It’s taken me a long time to remember who I am. In the time that I spent wandering…I met a few people who were able to capitalize off of my absent mindedness. I valued these connections more than I should’ve, because I needed to feel like I had something worth holding onto. Which left me emotionally Scar’d. And it taught me that I’ll believe a lie before the truth…when I’m desperate for affection. God knew this before I did. So He sent me people who I’d either allow to break me…or who I’d use as building blocks. But pain was my love language, so I chose what broke me. Which eventually helped me let go of my pride…and rebuild my peace.

Everything in this world is backwards. Which makes accepting reality…hard to do. Especially when dating is concerned. Because most souls profess to want emotionally stable connections. But the toxicity we possess…poisons the partnerships we attract. These toxins encourage women to leash cravings for commitment, while the dawg we desire...roams the streets. And it seduces men into sacrificing lifetime love…for one night only’s. My love for leash lash outs led to me attracting a Bully. Who only considers my feelings…after he tries to hoe me. Is hE jUSt miRrORiNg mY bAd bEHaViOr bAcK tO mE?! Victim blaming is…unacceptable.

The pressure to present as socially acceptable is intensifying. We get inundated with ‘ideal’ imagery on a daily basis. But these images usually don’t reflect reality. Which has led to a culture full of table dancers, whose current facial features and physiques…are man made. This form of glamour magic is meant to cloud perception. And the youth usually can’t tell the difference. So they fall for facades…that subconsciously condition them to cookie cut, as a means of building counterfeit confidence. Once shapes have been shifted…access usually follows. Because this world sends out open invites for acts of assimilation…that undermine organic displays of self-esteem.

I don’t think my BM took reproduction seriously…like me. I honestly feel like she thought she’d birth a bunch of minion mirrors. And that was true, until she had a martian that looked nothing like her…mentally. When I was younger, I didn’t know the emotional effect this lack of resemblance would have on my psyche. But the older I got…the more I realized that inheriting confidence, from a woman who resembles what this world considers beautiful, was impossible. Because our reflections were night and day. I did my best to blend in like the rest of my siblings, by cosplaying her characteristic traits…but that just led to dissociation. Which left me feeling like an alien…trapped in spaces…with domestic terrorists.

My peace is still disturbing tf out of my twin sister. Oops. I unintentionally predicted a petty post that showed up on my timeline the other day. And my decision to put the receipt in the chat…provoked her to project more of her truth…onto me. Now, she’s accusing me of having an entity attached to me…that’s responsible for how I’ve been acting. Even though she spent the last 4 years blaming my spiritual inclinations on my biPoLaR diSOrDeR. I asked her to give ONE example of her doing what I do. But that led to links being sent…of videos explaining spiritual attachments. Which is better than the articles she used to send, about the connection between spiritual psychosis and bipolarism. So, it’s the baby steps for me.

I’m annoyed. But we’re in full moon energy, so I can’t spazz in the chat like I want to because…that’s what they want. The frustration I feel came after I made the mistake of holding myself accountable, for energetically offending my niece. Unfortunately, I made the mistake…of correcting my mistake…in front of my wombmate. Who’s violently allergic to righting wrongs. In the past, she’s been able to make me look crazy asf…for practicing the art of speaking spiritually. Now, I realize that using my native tongue…gives me the ability to speak life into conversations, that could kill growth. So she’s resorted to trying to convince my niece that this language I’ve been teaching her…is “sChiZOpHrENia” speaking.

I tried but…my pARaNoiA sent me back to the Gang Goofy chat. I text about my childhood memory being non-existent…but told them about a vivid memory I have, of finding VHS tapes with me and my twin on them as kids. My BM was never the sentimental recording type, so I remember asking about them. And she told me she was trying to get us on commercials. Which made sense, until I watched Candace Owens speak on Charlie Kirk having gifts…that led to him being studied as a child. So…all I did…was emphatically insinuate that the tapes I found were a part of some kind of study. Which prompted my twin to try and develop an image of my mental malnourishment. But her memory of being approached about doing a twin study, in elementary school, is what ended up being revealed.

I’ve been trying my hardest to distance myself from my delusions of grandeur. And it was almost starting to work…until last week, when I had my niece for the day. I ended up finding out my BioMom has been tracking locations while she’s with me…on a phone she’d been letting her use…ever since my little sister reinstated our communication. I figured it out after the phone died, and my little sister started blowing mine up…because my BM got the sudden urge to “sEnD a cODe” to that number. I tried to excuse away the pedestal paranoia it produced. But that was pointless. Because earlier today, I found out my BM asked for that phone back…days after I took my assumptions to the Gang Goofy chat. Shocking.

The commitment that my ‘family’ still has towards using me as their bipolar beard is…crazy. None of them have come back groveling out of guilt and…that’s bothering me. Because I feel like I failed at getting them to see how flawed our foundation is. I thought falling back, to work on me, would eventually spark a ripple effect. But my absence is just allowing them to go back to living comfortably, in our generationally cursed chaos. Which also bothers me. Unfortunately, my urge to spend an endless amount of energy, rant raging in the chat is nowhere to be found. So I’m trying to find a way to cope with the fact that my attempts at waking us up to our dysfunction, ignited the kind of fear in them…that made them fold.

Ion know what’s going on in the energy right now. But it’s a lot of people getting a crash course on the consequences of speaking recklessly…about those who possess the ability…to clock tf out of them. Watching from the outside looking in gives second hand embarrassment. And it’s making me rethink the passion I have for being so pretentiously petty. Because it’s only a matter of time before shots that’ve been sent out…return back to sender. I still enjoy watching people, I don’t like, get violated by the same play they tried running on someone else though. It’s comforting…but…cautionary tale-ish at the same time. Which is slightly annoying. Since I read hoes so effortlessly.

I have a heightened level of disgust for people who rely on being led from the outside in. Because they lack the ability to form original thoughts. So their opinions are usually given to them, from someone they’ve been conditioned to believe has more power. Which turns all their words into co-sign commentary…spoken in an effort to be stamped, by a self-serving savior. I used to be able to relate, because I was raised to form my beliefs around what was socially acceptable…instead of being taught how to think for myself. So I shrunk my psyche to fit in with follow the leader frequencies…until I learned the value of my individuality. Then…the crowd started following me. Weirdos.

I’m in the middle of not giving af…and not caring that I don’t. Which can lead to pole dances…filled with cheek claps…for those who can’t stop paying me attention. Putting on a ‘gun’ show is what I’m expected to do, whenever these energies go out their way…to let me know they’re still on my body. But my eyes are locked in with an energy who commands my attention with authenticity…instead of begging for it in booby trap bars. The pressure applied from that originality must be goals. Because the Puppy ExPressed’s are trying hard to play big dawg. Even though all their yapping…is giving their true essence away.

I used to spend a lot of time pretending not to know what was going on around me because…I usually didn’t know. I tried to pay attention to everything, but most people smoke screen. So my intuition started keeping me updated…on a ‘need to know’ basis. But lately, it’s felt like I’ve entered my ‘all you can eat’ era. Because my spirit won’t stop feeding me insight…on the energies…that are in my energy. To the point where I’m now bluffing my way out of acknowledging all the hands (to mouths) I see. I feel like this is probably just a lesson in self-control though. Since I bite at everything, when I’m in my feelings. And with the bEeF that’s been laid out for me recently…God must be in the process of testing my will.

Being overly protective of my heart holder has always been my achilles heel. Because attracting someone who matches my energy, enough to trust them with the weight of that carry, takes for f*cking ever. It’d be cute to pretend my above average attentiveness is selfless but…I honestly just don’t want to risk outside distractions, coming in to target the hands that have me. So…I usually shoot first and think second over them. But lately, I’ve been being guided to observe my own triggers…to expose any vulnerable spots that could make my fingers slip. This reconnaissance now has me unmatching with old energies that I‘ve already struck out on. Which is long overdue since…we no longer appear to have anything in common.

I used to have a habit of feeling sorry for my inability to escape the pressure of my perceived persecution. It felt like the harder I worked, the less I had to show for it. And that’s annoying asf. But every time I went to take my tears to God…I was reminded of the part I played, before I could finish my sob session. Because I chose to terminate the seeds I carried…that were supposed to be planted on this planet. The insight I now have about my gifts, lets me know the potential that could’ve been passed through my parenting. So doing this work, without any of the (3D) rewards that should come from it, feels like Divine Justice. Since I took out the rightful reapers, of what I was sent here to sow.

Childhood trauma has raised a lot of mentally fragile adults. This fragility usually goes unnoticed…until we meet a force who reminds us of our frailness. Insecurity is our biggest tell. And projection is the tool used, for those attempting to destiny swap a sense of inferiority…with a spirit they feel is superior to them. Instead of healing. This transference of trauma is always done passive aggressively. Because being direct, with someone who has the nerve to showcase strength, damages the ego of a weak mind. So subliminal shots are sent out…to souls who stand in the supernatural ability…of overcoming environments…that emotionally crippled the sitting ducks that target them.

I didn’t live on my own until I was 32. Before then, I unknowingly roommated with spirits who monitored my day to days. But moving out on my own made that impossible. After I broke up with my last ex…there was no one left to clock me. Which is when the first pop up cam was introduced. It was awkwardly angled, in order for it to be pointed directly at my door. And that birthed my first Karen complaint to leasing…via email. I’ve lived in two different places since then, and the same thing always happens…months after I establish residency. So moving to escape this fish bowl experience feels useless. Since it seems like there’s always a new nosey a$$ neighbor…brought in to stopwatch me.

I’ve never had an issue saying the quiet parts out loud. Because making someone else uncomfortable…feels better than sitting in the discomfort of leaving something unsaid. But today I ear hustled my way into a conversation…that helped me understand why some people find comfort in awkward silences. The words spoken hinted at emotional instability; but the energy felt like a deep level of shared distrust. And everything in me wanted to pause their sh*t show, to encourage them to constructively air out the real issue. Unfortunately, the longer I listened, the more I realized that the tension between them…was because of me. So, I sat back and let it play out. Shocked by how assumptions…can literally lead to a$$ clown behavior.