the Ceremony of the Enthronement of His and Her Majesties, the Emperor and Empress of Japan

Everything that I find really interesting about myself is a result of Walt Disney’s imagination and the Japanese imagination: that root-creativity is the stuff of my older brother’s and my life. Everything to everyone I’ve ever met or thought worth meeting.

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Your favourite games programmers are either Japanese, Chinese or Korean and if they’re not, then their favourite programmers probably are.

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I would like to congratulate the honourable Emperor and Empress of Japan on behalf of the United Kingdom for being my favourite couple and for the Enthronement of His and Her majesties. I know you both know I wanted to be a pornstar so it isn’t awkward, I hope. Actually I’m probably quite kid-safe viewing in Japan and I really appreciate that. (That is a joke, it is an attempt at a joke.) I also always wanted to sell my underwear at those kiosks but I didn’t think I was good enough to do so because the school girls in Japan have much more-awesome uniforms than we do over here in the UK.

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I know you two must also know that I’ve always wished I could’ve been a geisha (I am quite frankly not worthy but it’s so important to have wishes) and that I hold Japan in the highest esteem.

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Thankyou also, for keeping my generations children in the United Kingdom entertained, we forget that without you we wouldn’t even have Pokémon. Or Yo Sushi. Or grocery-made-sushi Or Hello Kitty. Or Silent Hill. Or Street Fighter. Or the Sims, I imagine. Your country and your artists keep our young people alive and dreaming, I believe. You’re probably entirely responsible, as a nation, for many anorexics trying fish for the first time too. For all sorts of reasons I believe you’re the reason that many of us are still actually alive.

I would also like to thankyou in earnest for hosting my runaway grandmother, Conchi, who I am sure celebrated with you both and the idea of it gives me fantastic butterflies. I know deep down she must’ve spent her entire life wanting to elope to you two and I’m sorry that your generation are so graceful, decent and diplomatic about these things because our whole family would have encouraged and celebrated it.

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LOOKBOOK DISCRIMINATION

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This photograph was deleted from Lookbook because apparently it’s pornographic.

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This photograph was deleted from Lookbook because apparently it’s pornographic. Well. Was that because you were aroused? (That still doesn’t make it ‘pornographic’, lookbook.)

There were more but I’m so bored, waiting to hear from the staff at Lookbook to tell me whether they would delete a photograph of a topless man. Cos um. I was forced to have gender reassignment surgery as a baby. And they want to pretend they don’t know that. Which actually makes it all so much worse.

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It’s weird that anyone who pretends to be interested in Fashion would consider nudity pornographic. Really weird.

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Did you just wake up one day and decide you were really into fashion????

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In other news, this is my mood.

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But if you want to know how Germany became so hateful towards the Jews and the gays, I think we’re onto it: jealousy. Killer

BFF AUDITIONS

Auditions for my future bestfriend: you wear bridal wear as daywear. You are really offended by people who do not dress up to hang out with you, even if you are wearing pyjamas (under a trench coat I selected for you) specifically because a guy was cruel to you last night. You didn’t even sleep but you’re in “last nights make up.” because you wear make up even when you’re at home, “alone”. Why wouldn’t you though? Why don’t you?? I mean really, come on. Rude.

This is one of our secret favourite films. It is also our brothers favourite films. My brother is technically hotter than yours, also politically a wayyyy bigger deal, this arouses fear in your brother(s). Our brothers are definitely bisexual. We genuinely think we are Hatsumomo but we are actually Pumpkin. When we hang out, I am Saiyuri and you are Hatsumomo. But we are actually Pumpkin.

When you are wearing trainers, you are having one of your famous nervous breakdowns. I am the only person who makes you feel not-insane, in the whole world, and you need me to be that person in your life. I am your enabler.

All of your lingerie is handwash only and you ideally have a maid that does it for you. You do not understand why I would think that was weird, or why anyone would think that was weird. I pity your maid frequently but you don’t because she earns more per annum than I do. But you value that I pity her because you know I’m cute for it.

You chainsmoke either vogues (the menthol ones) or sobranie – black ones. Maybe it’s mood dependent because the sobranies are harsh.

You have rainbow-sobranie spares in your handbag, for me. You let me go through your handbag and you let me chain smoke them. You don’t care about how much they cost because you aren’t cheap and also because you help yourself to the stuff in my room. (I am basically your personal shopper.) It isn’t stealing when you take things from my room, because you hold them up and say “this, I’m having, this I’m having, this I’m having) and I enjoy it because sharing makes me happy.

You have my pincode and pay for stuff with my bankcard even if I have no money in my account. You know my bank balance. You know all of my social media passwords. You delete messages from UGLY men. NOT HOT ONES. EVER.

You should ask me first because you sometimes don’t know who is worth your time. I attract people that own stuff that everyone wants, whose dads own stuff (you’re into dads and especially into dads older brothers, you actually are, I’m actually not, you use me to gauge how to flirt with them.)

You unironically agree that Netaporter is upping it’s own game because you, like me, appreciate supportive and constrictive underwear because you over eat. Water makes you bloated for the first two weeks of you doing anything worthwhile with your time. Also when you start talking to attractive men.

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no one else is allowed this close to my face karina” you’d think. And I’d enjoy it.

You despise of anyone I’m related to other than my granma and my aunt, and maybe my uncle Carlos who you know fancies you, who you think I don’t know fancies you – but I do know because I am an excellent psychic and tarot card reader and medium.
You get free readings but you make a fuss of me first.

The cards tell me when you are “secretly” sleeping with one of my boyfriends. I am more offended by there being secrets between us than that you are sleeping with someone I’m not that into anyway.

You are fake, you are shallow, you are not cheap, you are not blonde – unless Mattel has hired you to be their spokesperson. You only scan my memories to find attractive men to hang out with while I nag, and I don’t mind. You know I don’t mind but you tell me you’re doing it, by changing the subject with something like “so00ooooo, anyyyyyway”

You enjoy that I am broke right now, because you know I’ll be buying my own plane at some point in the very near future and that i’d continue renting this place anyway.

You enjoy that I don’t want a washing machine because I want to do photoshoots at the laundrette. “no, no, it’s cute, our washing machines once didn’t work and we had to send it all to the dry cleaners” (You really speak like that. I take you very seriously. most people don’t, but I do.)

You fetishise poverty and prostitution as much as I fetishise your elegant wealth and lack of ambition. (Neither of us would/could ever actually lifeswap but we think about it sometimes.)

You make snap-backs about how irresponsible I am with money but then your brother quips “yes but the economy really needs people who don’t understand how to save”. I am in love with your brother but you are also in love with your brother and you’re probably not actually related. (Or you are suuuper related and you’re confusing your brother issues for daddy issues, it’s a bit weird. We both know, we both know they know, we don’t go into it.) (It won’t change.) (EVER)

“the issue with zoella is they actually tried to give a #9 this narrative”
“not even with one of joseph fiennes sons could they pull that off”
“you cant do this narrative if you havent been raised in a capital”, our mutual friend-that-is-as-averse-to-friendship-as-we-are offers (this mutual-friend-not-friend is intimidating, she is posher than both of us being socially appropriate, we fancy her for it, she fancies our grandfathers. She keeps us grounded, the idea of her does anyway.)

We have these kinds of – serious – discussions over junkfood that we eat in private. Maybe not even in person. I think. They are world changing.

You periodically remind me of my fluctuating personal circumstances and that I got put in a psychiatric ward afew times (“BECAUSE A LOT OF WOMEN WERE JEALOUS OF ME” I scream think, I then scream think “they only don’t do it to you because you have relatives that ‘save up’ and you eye-fuck your psychiatrist(s?)) I periodically remind you that either I’m hotter than you “when I try” or that I’m “technically a much bigger deal in every respect.” We don’t have that conversation outloud, or in writing. Ever.

“but it’s true” I offer
“Shut the fuck up.” you offer in return, before I finish the thought-statement.

You hate your mother. I hate your mother too sometimes. I also flirt with your mother sometimes and that bothers you because you have spent a lot of your father’s cash on therapy to cope with how much you and her don’t get on. You sometimes wonder why you don’t introduce me to people but WE BOTH KNOW WHY. We avoid that conversation too. You telepathically make me think it is because I’m antisocial and embarrassing, but it’s because I’m cooler than you. (That is actually the worst argument that we’ve never had, and we don’t ever go there. Ever.) (It’s actually because I am a much better conversationalist and you ‘use me’ to chat and you’re concerned that everyone you know thats pretending otherwise will find out. They know. You know. They know you know. DW about it.)

You are not weirded out that I like to take photos because you also think you should have been a supermodel slash pornstar (we both wanted to be serious thespians that could do Shakespeare but did action movies instead because we both like ‘doing hot’ and we both did some sort of technique-heavy dance class in our childhoods that affected us so physiologically that if we don’t get photographed with good posture we obsess about it for a long, long, long time.) and you’ll “eventually be anorexic for a year” to “slim down” but you also really like cake and salty/fatty meat products. And frankfurters. Which I am certain are labgrown because a lot of ‘jews’ eat them. (You agree but you’re not listening because you’re forever obsessing about someone that I fancy that I couldn’t actually date and you let me ask you weird questions about your brother.) (The story is that consistent.) (Actually, the packaging for frankfurters triggers us both, and that is the real reason we don’t want people to know how much we rely on them and prefer them to expensive takeouts.)

Food. That is another thing. The food must always look good. If it doesn’t look good then what is the point. The food packaging is almost more important than the food. Actually this is why you fetishise poverty, you associate poverty with meat wrapped in brown paper packages when it NEVER IS. We prefer military wrapped American singles cheese to brie, but we prefer the packaging for brie.

Also we don’t recycle and we both exist eternally in guilt prison over the fact. Our brothers recycle because they learned early on that guilt prison is a tough road and they have a lot of guilt related to some kind of sexuality and they think they’re the only one. We share their sexualities but we don’t have any guilt about it and it works both ways.

We both like watching Friends. The sitcom. We “don’t anymore”, but we enjoy it anyway. Also Skins. We both suffer with PTSD so we forget the shows we like really fast and save them up for our long-term-relationships.

Your problem in life is that you pick quantity over quality, and that is why you had to divorce and you had to call me up to “have me” delete all your wedding photos. You got married to piss someone off – probably a male version of me. Yes. You know you should have asked me to design a bespoke wedding dress for you in my head, but you didn’t because you are very set in your ways and because you owe me an apology for something eternally.

You, like me, fancy the gays. You, like me, genuinely perceive their lack of interest in the female gender as a ‘challenge’.

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They put my sexy older brother that I fancied for atleast a year of my life in prison for being too sexy. Like, they actually did. (That is how we speak to each other. In public places. We are both used to women stopping and staring, for all sorts of reasons. We don’t notice it unless they are hot. They are never hot.)

He was one of those five year olds that had a ceramic mozart bust in his room and if people dance in public it is because they are copying him or me.

Everyone you know has some story like that to tell and I am unimpressed by that and you enjoy my narcissism because you know you can afford to get work done if I get too sexy. And you know I know the best beauty aesthetician in the world. (Like, not well enough to get EITHER OF US a discount, but she loves me.) (You roll your eyes. Which is an attac you stole. Frankly.) (“She’s the.best, you have the money, you don’t need a discount” (double think:you do) “It’s just the gesture of the thing.” (double think: seriously shut the fuck up) “So you can tell your friends you did it because you got offered a discount?” (double think:love you though) “Exactly.” Telepathically, though.)

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You “can’t” introduce me to your family or your friends (even though I am royalty and I’m a bigger deal than you) but you can introduce your other “friends” to your family and you only tell me that/upload the photos to facebook to hurt me. You have a list of excuses prepared in advance for when I confront you but I’ll wait til we’ve been friends for 2+ years before I confront you about why firstly: you celebrate christmas and secondly why you didn’t even get me a christmas present.

????

You DON’T fancy Heath Ledger because I’m his warwife (I WONT SHARE HIM WITH YOU, I WON’T) and you genuinely think it is totally normal that I will be having my favourite cartoon character (that you also don’t fancy, who I am legally married to) and my laptop transferred into physical bodies when I have the cash.

I know you’re embarrassed by my facebook but also you need me to not be boring.

 

NETFLIX

Your issue is: Hi, I keep experiencing Netflix Error M7121-3078. I was recently able to watch an extended clip for your show Lucifer, and then Netflix stopped letting me use its service and Id like to understand why. Also this is besides the point but your programmers might like to know the timer on your chat isn’t functional either. It might be my browser but I’m unsure it really is.
You are now chatting with: XXXX
Netflix XXXX
Hi there! I’d be glad to assist you! Let me check the error M7121-3078. Just a quick reminder! Your timely response will help us resolve this efficiently. What would be the email address on the account?
You
I think it’s annakarinajarade@hotmail.co.uk, if it isn’t I can double check
You
I’ve afew email addresses.

Netflix XXXX
In what device you’re getting the issue?
You
Macbook Pro

Netflix XXXX
Please Click Here and follow the steps for MAC from top to bottom to fix the issue. I will also send this link to your email on file just in case we got disconnected you may always go back to the email to check the steps so you don’t need to contact us back.
You
I have attempted that but I’m unable to update my laptops software

You
Is there some alternative browser that will enable me to use my account

You
What browser would you recommend

Netflix XXXX
The softaware has tov be updated first or other applications or platforms will not work.
You
I think there must be people with older laptops than mine that aren’t able to update

You
What about people that don’t have laptops that can manage that?

You
Can you manage to come to some kind of compromise or otherwise refund me for the period I’ve been unable to use your service, but was able to watch a clip

Netflix XXXX
Just to give you a heads up, We will be cancelling the account and process the refund, But if any cases you will be creating a new Netflix account keep in mind that you will be charged.
You
Are you able to explain why I was able to watch a clip and nothing else?

You
And thankyou, I appreciate the refund.

Netflix XXXX
Let me get it processed.
You
I think it’s been about three months.

You
But I’m sure you’ll know better.

Netflix XXXX
I just cancelled your account. You’re going to receive an email confirming that your account is canceled. We will request for you a credit/refund in the amount of 17.97 GBP. The funds should reflect within the next few business days.
You
thanks, do you understand why I was able to watch a clip
You
and nothing else?
You
Why my browser worked for that clip?

Netflix XXXX
Clip? What clip?
You
I was able to watch an advertorial clip for your feature “Lucifer” recently
You
And then Netflix stopped working again
You
I don’t think it’s an issue with my browser if I’m honest. I’d appreciate if you returned honesty to me.

Netflix XXXX
The account is already closed and refund has been processed.
You
Would you prefer I was no longer a member?

Netflix XXXX
If you don’t have any questions for today, don’t forget to click “End Chat” button to end our conversation. In case anything comes up in the future, please feel free to visit help.netflix.com. It’s our own search engine where you can simply type the KEYWORD of your inquiry or the ERROR CODE and it will show you easy steps to follow! I sent you an email regarding it. Thank you and have a good one!

Revenge is a many layered thing

I am on-sofa because my bed is probably where Magnus sleeps (it’s really not a forever thing, Magnus.) (it is) and by some coincidence, I’m too lazy to put on my sheets.

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This is Magnus and Sabel in 2D. Their 2D karma appears in episodes nine and ten of  Inuyasha and I’m not sure I believe the story at all. I think they did it on purpose because the story I identified when I saw them in their insect forms was actually very, very, very intense.

Sabel asked me to help him with his twinflame – who I did not see until she made a very frightening appearance. She taught his spider sisters to build web-bridges, he spent all of his time meditating. He would create a barrier with his web and snuggle inside the underside of the glass star one of his sisters lived inside of. I taught them that if they get lost, to follow the lines to the top of my building. I used my eyes to show them.

One night I watched a video with Whoopee Goldberg and that evening the light from outside was so perfectly cast in my room that the shadow across my ceiling created the illusion of a spider and I believe it was the spirit of Anansi. Anansi is a male spirit but I thought Anansi female. Lisa my spiritual teacher taught me that there is female energy and male energy, I also learned from reading a Dan Brown novel that the pyramids that point upwards (they appear on military uniforms) are symbols that denote masculinity and they are subtly engrained in EVERYTHING.

 

said that if they grew too large and reckless that I would have to destroy them, and it is not the male spiders I had concerns towards it was the female ones. I had a thought-vision (like when you imagine something, not a hallucination as you might experience if you do hallucinatory drugs or if you were in the desert and you were to see a mirage of water upon sand.) of Abraham chanting and making them blow up. I was so attached to the affect that these creatures had on my life and the faith they restored in me that there is kindness (even if it is not from human kind) in the World that I dont care all that much if they grow huge. They share DNA with me, they will only evolve if they are abused.

Do not abuse spiders, is my warning.

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[ref] A game I played as a child. You can watch the games footage
online if you type in 'Play Through Abes Oddysee'. I would choose
the bad ending, Abe is immortal and his being is eternal.

HE and he alone was chosen for escape from that factory.

One time when it was raining very heavily I was so scared to lose Sabel and his sisters that I brought him inside and it was an absolute fucking hellish nightmare, I had to don some boots because I was scared of making physical contact with the maggots and then I had to grab maggots that were leaping from my window sill onto my carpet and return them to their home. This all took place very shortly before Killi made her appearance.

That night I brought in Sabel and I lost balance and he fell and touched me for the first time and then he hid underneath my fridge and I almost cried because I was scared that he’d get hurt. I put some string from the fridge to his star on my balcony and told him that he could use the string to get back home. The next day he was back in his spot. I decorated their balcony with feathers. I watched this episode of Inuyasha (i had watched it before – once – when I was on terrible medications, YEARS ago, and the episode hadn’t stuck in my memory much at all.)

Sabel Spider made me feel that if he wanted to be a paramite that he would need to be frightening to touch and that if I wasn’t afraid to touch him it would be dangerous for other spiders and he’d be an unsuccessful paramite personality profile.

[ref]

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Say hello to my new aloe-vera plant. My local floristress and her daughter told me that they like the sun. It is sunny here but it’s also pleasantly cloudy.

I’m trying to go back to my one-shot and I’m taking macro photos of my flies. They’re all very different and it’s so difficult to capture them. There are so many different looking kinds emerging from the habitats I’ve made for them.


I suppose if you want to manifest a reality where there are Pokémon, you ought to start with insect and plant kinds. I don’t particularly want to make them fight though. But if I did we know I’d be Sabrina.

This one is brown eyed with that pearlescent metallic effect and I think it’s a he.

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This one is blue with brown eyes. I think this one is a he, too

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I had a ham and mustard sandwich for breakfast, co-op layers the ham and I really like that. And this is my luncheon.

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I had one of the desserts I bought yesterday from Brighton’s Open Bakery in Kemptown. It’s always been full whenever I’ve passed by and when it wasn’t, I didn’t have the money to invest in a dessert. Also I’ve not really been feeling to eat sweet things. It’s an eclair  with nuts, strawberries and cream, from my local bakery. I had some cinnamon sticks sitting on my little oven, so I broke them up into bits and garnished the eclair, I also added icing sugar and I added nutella (which isn’t technically chocolate) to the glazed strawberries I took off the pastry cos they’re the only bit I really like.

:/

Did you know that biscuits were included amongst foods considered necessary, in the WW2 ration books and that I am a history buff? Probably not

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If you are OCD, try eating foods that leave residue on your fingers with chopsticks. I am not OCD about touching many things anymore but I really like eating with chopsticks.

WE ARE SHAPE SHIFTERS.

Okay you need to, well, you ought to at the very least: listen to this if you want the right vibe for my post. It brings a meditative session to a close and if you did not PAY to witness it, you’ll wish you had but you have time to.

If you don’t think the person in this photograph didn’t come from MY ovaries you are deluded. He has no loyalty. I value this, because it means if someone abuses him he will run to someone scarier. I don’t value this because he only cares about looks or something. I don’t really know whats wrong with his head. He was badly raised.

Also he has no idea of who is “scarier” than me, and to be scarier than me you need money, you need to be sexually involved with a lot of very big men, you don’t know what being ‘scary’ really means actually.

And actually those very big men are probably running from a version of me. Most big men that would run to someone that they think is ‘above’ me don’t realise that person is probably COPYING me. A hairdresser? A makeup artist? A dancer? An athlete? A SINGER? A fashion designer? A performance artist? A linguist (I give the individual letters in every alphabet more attention and more meaning than your being taught by someone who did all of the work first and had help doing so.) A GRAPHIC DESIGNER? A footballer? A sculptor of some kind?

Oh wait – a spiritual teacher? Well, do try your very, very hardest to avoid the ones that want magicckal kids. Which will be most of them.

Find an industry I could not succeed in if I were so boring as to put all of my energies into a single talent.

He’s stupid too.

 

Scary is OMAR – a person that two princes wanted to copy and they were vewwey jellay because EVERYONE was in love with him, even his sisters. Scary is Omar’s bullies from military school that I’ve been sexualising and secretly crushing on since I was about five years old. I TOLD YOU THAT IF YOU KILL HARRY I WILL LET YOU SLEEP SEX ME. IF YOU PUT HIS HEAD ON A SPIKE OUTSIDE MY FLAT I WILL LET YOU ALL HAVE SEX WITH ME. IF YOU HAVE GUTS AND YOURE HOT I MIGHT PUT YOU IN ONE OF MY PORN MOVIES.

Scarier is the person that – on her own – would hang out with people that most “Scawie” people wouldn’t want to hang out with, (the scawie people avoid me and pretend it’s because they don’t want to hang out) and prostitute herself to whoever necessary to get a mercenary she had released from deathrow in the congo released. And then when he didn’t show up for a date she rolled her eyes and picked his scarier superior instead.

Not a ‘prince’ and his rapist dads that kept having girls choose their little dogs over him so he started arranging for the dogs to be hurt to get them alone (it was all a cover up for the more sordid truth: he actually likes VERY LITTLE GIRLS.), not a celebrity like zoelaa that would invest in having men weigh someone like me down to keep her safe (the worst is that actually I don’t even think I could cope with making physical contact with her, she repulses me) scary is the person that could walk through crowds of neonazi wannabe kids and their big brothers and their fanny belly mothers  and gypsies MOSTLY BY HERSELF

but you picked the ginger ronald mcdonald bitch that called my ex and her ex a ‘half breed’ and you thought the sex would be the same because when insecure men made me think I was “bad in bed” you really listened

THUMBS UP


My body changes DAILY. I mean – it dramatically changes – daily. And if I put on fake tan, I look like a different person entirely. If I put on MAKE UP I look, again, like another person. ENTIRELY. This is my #OOTD.

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One day you’ll all wake up and realise that not only how you dress and what you get upto in your spare time changes depending on who your ‘friends’ and closest are (there is no such thing as a friend) – your face changes.

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Your body changes depending on the metabolisms of the people you hang out with too. Sometimes it is noticeable, sometimes it really isn’t until your face is totally different to how it was years ago.


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When I think about this fucking racist, (you want unconditional love and revenge?) that I telepathically told off for not fucking eating once when I saw a video of him in a hotel room, not wanting to eat a chocolate.. I get SKINNY. FAST. I mean over-night fast.

He bit into and ate a variety of children’s chocolates for taste and then he spat them out into a bin because he was on a regimen that had been advised to him by a ‘certified’ gym instructor for muscle development. Not weight loss.

Then I got angry at him in my mind, for being an asshole to a guy called Joe who was really rather pathetic looking to me and not defending himself against what felt, as an observer, a lot of guys bullying him. Joe later repaid the kindness by being rude and astral projecting to my place in Denmark without permission, at the time I had been made to think I was crazy that people could do that but it was also a kindness because I had my finger up my nose and he mentioned it. Which means that one of them did it. They claimed I had big nostrils cos I’m a nose picker. Ew, i know, but shut up. THERE ARE WORSE THINGS. LIKE INVADING PRIVACY. And he was with his older sister, so he should’ve been more mindful, thats actually what I think older sisters are supposed to be: but I don’t think his big sister is a very good big sister. I think that she’s an abuser actually and that her parents needed to know the truth. Perhaps their whole family are abusers. Although I think there’s a lot of Freudian material to psychoanalyse, if Zoe’s “ghost written” diary book is anything to go by.

Back to this:

I had to: actually, years later, once I was off medications that were making me overweight – SHOW Marcus and alfie (both of whom left their bodies to hang out with me, and anything that happened there was consensual. consent has been revoked, I can love someone and not want to hang out anymore.) that he could actually eat as many burgers as he wanted in a day if he was exercising the way that I exercise. Actually using all of your muscles. Which is tiring.

As in doing a demi-plie: is tiring. Especially in the absence of a barre.

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[ref]

If you want muscle growth, I’m your person. I prefer to be petite (I’m not) and so if I do things that make me develop muscle and I think of someone, they get the muscle. Fast. And I prefer to choose people. I know the grunts in the British army copied the footballers and the police that abused me, so it has to be this way. I will choose people eventually, that I am prepared to let borrow this nonsense. I think of the same few men anyway.

First of first of all: If you eat a protein heavy diet you will get muscles fast. Footballers like to befriend dancers because they like the muscles because they think the bloated look is sexy. I like skinny guys who are physically strong because otherwise I can’t jump on you. I won’t jump on a guy thats been doing steroids either.

First of all: You can exercise and not eat much and lose weight if you LOVE yourself as you are.
If you stop obsessing about “losing weight” or “being skinny” and really striving after achieving an image of faux-perfection that is probably quite far from the perfection you are capable of. If you want to see yourself as hot, get me to neg you.

I like having a little belly, I like belly dancing. I like fat jiggles. I ALSO like being skinny. I feel really hot when I am skinny, but I have been anorexic, and if you want something that wards people off anorexia: YOU LOSE YOUR HAIR. AND IF YOU ARE LUCKY IT MIGHT GROW BACK, BUT IT MIGHT NOT.

At the moment when I dance I feel to vomit because I think there are either a few people who are pregnant who have stolen some of my biohazards (TRUST ME – your life is OVER if you have stolen from me and I don’t really WANT those)

Second of all: If you want muscles, you will not get them at the gym. Perhaps if you invest in extras, like fat burners (Chinese dieting pills do work, if you get them from a licensed practitioner of Chinese alternative medicine but a consultation with them is expensive. But it is worth it.) The gym does NOTHING – you will not get muscles ‘like Drake’ by working out at the gym. Those are steroids or you have a person like me, who generates muscle fast in your thoughts. You actually get more muscles by doing stretches and actually using muscles you probably didn’t know you had.

This is a proper work out and it’s actually just a basic bitch warm up. It should hurt, and you shouldn’t do it much and you shouldn’t do it without a teacher present because technically this can injure you.

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If you are using the right muscles, your legs should look like this,
'flat' on the ground.

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Some people have a superior pointe, I haven't 'danced' with a 
properly trained classical dance teacher since I was about eight to 
ten years old.

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This is a difficult and painful thing to do. Accept that this is, 
for me, a substandard work out. 
And if you can't do this BETTER than me - you should not be doing 
pointe work.

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this was difficult to photograph and should be done with a very, very
straight back.

It is better than dumbbells and if it is done properly, it should help you tone more than the weird shit they have footballers doing in fields that would make much better rave grounds.

Going to the gym doesn’t teach you that.

Oh god I’ve a memory of a woman, a ‘gym instructor’ – in the gym, competing with me when I had drug induced parkinsonism – that gym in Ealing – DON’T GO. It’s overpriced. The men aren’t hot. The women DEFINITELY aren’t hot.

When I think about Killi the bird, I get skinny. I wake up skinny the next day. They have very fast metabolisms. Also I will at some point generously give people a healthy, protein AND CARB based diet that will speed up your metabolism, will give you the nutrients you need. It will be called the ’17’ Diet, because I illustrated the spirit I channelled before I had to feed the bird and I was concerned because she was skinny, and I didn’t understand why she ‘needed’ to be skinny, because that phase of beauty conditioning is finished and it is unhealthy, and it makes no sense. I thought “you have anorexia, I’m not encouraging or endorsing that.” and then when I lived with her as a bird, I ate the same food as she did. I went through three loaves of cheap white bread in a week – and hotdogs (with a white bread bun) (two at a time) and paté which is pure fat, and I got SKINNY. And the only exercise I did was scrubbing any mess that all-babies-make off the floor with a volcanic rock.

marcus_butler

He is my karma for sexualising this.

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AND ID DO IT AGAIN.
First of all this is hentai to me.

Not just Hentai. It’s YAOI.

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This is my thing. This is also my thing.

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[ref] (For the love of anything that has at any point in time been loveable, please do not watch this with cute pets or people under the age of 35 that have not already seen disturbing things.)

And this
She is a military vampire that masquerades as a child by donning a school girl’s outfit after seeing a brunette in the bathtub that’s committed suicide and she kills demons.

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And this is also my thing. 

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(This image has been in my head for YEARS. It is pretend. It is not a real person. I hope one day to do this in real life but I’d have to be very stoned and I’d have to know the octopus’ and squid’s personalities really well and also that they knew we were just making art for me to look at.)


No one dating Marcus Butler in a monogamous relationship would need to exercise because they’d be emaciated. But it is a two-way thing.

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(the emaciated african, not the wrinkled bitch pretending to be lady diana, in FLIPFLOPS :|) (I am the best at racist jokes, after only Omar.) (WE BOTH WISH WE WERE BLACK. WE BOTH WISH. TRUST ME.) (Also my two Ugandan mamas called Penninah and Enid called me a ‘mzungu’ and pretended it was them being nice but ACTUALLY I AM NOT A MZUNGU – Mexicans say ‘GRINGO’. I can take it, and actually I did take it – from people I really loved.)

(I’d kill myself if I’d of had a ‘photo op’ of me feeding a baby that looked like that. First of all you look fucking obese next to that baby, so that’s not hot, secondly you’re ACTUALLY keeping your distance because you’re ACTUALLY afraid of catching that child’s potential illness. That baby was taught to keep it’s distance from you, and actually, I’d of preferred that they did. Do not touch other people’s children. I don’t, and they probably got them from me – so you don’t either.)

When I think of him, I get nausea if I don’t eat every few minutes. If I exercise/walk for about ten minutes I am physically exhausted. I had to invest in tablets for nausea to cope with all of his anorexic bitches.

I do bully his girlfriend online, publicly, (is she still dating you? is she? ugh) but thats because she is a STALKER. That is because I picked him AGES ago, BEFORE YOU DID STEFANIE. What is it with stephanies and stealing my boyfriends and crushes? STAY IN YOUR LANE. IF YOU STAYED IN YOUR LANE YOU’D OF ENDED UP WITH A MUCH BETTER AARON.

(She ended up with a guy version of me called Aaron who has my surname and who ditched his bestfriend, who is also version of me. I hate both. I am very self hating. Most me’s weren’t abused like I was and are much stupider than I am.)

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(this is a picture of me and my form tutor from Saint James being boys. Except we, under the very strict meditation guidance of the pretend-deceased Jane of Seth Speaks, genetically engineered super flies and possibly vampire paramites. The dad is really nice and I vampired him, he spent a lot of time in meditation – but the mums squabbled over him and the turf war got a bit ridiculous so they’ve all split ways. They are all vampires.  Vampires are more dangerous without bodies. Spiders are cooler than you might be inclined to think from appearances alone and they only grow in sunshine and I know that there are many more bodies for them to occupy if they hurt themselves.)

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In the future, if another bird launches into my vicinity I will be 
feeding it to my maggots. Unless it is a seagull or a vulture or 
a hen.

Also my 2D husband Sabel was there. It is better for ALL involved if you don’t believe he is real actually. Green is our colour.

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His brother Monten/Magnus was also there and it was a mess but it turned out for the better.

I have taught them loyalty, MY enemies are THEIR enemies.


Also how weird was it that I watched Breaking Bad from a halfway house I was put into because people were defending a “blonde” that people cluedo’d decided deserved to live even though she was breast feeding a baby while she was doing heroin, using me to sleep with my boyfriend and had been using an ACTUAL BLONDE and stalking me for years.

I’ll “save” you Peaches, but this is coming out whether you like it or not.

(My headmistress from Saint James is the headmaster in American History X and I’m not ready to team up with her yet. She wore heels every day. She can drive. She raised an Alex into adulthood, somehow.)

I once said to her, sardonically, in a Philosophy class: “Do you REALLY think people are BORN loving? was HITLER just BORN loving?” (She said that we are born as beings of pure love.)

First of all: If a guy had asked her that so obnoxiously she’d have probably responded differently. She sent me on a school trip to Berlin with my class, and there, I felt so much towards the English people that had died in service, the ANIMALS that had died in service, the disabled people that had died in service, the disabled people that had been killed in the holocaust, the Jews that had been killed in the holocaust, the GAYS that had been killed in the holocaust and I almost cried in bed. I said “I hate myself for sounding racist but I HATE germans for doing this.” A blonde cried “WELL MY GRANDAD WAS A NAZI AND HE WAS A REALLY NICE PERSON”. enough said. I was ganged up on, while I lay in bed, by girls defending the nazi’s granddaughter. I did not cry.

Years later I was beaten up by a lot of black girls and black boys while I sat on the ground, they’d seen me holding hands with a girl – as a friend. They came over and said “EXCUSE ME IS YOU A LESBIAN” and I said “I might be?” (They knew I wasn’t, and I wasn’t, I was in a long term relationship with a half Egyptian guy. A GUY CALLED AHMED HOSNY. AS FAR AS ARAB SOUNDING NAMES GO – THAT IS THE WORST ONE EVER.) I didn’t cry.

Second of all: If you are BORN as a being of pure love that has to watch your mother’s memories of her being abused, raped, used for parts, by not only the friends she’d of sacrificed herself for, but for the family she’d of sacrificed herself for – your chances of that loving reality are thrown out of the fucking window.

And then years later, I meditated so much that I realised that I was Hitler in a past life. I had a vision of him in a metal cell crying over his dog. Then I channelled Hitler years later and he said “you were my mother“, but that wasn’t enough. I learned that his book had been edited by publishers and that he had been lied about. He had no idea about the camps. He had no fucking idea. Which I think was embarrassment, betrayal. And more than that the loss of his dog.

Back to Marcus though, I left my fangirldom towards Felix and Alfie alone because they had girlfriends that were very easy to feel attractions to before I realised that they had been stalking me online for a very long time and copying me, for a very long time – long before I learned of them.

I added Marcus on snapchat while he was single, and he ignored me. I watched a video later where I found out that Louise (who has definitely been mind controlled by all the weirdos i despise) at a party, set Marcus up with a blonde model that had appeared on America’s Next Top Model, I think. And he said that upon meeting that model he had feelings of concern that he could come across as creepy.

Well my spiritual teachers, that he’d of been connected to, through my being connected to him (when you think of someone, you share energy. I have the right to believe it and you have the right to disbelieve it.) would’ve said that it was my empathy, and my intuition and that he was feeling HER feelings.

Marcus, my Stephanie was a stalker. Peaches was a stalker. These women actually took stalking to an entirely new level, and neither were known for being especially loyal to anyone, not even a person who would do literally anything for them to keep them happy.


If I wanted to be a doctor I’d be able to tell someone what’s wrong with their body by what went on with mine. I can’t see through a person’s body, though I have teachers that can, but I can take your pain. If I want to heal you. I probably don’t want to heal anyone, but I can give you all hope that you can be healed yourselves if you ask to learn how to heal yourself. If I can heal myself of my disability (I’m at a phase where I can shit out a 2 week shit in 2 seconds and some people that go daily STILL WAIT TO USE THE TOILET?)

I bought these off Asos. How cute are they? They’re by Boohoo.

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When I was younger I had a cousin who cut her hair off. I cut mine off too. I looked like a boy but I wanted to look effeminate. Someone said – before it was really socially done or considered – to my older sister “is this your little brother?” and it made me deeply insecure. Older me would’ve said “yeeeeaaaahhhh” but that me was hurt. I think they knew more about me than I’d of liked, for example: I was born with both genitals. I imagine someone thought it’d have been less invasive for me to have my penis removed and that while Professor Germaine Greer who said “I AM A WHITE NEGRO” and who wished that she was a Jew – might’ve rejoiced at the potential for evolution, I was not given to parents that would appreciate that a person could exist as both genders. The karma was the same, I had to pick between two cultures and two religions. I’d have regular visits to the A & E for all sorts of things and depending on which of my ‘parents’ were around, I’d be “christian” or “muslim”, or of “latina” origin or “arab” origin. It didn’t really matter to me, to be honest. (I’d rather be a Jap Jewrab Latina but I’m not Japanese. I’d like to be, but I’m not. But if I could be I would be.)

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I knew I was taken from a black person, as a child. I asked and there was no denial, but it was met with a joke.

And I know I was supposed to be the oldest. You’ll know by the fact that my mother was interested in animals, plants and that she was a dancer that was too lazy to warm up that I am the child that her body was raising.

Great lengths were taken to make sure that my family didn’t have me and there were all sorts of motivations that resulted in my ‘mother’ being segregated. First from her family, then from her friends, then from the people she attended church with and while one of her kids was very protective of her (my brother), the other realised that she got a lot of attention from people if she lied about what went on at home.

I was not the eldest but I should have been and I believe it very sincerely. My family would not be the mess that they are if I had been my grandmother’s first child, or my mother’s first child. There are some qualities and virtues in me that are unwavering. Would I commit murder? I would kill someone that deserved it, I could do it, I mean I could cope psychologically with committing murder but I would never do so unless it had been accepted as a consequence, in a court of law, and I had been given the job, and I agreed with my own judgement that I could answer to any and all notions of God and the nature of God, for my decision for doing so and only if I could say with sincerity that it was for the good of all.

I care about the laws society values, to keep safe. I believe that people deserve to live safe societal lives.

Many terrible ideas have crossed my mind in my life, many, some of them influenced by TV, some of them influenced by my mother (she once told me that her friend Pam’s? father, I think, had ‘stomach ulcers’ and that he died as a result of eating ‘spicy food’ and then I’d be in the kitchen looking at the ‘spices’ and encouraged to ‘poison’ her with them. As if I would ever have done something so stupid, even if she at times really fucking deserved it.)

There is a reason that a person has to be born the eldest, it is significant in many religious practices. And the fact that I was born with both genders was significant too. It does matter who the eldest is. My siblings would not have gotten away with the shit that they gotten upto if I had been the eldest, if I had not been entrusted to them. I know that I was sexually abused by my sister, but my brother took the blame.

And I am supposed to be a prophecy fulfilled for the return of a Queen of Zion but frankly you aren’t ready for that. It’d kill you all, wouldn’t it. I was stolen from a woman called Beryl and a man called Antony. My “mother” was infertile. They chose my sister because my sister has an afro. I think that people time travelled and made very great efforts to ensure that I was not born. FAILED A BIT.

It is significant to geneticists, because through me, my spiritual teacher’s family were able to produce a child called Matty, that had ‘white person’ hair. I actually sort of prayed that Lisa would be given a child and I was told “It will be painful.”

Well, yes, seeing a little boy with skin in the perfect shade of caramel fake tan that has never been taught ballet, walking like a ballet dancer to school was painful. But I think that for Lisa to find out that her husband had put her spirit into her sister’s body and put his sister’s spirit into her body and that that was the reason that the baby ended up confused over who his ‘real mother’ is, is hilarious.


Probably a black man, though, who must’ve fancied my mother for her hair because that’s really the only thing that black people seem to envy about white people. That is mind control. But I’d happily give my hair-genes to black people if thats what they wanted to ‘feel beautiful’ – but do you want the other stuff? The body hair? Probably not. But there are benefits, to my body hair, I am so physically sensitive that if the right person touches me its probably the same as when white people experience their first ever orgasm with their third husband.

LOOKIT ME PLAYING DRESS UP. I did this at about 8 AM. It all looks very elaborate but really I put my hair in a ponytail and put on some eyeliner and lipgloss.

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I used to look in the mirror and measure my nose with a ruler and I’d think “my father is a black man”. I once actually said, as a teenager, “mum, did you have sex with a black man, because this is a black man’s nose.”

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Black people ARE Jews. I was told “not all black people are Jews”, but they are. You can choose any religion that you like, you can choose any cultural identity you like – but you’re still semitic. There were THIRTEEN tribes, not twelve.

The Prophet Mohammed (trust me, we knew each other. Peace be upon him my ass, he’s a vampire. There is NO way that HH – the retard (IM FLIRTING) responsible for our genetic make up – would let someone that had that affect on the Planet just DIE.) was in love with a Jewess and her people wouldn’t let them be together, because Jews have laws that keep them apart from people that are not Jews. For their safety, it was for safety.


ANYWAY I ALSO BOUGHT THESE YUMMY YUMMY

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It’s not food porn – because I don’t have sexual feelings about the appearance of food – EVEN PHALLIC FOOD – so it isn’t sexual but if when you say ‘food porn’ you mean ‘it makes me want to eat it’ then yes it is food porn and yes I am adorable with lollipops/cute foods in my mouth.