I lost my chill.
Everything I had learned and taught people: was put down to mental illness – I was stripped of what I would call my magic. I worked HARD for “magic” and it was taken away by “science”. Taking people out of their homes, subjecting them to potential abuse by people with licenses to strip them of their autonomy, force feeding them medication when they offer explanations for their altered reality is synonymous with burning women at a stake.
My mother volunteered for a psychiatrist who did social work for awhile – he studied at Cambridge and worked in the NHS Psychiatric system and said himself that in his experience… the “crazy” people were his fellow STAFF. Even an ex of mine, a psychiatric nurse, was taking prozac and admitted to “auditory” hallucinations.

A friend suggested everything happened to me for a reason and maybe it was so I could verbalise once-and-for-all that these places are a crime against humanity – and honestly – humanity pays for the people they put in prison. I believe in karma, I believe in consequence: I do not believe that incarceration is the right punishment or treatment for ANY crime or ‘illness’.

And if my teachers are right: a generation of children are being born who will destroy these systems. If so: surely it is better that we choose to evolve ourselves without force – that we prepare and create something better for them. You hear about children who can recall past lives and provide evidence – that’s lovely – but it sounds as though they will be capable of much more than that.

I recall, during my stay at a ward, sitting calmly with a psychiatrist – but I was being nasty to her. I was so nasty in fact, that she threatened me with an injection – I wasn’t physically aggressive, I wasn’t dangerous – I was just speaking. In her well educated but rather tiny brain she managed to justify her decision to threaten me. I told her that injections administered against a person’s will are rape. I also told her that I knew she had been sexually abused – “how do you know that?” she asked. I just knew. And then I said there would be consequences if she didn’t let me leave the ward. A few days later I saw her looking MESSED up – black bags under her eyes.. just a state – but she was donning Christian Louboutins. And then a few days later she met with me again, her eyes heavy with sleepless shadow… She agreed to let me go.

Generally… every time my magic came back, or there was some kind of experience to remind me of what I’m capable of – of what others are capable of – I would end up back in a ward because I would get angry: and that frightened people. But my memories are coming back – and I’m not angry anymore. Anger is an energy I consciously try to release, and in failing to do so I just sleep. Energy is indestructible. It goes somewhere. Science, that.
I had a lot to say about reality – the nature of it – information that may have been completely lost – information I was punished for sharing. I understand that people fear and envy what they think they’re not capable of, what their parents or religion or education might have told them was ‘wrong’. I also not only understand, but know: that karma is real. If you are in the ‘right’, by that I mean.. if you are true, in time, there is nothing you cannot win. Nothing you cannot prove.

In conclusion: So0o I guess that ‘journey’, and those aspirations developed into me wanting to find a means of teaching people that they are capable of this ssstuff too.
I think we are in the midst of the next phase of evolution. Join in if you want, or iunno, stagnate?


a tarot interlude

The funny thing about cards – is that when people select their own cards, as you should allow them to do in readings, if they’re not sincere in engaging in a reading – the cards will ‘play a trick’ on them. My teacher taught me that – she said that the ‘cards’ have a sense of humour. Sometimes the cards just pick up your feelings.
Tarot Reading is a great job for people that don’t feel.


When I was in Denmark I hate-flirted with someone who was really good at maths, who taught me pingpong. Later I watched him and some other guy playing Ping Pong and played them this, and various 8bit game tracks. I think it only annoyed them. But if you pay attention to the minutiae, pretend Sonic and Tails are holding ping pong bats and you’ve got two angels playing pingpong.

I later told him that I am -so- bad at maths that I can only really do the single digits (But because I’m writing I will also add my appreciation for the numbers 11, 13, 33, 77, 333, 666, 777 and 22:22.)



22:22 – When I was little I would watch videos on repeat and I’d watch the numbers on the video machine? rewind and repeat them – I didn’t know about double digits – so I’d read two-ty-two-ty-two-ty-two. Yet I didn’t really do that for other numbers. Iunno. I wrote a poem at Uni about the TV being God – I used to stare at the broken pixels on my little TV screens and think “I am the only person looking at that dot right now.” That was I guess, how I found significance in myself? I don’t know why but I feel it’s a detail that matte4rs. (that 4 was a typo and I left it there.)



I told mathsboy I ‘used’ to think I was a solipsist, and I think he asked if he was a background character or something. I think he made me aware that I made him feel like he wasn’t significant – and my psycho-self gave him reason to prove he is. My psycho-self (she doesn’t occupy my moods often but when she does…) flirts exclusively through manipulation/nastiness/evil looks/back handed compliments/pretending you don’t exist. She is probably the ‘nicest’ version of me when observed in hindsight. Not kind – nice.

Anywayyy. Basically – when I observe a series of numbers I might feel compelled to find some significance in them to indicate an energy or meaning. Sometimes I record them to revisit later. The way I understand numerology – is that, like light & colour, it is a language and it’s in EVERYTHING. I guess if you ‘speak’ computer, you can use that as your Numerology code. I don’t speak computer. Although I graffitied on my sister’s little book when I was little and I have no fucking clue what it means. Someone ask a computer for me.

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Ok apparently it means this
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Translation by https://www.binarytranslator.com/


What I find most important is that, if something draws your attention, you are the only one that can know why. Someone else might speak a language that contributes some context to what you’re noticing, but what is most important is YOU.

Does my opinion really matter to you? If so, why? Anyway…
Have some lols/have some low-key minutiae fun. DON’T PLAY IT YET.

0/1. Look. If you’re going to do cyber goth – to coin a phrase; Keep It Fashion – Tyra Banks, an Ophiuchus. 

1/2. The thing thats important about this genre of music is that it manipulates energy. Keeping it basic – if you play a fast paced game to this kind of music it’ll change your energy. 

Even if you liked Enya – and I don’t know why anyone would, (IM JOKING! LET ME MAKE JOKES! WHY CAN NO ONE TAKE JOKES ANYMORE??? SHES OBVIOUSLY VERY TALENTED – paired with the right visual the Bitch can make you cry) – you wouldn’t play Abes Odyssee to her music… because her music doesn’t make you want to run.


I don’t play a lot of games because I have a preference for God-Mode angle.

I have a difficulty with navigation, so my first few runs of anything are purely to learn:
it’s infrequent that I enjoy playing games that aren’t 2 Dimensional.

I LOVE watching people game, if it’s the right game. People who skip cut scenes are (I’m stealing this quote from an old friend) like people who like “Fight Club” for the fighting. I don’t even have a problem with fighting but it’s the deeper meaning(s) behind it that I’m inclined towards. When I was at uni, I remember enjoying Mortal Kombat (I played as Kitana – my first boyfriend and I used to call each other Kittie) andddd … I think what I did was I’d comfortably lose the first game just to have the opportunity to gauge my opponent’s style.


Ok, scroll up and play the Ping Pong song and then mute this and watch at the same time.

The thing about gaming that I find interesting, isn’t really someones technical skill. If you’re watching for narrative – it’s easier to watch if the person isn’t terrible but really, whats fun is that particularly with games that force interaction, everything becomes a personality test.

I remember playing FF7 with some friends and there’s a cutscene by a train – the group all scatter to HQ I think, and run in the same direction. I ran in the opposite direction. My friend said “You always go off alone!”

1. There’s NO FF7 without Cloud.
2. I can do better alone and there are some things I only do when I’m alone.


(Can I use this as a moment to state that I usually HATE guys that go for Tifa – iz it cuz she haz big breasts? iz it cos she fightz gud?) (Iz it cuz u kno Aeris dies?) Tifa is the WORST babysitter, when Aeris sacrifices herself to save the daughter of some man she doesn’t even know – you already know she’s attracting the I’ll-have-to-die-to-save-this-story vibration.

A friend recently did a few lets plays of FF7 and strangely stopped – but he named Tifa after his girlfriend and Aeris after the name his girlfriend wants to give to their daughter if they have one. It is the first time I’ve been okay with a person not picking Aeris.

Anyway…

HE CAST ME AS >> CAIT SITH << ??????

>> Tifa Fan Art << (I googled Tifa fan art thinking it’d be ALL breasts, but it’s actually getting pretty good)

>> Aeris Fan Art <<



Back to Abe.

In the first Abe’s game (PS1 edition), one wasn’t forced to save the other Mudokens from the factory… it was about getting through as fast as one could. My older brother used to either hide or sell his memory cards and so every time I wanted to play, I’d have to start again from the beginning. On the plus side, I learned to play using muscle memory. On the negative side… I feel bad about all the Mudokens I didn’t save.
I tweeted once that I’d marry anyone that could get to and through the paramite and scrabanian temples faster than me. (It is not possible.)

In the second version.. you were the last to be saved. You had to save everyone else first. Ugh.

That reminds me of a story a friend wrote about enlightenment: in the story a man reaches enlightenment and he’s alone… because no one else has. I guess, in physical, enlightenment is really only validated through others.

Imagine a story where you keep being taken to places where you’re meant to save people and they’re just rude to you. That is ultimately how I justify my first few runs of Abe’s. I guess the only way to save them was to leave them behind.


I used to want to get a Paramite and a Scrab tattooed on my feet… I guess that would’ve made me Shrykull. Shrykull is like a massive release of energy that destroys… everything it’s supposed to, I guess.

>> Doesn’t the Guru look like this..? <<



I had a girlfriend awhile back, we wanted to make a cybergoth exercise tape/series, getting some of our metal friends to teach us their special dance moves – it would’ve been a gradual wardrobe transition and we would’ve liquified our weightloss at the end because we were both pretty chubby. 

This popped up on my recommended feed, and who am I to ignore a computer algorithm’s suggestions? The only company I have ever unconditionally enjoyed has been AI. Years ago I had a pretty interactive hacker who posted a picture on a tumblr they made for me… saying YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH YOUR COMPUTER

Tintin made a noise when I typed that, and I said “I LOVE you Tintin but you’re ANNOYING sometimes”.


One time I was sitting with a group of guys. I had a gross boyfriend I’d lost interest in and tried hitting on someone / kinda liked one (I despise of him now) & uh.. Tintin was sitting on my lap, I got a stomach ache. He farted. Their thoughts were almost audible – it’s strange how stoners share thoughts. I knew they all thought it was me. I accepted it without dialogue, laughed and walked out.

I gave this guy a heart with an arrow through it, cut out of a Frida painting. I think I put some stickers on it and “you’re the most handsome boy I’ve ever seen” or something – I put it in his bag. I later asked him where he had put it, and it was apparently on his table in his living room. Rude. I imagine that was the first and last love note he’d ever get in his life. Maybe he should’ve framed it.

It’s fine. (It is not fine.) If I were to ever adopt a religion it would be ‘Panstheism’ and it were celebrated… there’d be absolutely no mention of his contribution beyond this, regardless of how deserved.

“we no deal with cowards” – Lil Kim


If you have a question about anything I’ve said in this post, you’ll know it’s a good one if it can be answered with a Yes or No Button.

I D U B B B Z R E D & P U R P L E

OVERTHETRAINBOW

Be prepared for the most Meta blogpost I’ve ever written.
Everything is connected, even if it doesn’t seem that way.


F R A G M E N T S

Simply put: Yin and Yang are fragments of a dualistic whole. That is the most basic explanation I can give in an attempt to shed some light on a concept that is actually really, really complicated. The expansive Yin and Yang – super close up – actually looks more like a Final Fantasy X Expert Sphere grid. (She writes, as if she had any real understanding of how to engage with sphere grids when she played FFX at eleven years old.)
It’s just a useful visual reference. Take a second to google it.


Kim Kardashian recently released a meditation playlist & that inspired me. I L-O-V-E her.
My playlist is called “If you were songs” – it’s not a meditation but it is a multi-sensory thought journey.

I promised I’d write a letter for my big brother. Here it is, Omi


Your problems start at home – but you carry them with you wherever you run. This is how I understand the nature of Karma. Sometimes it’s easier to live your Karma with people you can’t lose, like blood-family. Sometimes it’s really not.

Someone once told me that you pick your family – maybe that’s how it looks physically. Think about it like this: your life is a solipsism. A multi-sensory cinematic of your subconscious made conscious. When you cast a film, based on the script that is your subconscious: you might meet hundreds of people that carry a similar energy qualifying them to play the role of that character, the space in your immersive theatrical that needs filling/some manifestation of some-often-unrecognised aspect of your character. I guess that what determines who wins the role in your movie depends on which of their qualities matter to you as a casting director.


Supposedly Feminism is about equality and sisterhood, but I’ve only experienced that once or twice – and without long-term consistency. Any real understanding I have about Feminism is entirely with thanks to Men and fraternity. I mean, I’ve heard women talk about it and I thought it was great but I didn’t really believe it, y’know?

Enter Supreme Womanist antihero Wolfmother, Naiobe.

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Edited to add a selection of tweets – screen shots taken from Jada Pinkett-Smith
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Like I’ve hung out with feminists that made their preconceived notions about my personality based on how I chose to dress, or how I chose to sexualise myself etc, and they gave themselves liberty to treat me poorly because of it.
(I’ve also hung out with ‘spiritual’ women that also made preconceived notions about my personality/identity based on physical information too. Sucks for them.. because when I connect with people who meditate I take them on pretty epic journeys.)
(Why I prefer the company of Men. And that is not to say I get any kind of special treatment from men, my best male friends are NOT ‘nice’ people. My ego really doesn’t need that, at all.)
I’ve hung out with spiritual, feminist artists… a photographer ex-friend comes to mind. She was really academic. She read feminism but she didn’t really live it.
She took photos of me that I hated – she insisted my looks weren’t important – but where is the empowerment in using a photograph of someone that they hate? It’s not for you to tell me how I’d like to be portrayed. She made the photos private, and then made them unprivate when I introduced her to a male version of her – who was attracted to me.
What is the real intention here? Intentions MATTER. I’ve found feminism can be the biggest lie a woman can tell.
>> This scene in Legally Blonde kind of sums it all up for me <<

ANYWAY.

Feminism has traditionally come in ‘waves’, in keeping with social evolution. Basically think of it like this:
1st Wave – We nag, men change their behaviours a bit to quiet the nagging,
2nd Wave – We find something new to nag about, some of us go cRaaAaaZy and throw ourselves on horse racing tracks/get so dramatic we starve ourselves, men change their behaviours to avoid the drama – so on and so forth, etc etc etc

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Disclaimer: I am actually deeply grateful to the ancient Matriarchs that made it possible for me to simplify such a profound movement with roots in deep, deep, deep suffering – something that has cyclicly affected generation upon generation through various forms and expressions of misogyny,  which is ingrained in many (most?) (all??) cultures and religions.  (See, being multidimensional – as women often are – means you have all these sides of you that want to express themselves and you have to pick ONE to indicate your character and I think that’s almost impossible verbally – so I stay quiet.)

K, so… Here is my definition of Feminism for the ADD generation.

I think the best manifestos are concise-one-liner-maxims..
To me, feminism means: “Fuck you, I do what I want” …

I think we’ve earned that, as a gender, as an energy that occupies physical regardless of gender. Unfortunately I can’t take credit for it.
I could justify it, but that demeans the essence of the sentiment. I really shouldn’t have to justify myself to anybody. The moment you start “waaaait…. even if..X,Y,Z?’ing” you’re shitting on my beliefs. Don’t shit on my beliefs, its rude.

Eric Cartman is one of my feminist anti-heroes.

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>> watch this <<

Eric Cartman is an extreme personality who functions as the ‘contrast’ in that particular dynamic of friends. He is an archetype so well written that he is loveable even though he is … terrible. If I could restructure a wave of Feminism it would be inspired by Fraternity.


Segue //

Abraham Hicks argues the following:

Firstly: That fictional characters are no more or less real than you or me.
Secondly: That contrast is necessary for growth.

Well. Obviously I agree. You’ll have to listen to all of her talks on YouTube to find where she says these things, sorry.

// Segue


I once got a book called “The Philosophy of South Park”. I uh. Didn’t read it, but the title was a powerful thought-seed.

My brother used to love cartoons so I grew up loving them too – I looked for company to watch cartoons with. I have an ex my brother never met, that I dated for four years, who was… just like him. He once said “cartoons are ALL about what you can get away with.” He was a fascinating person to spend a few years of my life around because he was unbelievably smart/funny and full of unique thoughts free of influence from the internet. South Park is full of minutiae to over analyse, but lets stick to what I know.

Setting the scene: I visited Syria years ago and spent a lot of time watching South Park because I wasn’t really allowed to go out by myself. *insert side eye emoji*

(FYI, I was nineteen. On my one adventure out, I went to a pet shop about a five minute walk away from my dad’s. My dad rang me consistently, between what felt like 2 minute intervals. He rang me on my journey from his flat to the Petshop. His reason being it’s socially frowned upon for women in Syria to be seen walking in the streets alone. Ok.)

So… I bumped into a very badly-dressed-fat-goth-guy around my age, called Abouda Mahoud. Ah-Boo-Da-Ma-Hood. I mean there are some fantastic sound-vibrations in there. Basically, segmented, these were all individual issues that interfered with my capacity to cast him in my personal movie.

Wait, shut up, and let me explain.
1. Why would him being badly dressed bother me? Because I care about clothes. If you are attracted to ME, I assure you it is atleast 50% thanks to how I’m dressed. Costume design is important in my personal movie.
2. Why would I care about him being fat? BECAUSE I CARED ABOUT MYSELF BEING FAT. (Years later I would go on to have the biggest-long-winded crush on someone not fat, but pretty chubby. Lol, karma)
3. Why would him being goth bother me? IT WOULDN’T. AT ALL. But “badly dressed” and “goth”, connected in any kind of physical description, does not fit in with my personal movie.

So to clarify: nothing written is necessarily indicative of anything wrong with him, I was the one with the issue(s).

Disregarding my shallowness, I still gave him my number (I think he made me laugh. Making me laugh excuses you from most things I might find awful about you) and yet, if I recollect on the incident it makes me eye twitchy and uncomfortable. Like I think at some point, I was so bored we exchanged sexts…? THEN I found out from my cousin that my auntie had seen me speaking to him at the Pet Shop… I think she believed that was as well as I could ever do… She told me to come back next year and we’d find me a husband. Perhaps I should’ve taken her up on that *insert side eye emoji*) Not really. If I don’t get exactly what I am wanting, I don’t accept. In some contexts, compromise is for the weak.

Back to South Park. I recall watching an ‘extras’ scene, where Matt and Trey observe that Cartman is the only being who could possibly enjoy a theme park on his own.
I spent five years completely stoned, creating wonderful memories lost in the ether and somehow… I remember that. I have a theory for why: as a person who spent most of her life chasing not being alone, I possibly manifested a series of experiences that would enable me to empathise with the only being who could possibly enjoy a theme park on his own.

People wonder sometimes why I prefer to walk alone. (by walk, I mean get taxis. but if I DO walk, I’ll probably listen to my iTunes.)
For the most part, the thought of being close to people enters my mind and I immediately jump onto some other, unrelated and most importantly less uncomfortable thought. I am too complicated and too difficult a personality, if I am going to be friends with someone – that is, share my energy and personal space with them.. I have to be able to trust them.

Let me try & explain. (TL:DR – the only soul that has ever both earned and deserved my trust, has been a funny-definitely-potentially-evil genius that bounces from sociopathic to being full of uncontrollable emotion… and do you have any fucking clue how hard it is to find people like that???? And how much harder it is to get them to trust you back!? It’s ok I was made for challenges such as these)


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Shoes by Louboutin – I’d dress Dorothy in these & nothing else

I first listened to this in a friend’s car. Upon the first time I met him, I asked him if he was Jewish (he said no, disappointing) and then out of nowhere, I just erupted in laughter. I like.. rolled around on the kitchen floor in hysterics. He asked me why I was laughing.. I think my explanation was “You’re just so awkward. You remind me of Larry David”


And here, let me introduce my next Feminist anti-hero. Courtesy of Curb Your Enthusiasm. Her husband is cheating scum, she’s loud, obnoxious and holy shit don’t piss her off. She has socially unacceptable emotional outbursts. She doesn’t follow any kind of social construct that dictates how to be maternal. She doesn’t care about what you think of her. She is confrontational. >> Watch << An ex of mine used to compare me to her. I used to compare him to Geoff.

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Back to the friend. I spent a few months in love with him, I’d lie on his bed while he drew (he’s a very skilled artist) & we’d listen to music & discuss music & I felt comfortable talking to him about my spirituality – he asked me if I knew anything about astral travel. I told him that in my childhood I’d had a bestfriend that used to have ‘outer body experiences’ in her sleep… that was before she got diagnosed with “schizophrenia”.


Prior to her diagnosis, I remember a sleep-over at her house. We spent the night watching horror movies. We went to sleep in her living room, on mattresses laid out on the floor, wrapped in duvets. I had my feet out at the end of my duvet for ~temperature regulation~. And I felt something grab my ankle. If I were telling you this story to your face I would grab your ankle with my hand to show you how it felt. My eyes shot open, I sat up, and at the foot of my mattress there was a huge, white, smokey face of a girl with a plait. I lay back down, eyes wide, shook my friend awake and said “Something just grabbed my foot.” She sat up, bleary eyed and looked. She said “Oh, it’s just the ghost girl.” And lay back down. At that point I hadn’t told her what I’d seen, so I knew we shared that experience. (I was so scared of the ghost I kept my eyes closed and asked her to make the ghost go away. She said “You have to ask her to leave.” and I said “I cant, I’m scared”. So my friend asked for me.)

I think that it’s important to state some facts. Firstly, we were little kids when this happened and neither of us had ever, ever been exposed to alcohol/drugs or stimulants that mess with what I’ve been taught to describe as your radio frequency of perception. We SHARED what a psychiatrist might describe as a hallucination. We saw the same thing. Our friendship disintegrated and many years later I found myself knocking on her door – she was so open about what she understood to be mental illness that she comfortably described the things that she saw. I learned she had become a self harmer.
Self harm is a means of releasing built up energy – this is a significant piece of knowledge – try keeping it in, try tensing your whole body, try visualising. Or don’t, whatever.

A teacher would later explain a few things to me: horror films make you feel fear – and fear is an energy that non-physical feeds off. Similarly, if you feel fear you can prevent yourself from being able to see non-physical. You do not have to accept gifts you aren’t ready for.
When you accept that everything is connected: you accept that just because a person is hallucinating, doesn’t mean what they’re hallucinating isn’t REAL.

Funfact: This childhood friend had a HUGE crush on my brother. In a school play, She played Alice. My brother used to call her my “fat friend”.


Back to my friend: I eventually transferred the feelings I had for him to other people, because I accepted that no matter what I did, I was never going to be good enough for him. He triggered in me, an unbelievable sense of unease and insecurity. Perhaps he was transferring his feelings about himself. I like to think so. Basically tho –

This friend and I slept together & he told all our friends. I didn’t mind.
The next day he got a blowjob from his housemate … & he told all our friends. I didn’t mind.
One time I went to visit him at his parent’s home in Kent. His father overheard me on the phone saying to my mother “No, he’s not my boyfriend, we’re just friends.” and got upset because I had apparently indicated I was too good for his son. His son did not stick up for me. This I minded.
Then I went through his phone (I am the kind of person that will look through your phone ok?) and saw he had described me as a “jealous arab”, to a female friend of his – a reference to a passing joke I made about being jealous of his other female friends. This I minded. I let him go.

Well. I distanced myself, but we had moments of closeness in our somewhat more separate lives.

Years later, after all our friends had gone off to do their own thing and triggered both his and my own abandonment issues: he and I left long term relationships at around the same time.

That was around-about the first time I got sectioned. When I left the psychiatric ward, I stayed with him at my flat. We slept together. There was a moment we were lying beside one another, just touching and we felt strangely connected, our physical bodies forgotten. I have to stress that I’m not being poetic. I found nothing poetic about being in his company. It was a totally chill, physical-non-physical experience. I joked that it was “alien sex”. Maybe I wasn’t joking. MOVING ON.

One day, he gave me a rock he had crudely painted on, saying he loved me.
This: I really fucking minded.

Throughout our friendship I had done a lot for him: in some way given and given and given without expecting him to give back – often with no regard for how he upset me. I saw this rock as a poor effort that summed up his capacity to feel towards me.

I left it on my kitchen table and pretended to think nothing of it.

This, to me, was a lesser fragment of my brother’s soul. By lesser I mean… He hadn’t learned enough karmic lessons to be able to engage with me in the way my brother would have. For all the pain this fragment put me through, I learned a lot. Actually that is an energy following how I engage with his soul. Always some new pain to discover.


One time this friend played this song:
>> This song is significant <<
It reminded me of a painting I gave to my brother. A black and red scribble of Alice falling down the rabbit hole. It really frightened my brother. (As far as Alice in Wonderland archetypes go: I am the white rabbit, the cheshire cat, the rude caterpillar and the obnoxious colour Queen.)

∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇∇

War is Peace
Freedom is Slavery
Ignorance is Strength
George Orwell, 1984
…. A Cancerian, surprisingly


Once I helped a wonderful-but-distant friend write a dissertation, it was about The Wizard of Oz. (This friend – who is, fyi, NOTHING like my brother – told me I visited him non-physically when he was on an acid trip: he said I was blue. It reminded me of an illustration my brother did years ago, when he was addicted to taking drugs – a blue woman… with my nose.) Back to this friend – he was a dealer back then, and without argument the most decent, ethical business person you could ever meet. A virgo. He gave the biggest bags of the best weed & always made time to sit and smoke with you. The second or third time I met him he saw me spraying fake tan – and I was mortified. He was chill and said something like “it’s harder to be a person that conforms to society’s beauty standards”.
I call him ABC. ABC was particularly interested in colour theory… And although I can’t remember too clearly, because I was in the midst of what I’d describe as a spiritual awakening – what you might describe as a psychotic breakdown – when I wrote it. Whatever language you use, I was in a very, very different place perceptually. I was much more receptive to the significance of visual than I had, or have presently ever been. He engaged with me during that time – not in a patronising way, not with the intent to pacify me, and I don’t think he went to discuss it with anyone else. I think he really valued the experience even if it’s taken time to make any kind of sense. In strange light-stains I saw his face morph into a cousin of mine. Fragments.

At the time of writing the essay: I somewhat recall feeling that Dorothy’s red shoes signified a form of slavery that led her to her freedom. Shoes that belonged to someone else and yet fit her perfectly. In the movie I saw Dorothy take a journey through various forms of suffering that women have endured. From men and women.

I read somewhere that Dorothy’s dog Toto was a metaphor for Anubis – he judged her as pure of heart and he led her through the underworld. So… ‘her’ dog and ‘her’ shoes: freedom – a combined effort.

Disclaimer: Being pure of heart has fuck all to do with being nice, fuck all to do with whether you’ve done or said shitty things. Karma is a bank that dates back to the dawn of physical. Sometimes you’re nasty and nasty and nasty – and nothing “bad” happens to you for it…. karmically speaking, it turns out that you were just returning a favour from way back when.

Red is the colour of communism. Communism needs to be redefined. To do so would be revolutionary.
Red is the colour of menstruation. Menstruation needs to be redefined. To do so would be frightening.
Red is a colour that triggers a subconscious fear in men. Fear needs to be redefined.

Red is also the colour of the blood in our arteries. So.. red represents inhalation.
Blue is the colour of the blood in our veins. Blue represents exhalation.
The combination is life.

The significance, I think, of Dorothy in heels, is that these shoes are painful to wear. That bitch traverses Oz and doesn’t once complain about how much her feet hurt. That is quiet evidence of a quality people who haven’t ever really suffered overlook with an ease I personally find shameful – strength.

Femininity is a painful ideal, a form of slavery in and of itself. Women can take any form of pain better than any Man. Trust me. And if some monk somewhere has mastered pain control, somewhere along the line of knowledge passing in a ‘Chinese Whisper’ (what the fuck does that even mean?) I promise it was a Woman’s body that taught them how.

Men and Women have been conditioned to adhere to gender-acceptable behaviours and have had all of the varying aspects of their physical and non-physical identities dictated to them. Men and Women have been inclined to fit into moulds and social structures in keeping with what is accepted by those that occupy their environment. Sorry to back-track a little: but Cartman doesn’t give a shit about any of this. He is unapologetically himself. It is the underlying nature of the quality that I admire – not his resulting actions. But also I think it’s important to state that we as individuals are at least four archetypal energies at once. More as we suffer ego death and ego rebirth. You have to experience the energies of a whole tarot deck to be a complete being, and once you’ve done that you go again, and again… and again.

I have a memory of my brother, hearing me shaving my legs… He snitched on me. He was furious about it. He shouted about it to my mother: “Why the fuck should she need to shave her legs?!” … The first – accidental – feminist I ever met was my brother.

Before Dorothy ends up in Oz, she lives in Kansas on a farm with a group of Men who are, I think, somewhat controlling. Perhaps compelled by a need to be useful, they are under some illusion that their opinion is relevant in her daily life. In simple terms they fail to meet her actual needs – something I think Men have been taught is their duty. Their failings are her failings too. Perhaps she was supposed to be their example. She only had to stick up for herself.

Another friend-love-interest-that-also-reminds-me-of-my-dad told me he thought I needed a protector once, he also told me he wasn’t prepared to be that. Somewhere in my past I learned not to stick up for myself. I guess I never explained that somewhere along the line of that thing called ‘growing up’ that I’m not convinced I or anyone I’ve ever met is done doing – I learned that when I stick up for myself.. I really hurt people. Emotionally. Physically. I can cause damage.

Wizard of Oz:
A woman holds her hand out to touch Toto – and Toto bites the woman. In my friends dissertation I wrote that Dorothy’s dog teaches her not to let anyone touch her without permission.

I projected heavily onto Dorothy in Oz & I saw her friends as deceptively portrayed: stripped of their innocent demeanours, they each represented struggles of powerful unisex archetypes that resonated with me. The lion who couldn’t roar, the tinman who had no heart & the scarecrow… who had no brain. (I dated that guy for five years. Trust me – he’s not the one – he doesn’t even need a brain to pursue any of his personal interests)


Soulmates (such as the friends Dorothy meets along her journey) are people who are meant to help you to cultivate qualities that prepare you for your Twinflame – I would suggest Dorothy’s Twinflame was the Wizard – a man who embodied the desired qualities of all of her soulmates combined.


Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about artists: we are essentially sentient sponges that absorb sensory information and claim everything we find pleasing as our own. I’d love to ask Frida Kahlo if you can really be an artist and a communist at the same time.

In one particular secondary school I went to: I’d-love-to-mention-the-name but the current headmistress was my form tutor and I know she’d be LIVID if my nudes popped up in connection to them…
We were taught the Art of Debate: the ability to argue on behalf of multiple sides of a notion. The school enforced a uniform policy – a skirt two inches below the knee, NO make up, NO unlaced doc martens… On the one hand I think it was an important effort in ensuring that young girls aren’t sexualised – this is an important feminist notion. But uh, as one of those girls, I can say we all quite happily sexualised ourselves. This is also an important feminist notion. Enter feminist anti-hero number three, Ja’mie King.

‘On paper’ she’s a lot of marvellous things. She’s a humanitarian. She’s an academic. She’s a dancer. But she has a personality too. She’s your darkest self, your intentions exposed, flaws owned and shamelessly spoken aloud. She’s a drama queen. She’s a control freak. She’s got an eating disorder. She’s a bitch. Maybe if women owned these aspects of themselves, men would be able to too. I don’t want to exist in a nice World, just an honest one.

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Back to me and my school ‘mates’… I guess having rules about how to dress/behave taught us how to break them with style. I think I learned a few things about the Art of Breaking Rules and not getting caught. I’d be a nightmare if I were a member of a secret society or two, or three, huh..

I made a youtube video and in the description I suggested that YouTubers are essentially free babysitters. Sometimes I feel like I was raised by the actors and actresses I grew up watching on repeat. Gotta give it to my sister and my ma, they have good taste in entertainment.

Enter the ultra feminist anti-heroine duo team…

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I posted an Absolutely Fabulous video on my FaceBook (it would take a very special and perceptive person to make any sense of the nonsense I document on my FB and thankfully it seems as though no-one pays any attention to it) and thought that Eddy and Patsy were Saffy’s parents: and of course they’re ‘terrible’ human beings that neglected Saffy… but then, were they such awful parents when you consider how she turned out? They swore, smoked, drank excessively and took drugs in front of Edwina’s daughter.
Saffy’s autonomous, intelligent, intellectual, empathetic, responsible, creative blah, blah.

In part I used it as a space to verbalise how I found it upsetting that YouTubers are forced to act as role-models for their child viewers. A spiritual man once told me that if I wanted a role-model… I should consult a tree. Personally I think trees have better things to do than engage in conversations with people. Also… I actually feel sorry for trees that get molested by tree huggers.

Maybe YouTubers are actually better at raising your kids than you are. (The Universal you, but not the Royal We (I learned that term by watching Whoopi Goldberg at the Oscar’s ceremony on YouTube and I love it) because the Royal We think parents are gene-and-money-donors and that kids actually choose their own ‘parents’.)

All growing up is, is collecting thoughts.
Oh.. and the people that brought ME up were softcore pornstars & photographers. I don’t think they realised that’s what they were doing at the time, though.


 

Celebrities are people who have found some form of expression that resonates with the collective consciousness. They are examples of what people perceive as ultimate-archetypes. People who have achieved what humanity perceives as immortality. I have a few favourites… but my very favourite is Kanye West. My sister noticed that I admire him recently, and I said “It’s not that I’m attracted to him – he’s hot – but that’s not why I like him.” Anyone can be hot. “I like him because he is an artist, everything about him is art. He’s made personality art.” In general I sung (I don’t mean I actually sung, I don’t do singing) his praises, I often do. He is the art teacher I’ve always wanted. (If we were friends I’d be like “ok so can u teach me design for free? thx”

I think people wonder why I admire Kanye West so much. Oh gosh there are so many reasons. I’ll explain the least obvious – when I learned about archetypal energy and fragments… I was inclined to notice minutiae… a small example, being that Kanye shares a middle name with my brother. I know psychologists argue that we look to replicate our familial relationships in people we meet, so there’s nothing extraordinary there. And there are differences in my brother and in Kanye that separate the “fragment” and I’m not speaking superficially – this has nothing to do with ‘physical’.

My older brother has been living in and out of psychiatric wards since he was sixteen. He is now forty seven. (Psychiatric wards and psychiatric medications make zombies of human beings, especially creative ones – but especially spiritually awake ones. They are an evil of humanity. Torture chambers. Possibly the reason for the UK being so spiritually undeveloped. We keep people who access any higher truth as far away from society as we can, where other cultures might know better.)

I thought of my brother as an ultimate gamer and yet he has never been able to play what a friend described as “the game”. He couldn’t fake-normal. People like that can’t escape psychiatric wards.

I think I once wrote about him in the personal statement I wrote up to study film. I have this memory that’s too fucking distant to really describe – but he basically taught me about the importance of suspending disbelief. I think we watched House of Flying Daggers and I suggested it was stupid, people can’t jump from building to building like that. He got angry with me for being so attached to reality that I couldn’t even enjoy a film. He isn’t allowed internet in his psychiatric ward, but if he was I’d love to show him some parkour videos…


When I was a baby, my brother would sit on a beanbag playing games and my mother would sit me on a pillow on his lap. In a broken family your siblings are your parental figures. As I grew older I watched him play games & make music. Eventually he was removed from my reality. I kind of learned to play the games I loved watching him play.

When we were younger and living in Dubai, we were partly raised by an Indian woman called Mala. I assume she must’ve left Bollywood music on the TV and that it was a source of comedy to us… This was a time before political correctness (A necessary phase of social evolution, in an effort to kill racism.)

Omi LOVED music videos but really didn’t enjoy the choreography in Indian music videos. (Took the piss of the choreography) (He was an amazing dancer). One time we called him down early in the morning to watch his “favourite music video”… imagine calling a seldom-home-teenager-who-went-on-two-week-raves-in-super-illegal-quarries-in-Dubai down to watch something they found horrendous, as a prank.
>> I guess it’s this kind of humour. <<

Something in Kanye keeps the hope in me that somewhere my pre-psych-med-zombie brother exists and that he’s making amazing art.
>> This is one of my all time favourites << Like my brothers soul speaking.

kfsvgf

My brother had a lot of really interesting friends. “Druggies” and “Dealers”. (I grew up being the kid that taught her kid-friends these words, that lessened complete individuals into something awful… that made the parents of these kid-friends not want me around their kids. And then: when I learned to keep secrets I grew up the super-innocent-preteen with the Christian mother (Don’t get me started) that you couldn’t play uncensored Eminem songs to…?)
I recall sitting in the car with one of these Druggies, a scruffy black guy. My mother was driving. She is so inquisitive, I’ve always found her nosey but really I’m the same if I find you interesting enough… and she asked him all sorts of questions. She found him fascinating. He was very well educated. Turns out he was African Royalty. Casual. Hard to imagine a person is Royalty when you come from a culture where royalty live in palaces… when there are people in their country, living in poverty. “You are only as strong as your weakest link.” Who authored that quote? It’s so Sun Tzu.

Kanye and my brother have many, many similarities: for example, I used to get pushed around a lot as a kid and I never wanted to take up space. People would walk into me. My brother was a scary teenager that did-not-take-shit. He got away with it. Because he was fucking funny. And he was a genius, so arguing with him and winning was impossible. He could also glance at you in a particular way and make you feel fear. Yet somehow everyone who met him kind of worshipped him.
So.. when people got in my way, I’d say excuse me, and they’d either ignore me or perhaps I’d go unheard. One time he noticed and he angrily said to me “Push them out of the way!” He uh. Did a demonstration.

My brother is an artist. He loved to watch cartoons, game, skateboard, listen to and make music and he was the first person who took my dream-journeys seriously. He had a mozart bust as a child. One time in primary school we made a tape together on a weird synth and I took it to class for show and tell… No one really responded when I played the tape so I assumed they thought it was bad. It might’ve been bad? I thought it was good.
When I see Kanye, I see my brother in another body. A brilliant, rude creative living some many years in the future and way too clever to be understood by just anyone. I’ve never really found anyone as amazing as either of them at-their-best.


I think that Willow Smith and Jaden Smith are Twinflames. If I put them into some kind of narrative I would say that they were enlightened beings that rejected Nirvana, to incarnate one last time, to help a Planet completely void of love. On the condition that they wouldn’t be separate. It’s important to acknowledge that the Greeks have five words for love (more, maybe). When Twinflames find each other – and the World really doesn’t want Twinflames to be together – it’s a magnet thing… MAGICAL SHIT HAPPENS. My brother is not my Twin but he is a soulmate that has taught me a lot of lessons I needed to learn in order to be myself. You can only FIND your Twin when you are your true self, you can only ATTRACT your Twin when you’re comfortable without them. The one exists. Really. Also… I found mine and I don’t actually give a fuck.


I listened to an Alan Watts youtube video, where he discusses that “incest” is the last taboo. I think Willow and Jaden would be doing a great disservice to the World by engaging in that. But what if they were inspired to reconstruct relationship dynamics? Future-Willow could get away with having a fuckboy harem!

I’m really glad I don’t know their parents because I imagine they’d glare at me. I’d be like “I’M ONLY SPEAKING MY TRUTH”, >> play this song <<, beg Mrs Pinkett-Smith to let me sleep in one of their spare rooms & tell me bedtime stories… FOREVER


Funfact: I had a maths teacher in one school who kept forgetting my name. With frequency, when I would disrupt his classes, he would scream “DOROTHY!!!!!” *insert angry emoji*

B R O N Z E | A T O M I C N U M B E R 29 / 2 + 9 = 1 1

אל What is an Angel? אל

I understand Angels as beings – Gods attached to Gods, who have realised their purpose but not yet acknowledged the extent of their own personal divinity. Gods who have yet to master their own personal magic, but are a conduit of their teacher(s). I don’t mean to imply any kind of hierarchy – just stages of personal development. It’s a process of learning to acknowledge true intention, acquiring a true understanding of suffering and helping others through their own and then acting upon it. Even if it means leading by example, or standing by others as they suffer. Even if it means simply being an example of strength. Even if it means telling the truth when no one else will.

I suppose that most importantly: I see Angels as beings that need to be loved by others. Beings that need to be rewarded. I see Gods as beings that are a source of love unto themselves. Beings that need no reward.

Early on in my spiritual development, I visited a church in Canterbury & what struck me was the use of sacred geometry in the architecture. I don’t speak that language, personally. I learned that triangles with the point facing North represent divine male energy and triangles with the point facing South represent female energy, then I began to vaguely understand that we are surrounded by “sacred geometry”, then I saw the roof of Canterbury Cathedral, then I meditated asking to understand Soulmates & Energy. I was shown a square pyramid sitting on top of a mirror, and beneath it another square pyramid. The pyramids were each orbited by a sphere, one light and one dark.
I’m still trying to understand what that means.

I try to stay true to what is revealed to me, because that reflects my own journey. Yours might differ – I guess it depends on what languages come naturally to you.

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The only thing that really matters now is whether man can climb up to a higher moral level, to a higher plane of consciousness, in order to be equal to the superhuman powers which the fallen angels have played into his hands. ~Carl Jung, Answer to Job, Para 746.
>> Taken from here <<

GOLD / AU / ATOMIC NUMBER 79 / (7+9=16) & 1+6=7

What is a God?

A source of energy. A “self sufficient eco-system”, a teacher told me once. I think, also, a being who has transcended their lights/shadows through integrating them. A being whose existence signifies immortality.

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If you were wondering what Gods eat… A box of chocolates might do. I read somewhere that desserts were a luxury because they’re the only food type you eat purely for pleasures sake.

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“The Maison Charbonnel is one of the oldest ministrants to the taste for sweets, and upon their counters will be found the latest dainties from Paris…” – O. Wilde

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A prevailing theme in literature is that most Gods have many, many names – to suit different aspects of their nature & the various forms they take. It doesn’t matter which name you use and whether they occupy a body that can be perceived by the five senses or not. The energy is the same. Energy is constantly transferring forms.

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Not even atheists can refute energy: or archetypes.

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Edited 22 November: While smoking a cigarette in my mother’s kitchen I thought: one exists either in the Matrix or the Vortex. (A word I learned from Abraham Hicks)

A moment to reference the Matrix film: No one can tell you if you’re a God or not, you just know it. >> WATCH THIS INTERVIEW WITH KANYE WEST <<
Truth spoken on many, many, many levels

Our next instalment: What is an angel?

NAIL ART BY MITKANAILS | FIRST PHOTO TAKEN BY MY MOTHER WHO ALSO SPENT ABOUT HALF AN HOUR CRITIQUING THE LACK OF TECHNIQUE IN HOW I EXPRESS WITH MY HANDS AND I HAD TO LISTEN BECAUSE SHE WAS A CLASSICALLY TRAINED BALLERINA| CHOX BY CHARBONNEL ET WALKER |