I think the first blog I ever made was a blogspot/blogger account. I can't remember if I ever even posted on it. I think, like my mother, others' perception of me or even the possibility of the perception is paralyzing. "What will they think? What are they going to say about me?" and my answer to her is always "Probably nothing, you aren't that important."
But what happens when I know in my soul that I am?? I am that bitch and I have always been that bitch even if the bitch is dormant, hibernating, and being a sleepy lil baby. Even if that bitch has never risen to her full potential because of a childhood full of neglect, an alcoholic father with accompanying daddy issues, a chronically sick mother, low self esteem that made me believe that I am unworthy of love and success, and the overbearing presence of Saturn constantly throwing things my way to build up my strength and perseverance in order to step into a bitch's shoes and make things happen for myself.
Come to think of it, even when I'm being a drowsy daisy, I am still the embodiment of my final form. As Neil DeGrasse Tyson once said (or maybe more than once), we are prisoners of time, prisoners of the present because we live in the third dimension. I am already that wise, philanthropic, bad ass bitch in a power suit that makes men fall to their knees in fear and submission if that is who I want to be. I just can't access her fully because linear time wants me to SUFFER.
Would a regular, non-bitch spend thousands of dollars on a giant portrait of herself and her cats?
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Feat. Mr. Milo "Papatito" Andotis Ventimiglia Bigglesworth Martinez and Princess Mocha Linda Latifa Latte <3 |
I don't think so.
So now we are consciously on the journey to fulfill my life's desires of being authentically myself, making all the money, and ruling the world in a way these wannabe oligarchs wish they could.
Why? Because I said so.
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