
“Bug on a wall, doe eyed, pressed to a window, steamed and well, comfortable..
I handled the last storm.
I’ve been meeting people who look like me again. I must admit I’m timid and shy to approach..”

∆ Neural Alchemist | Self-mythologist ∆

“Bug on a wall, doe eyed, pressed to a window, steamed and well, comfortable..
I handled the last storm.
I’ve been meeting people who look like me again. I must admit I’m timid and shy to approach..”

“You were made of satin layers and old linen sheets.. How ripe to meet you in heaven’s skies.” 🔸🕯️✴️🕯️🔸
I prayed hard on my way to work.
Feeling at home while talking to source.
Connecting to source.
One day at a time?
One choice.
One decision.
Today at work I will eat my food and drink my tea.
I’m going to dance and write.
Open me up. Recreate. Revamp.
I have some thinking to do with the woman I want to be. I am holding space for all I am in every moment. Maybe this year I’ll find my niche.
I don’t want to get sexually and romantically distracted. At the same time I don’t want to shame myself for wanting to be intimate…I want to break free from the belief that I am only desired physically. I want to also hold that men are attracted to the physical first. It’s survival. I’m mad sexually appealing, healthy, and warm to look at and so it makes sense if that’s what pulls one in. I have programming that has made me unsafe with the idea of men being attracted to my physical and being lusted after. Which is honestly unfair, unreasonable, and ridiculous. I can sense lust and genuine interest in a second.
Reflecting often these days on what kind of frequency bald-headed me was on to have been playing with the entities she attracted, entertained, and kept around. However I am grateful she paid all that karmic debt, held it down gracefully, and survived.
I wouldn’t be here; or the woman I am today, without her. I’m over here like big sis, clearing house. Hella protective over us.
I feel her when I feel the anxious sensations throughout my body, I’m aware that those hesitations and sensations are her. And although personally I can’t relate I tend to her with tings like lemon balm, stretching, tea, family, silence….
I soothe her.
It’s okay lil mama, you’ll settle into trusting fully.
She’s peering over my shoulder; doe eyed and in a shy awe, when I flow in a way she’s never seen. When I move in a way she wouldn’t dare to. I must admit, we’re both on the edge of our seat as many cycles end and the worldly cycle concludes.
I love being a women.
Everything about it.
Blood, burnings and birth.
Airy, soft.
Pure fire and magic.