I had a boy toy that I used to enjoy playing with. He took my mind off of adulting and…I needed that. Under normal circumstances…my toy collection remains private. But the mindset of his previous owner…resembles the antique doll Gabby Gabby, from Toy Story 4. And her need to be loved, by anyone but self, birthed an inability to let go of him…and anyone he’s attached to. Ion even have this toy anymore…but she’s still fixated on feeling seen by me. Which means her obsession was never with the toy I had. It was with getting my attention. Even though she was rehoemed by a soul that mirrors hers…and comes with more toys than the one she lost.

I can’t figure out how I identify as an imposter…but still find time to think so highly of myself. Displaying the depths of my self-love always seems to attract crab cakes. So I think I learned to play coy, to curb bottom feeder behavior. But…that mindset doesn’t inspire my inner child. It diminishes the innate desire we have to show up authentically and…ew. Now, my resistance has me working towards merging my mentalities, in a way that gives muse…instead of meek. And this inner work is producing organic streams of unwavering self-confidence. Broadcasting it is my new form of entertainment. Because it causes towers to fall in the minds of diss jockeys...who tried gaslighting me into emitting radio silence.

I don’t get any pleasure from pretending to like politics. But lately I’ve been drawn to it. Because it’s mirroring the spiritual experience that I’ve been having with my ‘family’. The optics make me feel like there’s an energetic shift happening. Which is increasing power in those who’ve been forced to play humble…and depleting it in those who actively abuse it. Abuse that usually goes unchecked, until those who’re rarely held accountable for their inconsideration…are trapped inside the receiving end of it. And it will always, only, ever require that one…to set records ‘Strait’ with the action…of shutting sh*t down. Moments like this feel like Divine Intervention, meant to remind the prideful…that no one is bigger than the program.

I commit to my commitments because…I take commitment seriously. I’ve been given a lot of reasons to release the idea that reciprocation will always be received. And I’d probably let go…if I wasn’t so dedicated to my delusion. Atp, my only loyalty is to myself. So the bar of doubt is being set by couples, who showcase how flaky their connection is. In these toxic tethers, the energy that the masculines embody…give bachelor. But the ring on the fingers of their trophies suggest vows, bound by fidelity, have been made. What’s wild is how this hypocrisy is silently encouraged in our culture. Instead of being openly condemned. Strictly off the strength of the old adage, that a man’s word…is all he has.

I needed a minute. I’ve gotten good at transmuting my ‘familial’ toxicity. But too much of it, all at once, requires me to rabbit hole…until I get dug out. I figured a crash out was on its way to me. Because I could feel the lore of my mania, seducing me with its forbiddenness. And as much as I enjoy the chaos we create…I always start self-sabotaging whenever I give in. Which eventually leads to me quitting on people, places and projects. So disconnecting from virtual reality was needed…to make sense of my actual presence. Fortunately, my absence was intentionally reflected back to me…by someone whose energy I’ve developed an addiction to. Which forced me to feel every inch…of the consequences that come with ghosting my goals.

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.