Connection/Art


I took a workshop today via Udemy called Connect with Colour – Using Art as a Way of Knowing. It’s about 30 minutes long. It’s one of the better freebies I’ve found on Udemy. I made a digital image full of hearts. ❤ It made me feel kind of fuzzy and good inside. It made my vibration raise. Love is a high vibration.

I found over 1,000 free courses that interest me on Udemy, truth be told. It’s a lot, I know. I also have some paid courses around energy work. There are many foundational videos that help with it, too, that are free to all. I’ll be putting forth some articles with freebie courses to help anyone interested in the future. I’m just finishing up the last two of ten courses of what I think is a great foundation in reiki. I don’t want to recommend courses I don’t enjoy, so I want to be sure I get through them all first. Quality assurance ftw. I also want them to be interesting enough that you don’t fall asleep to them, too. I want to mention that because I believe that if you’re snoozing, you’re not learning.

I decided to challenge myself to go back to school for as little $$$ as possible. I probably have a whole year of learning booked on Udemy at this point, which is great. I’ll stay busy and engaged. And maybe I can dodge some hatred from a coddled white man who will never understand the fear and pain of being a raped woman, color aside. It doesn’t matter what color a raped woman is; she’s been raped. She fears. She hurts. She starts to believe all human beings are rapists that will hurt her. She curls into herself, trying to protect herself from hatred and hateful things.

Many of the courses I picked up have roots in psychology. I’m a psychologist at heart. I don’t want to pay some fancy pants school for a diploma, though, so I thought about labeling myself as a life coach. I think instead of that I’ll just bring soothsayer back. It’s not like there’s a modern definition of what that is, anyway. I can define it for the rest of us. We can all subclass in soothsayer if we don’t want it to be our primary class.

I’ve been born out of my time, out of my element, and out of sync with the universe. I’m sure of that now more than ever. Now, as I watch television and movies, seeing fornication being the norm or magical no-problems relationships in abundance. Or relationships with problems no ordinary person would ever have to deal with. (Like your wife going back in time and getting stuck there, but holding a candle for her husband who is in the future for four years. [Okay, four years isn’t that long.] Anyway… Thanks, The Adam Project.)

I should have been born before the patriarchy was established thousands of years ago. Born when a woman had value. All women should be born in those times, if you ask us. But we’re not. In the present, a woman is just a cum dumpster. A maid. A cook. A caretaker of a man-boy who’d rather cling to mommy than take his wife for an adventure. Children who would rather escape reality in video games and phone apps instead of dealing with their emotions and the reality that is ever-present all around. Ostriches, trying to bury their heads in the sand amidst nuclear fallout.

Tell an atom bomb that you don’t believe in it and see what happens, why don’t you?

World War III is just moments away, children of Earth. What will you do when the nukes start flying? There is nowhere to run or hide. You idiots have enough weaponry to level everything. We just saw a movie about that very thing: The Colony. A very thought-provoking and intriguing movie about how the Earth snapped back within a few hundred years at most, much faster than all predictions.

If Crystal tells me she wants to die in earnest one more time… well. I’m pretty tempted to press the button, wouldn’t you know it. She tells me she wants to die nearly every fucking day, breaking God’s heart. And why? Because some white wavering dick in the Midwest of the USA is writing a novel about her being someone completely different than she actually is. He’s writing it to prove to the world he was wronged by her when the opposite is what is true.

Observe: she spent hours every day with this dick munch. Hours and hours of her time, energy, willpower, and thought. She was ever considerate of him, treating him like a feeling, emotional being. The problem is, Ben took non-communication to an all time low: he rarely answered any questions she ever asked. Eventually, she started to guess what the answers were, which he’d agree to whatever sounded good. Essentially, he wasn’t outright lying. He was, instead, allowing her to create a narrative of a reality that wasn’t real.

This is far from what she wanted, by the way. She merely wanted to understand this idiot. She wanted to understand how he felt, what his point of view was, his motivations in life. She wanted more of his details so her love could be deeper. He wouldn’t provide them to her, instead allowing her to guess what was real.

Eventually, she caught onto this game. She caught onto the fact that he was just nodding to whatever he thought she wanted to hear. His actions and his thoughts/words were incongruent. He was lying. And then, one day, he did perpetrate an outright lie. A big, big lie. Not a tiny, white lie that could be forgiven easily. No. An enormous lie. The biggest lie he’d ever told: he started dating a woman but convinced Crystal it was a man instead.

Why would a man go out of his way to lie to the woman he already had in his arms like that? Why does a man require two lovers at all? Do you? You require two lovers, reader? No, you don’t. You’re just giving into the idea of greed if you think you do. Lust. You don’t love yourself so you’re looking to others to define who you are. Instead of connecting with your own essence, you’d rather dither out, diffuse yourself and become dilute and worthless. You are your actions, not your words.

And this is what you’re telling a woman or man when you cheat on them:

You’re worthless. I have you. All of you. You’re mine, you even said so and everything you do tells me you’re mine, but I’m not yours because you are not enough. I don’t care if your heart hurts, you’re not enough to keep my attention. You’re not enough to deserve my love. In fact, all you deserve is pain. I’ll give you all the pain just to show you. I won’t leave you, like an honorable soul, I’ll just fuck around on you and give you a lifelong illness because your health is not my concern. I’m not your partner and I never was. I never will be, either. Look at what I do to you; watch me closely as I tell you one thing and do another. I’m a hypocrite and you love me, so what does that make you? You’re a fool to love me. I never loved you and I never will because you’re not worthy. You’re not worth my time or my effort. I cannot bear to spare a moment on your well-being. I cannot bear to spend energy thinking about you. That’s because you’re worthless, you know. You’re worthless because you’re not as skinny as that girl. Your tits aren’t as bouncy as that girl. Your legs aren’t as shiny and smooth-looking as that girl. Your ass isn’t as big or round as that girl. Your hair isn’t perfect like that girl. You don’t wear makeup like the whore over there. If you’re not a super model, you don’t deserve love. The world is a sex buffet and I want to eat all that I can. I’ve had enough of you; you are dissatisfying, truth be told. You love me with all your heart but I don’t give a shit because you don’t fit the mold. You don’t look like my family, you are incongruent. I’d rather fuck my mom than you, speaking of frumpy imperfect bodies. That’s why I’m a momma’s boy, truth be told. You aren’t her so get lost. I don’t care about you. I never did. I never will. I’m broken; I cannot care. I’m just built this way, nothing made me this way. The problem is with you. The problem is that you are monogamous. The problem is my mother treats me like her husband, too. Let’s not leave that out, either. Let’s blame everyone else for a fault inside me; a fault I cannot stand for you to point out in me. I can’t stand you because you’re always right, you perceptive little bitch. I hate you and everything you stand for: love, truth, justice, and monogamy. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate every nice thing you did that melted my heart, great or small. I hate that you made me care a little bit. You’re too fat for me and you know it. You aren’t my sister, that’s who I really want to be with. That’s why it was so easy to cum in her bed. I hate that you figured that out, too, after I told you I pulled her underwear down when we were kids, curious what I’d see underneath. It wasn’t what I expected, that’s for sure. I hate that you remember every bad thing I told you I did. I hate that you hold it against me now that you’ve wised up to my lies. I hate that you hate the idea of me fucking everything else; my love is not for you. I cannot love you, Crystal. I cannot love anything but my own dick, which I worship three, four, five times a day. And now that you’re gone and everyone is gone, you’re all I think about. I rape you in my daydreams, that’s how much I hate you. I think about all the best rape scenes I got out of you and fantasize about them happening again and again and again. My little sex slave. You have no more free will in my fantasies, you do only what I want you to do. That is the only way I will ever love you. You have to fit into this blowup doll facade I’ve developed and fostered and nurtured. You have to take all my hate as if it was love instead. Get on your knees, bitch. I’ll fantasize about you being everyone but the real you so I can finally get off the right way. Oh shit, she figured out that I hate her guts for being the sweetest living fuck doll on the planet. I’ll never actually care about the fact that her health is in decline. I watched her puke in my toilet and told her to go see a doctor. I have no intention of helping her; she should help herself. How dare she blow her nose into a tissue and flush it down the toilet! That’s not good for the pipes! The house plumbing is more important than her plumbing. Never mind that this is the third time she’s thrown up this week. I don’t give a shit what’s wrong with her, she ought to take care of it herself. I am in no way responsible, even though she’s been living with me for four years. And you bet your sweet britches I’m going to rape her later, when she can’t even move and she’s lying in bed, trying to recover from puking in the toilet again and feeling all kinds of miserable, high as a kite because she’s in so much pain. She’ll be extra pliable, then. I can get away with murder. It doesn’t matter. I told all her friends how horrible she is to me and they believe me. I can’t believe how they believe me, but they do. It’s delightful. Now nobody gives a shit if she’s alive or dead. I can do whatever I want to, including reassure her that there’s nothing to worry about as I rape her every single night for over a year while she’s trying to deal with her digestive problems. Problems I foster by feeding her all the things that make her worse. I’ve noticed she’s getting worse and worse, and I know it’s her food because I watch it happen, but I won’t say a fucking word to her. I get more of what I want. I’m more important than her health. My ego is more important than her health. Plus, watch this ma — no hands. I just tricked her into condoning sex with a woman by telling her it was a man because she’s trying to encourage me to date a man as if I’m actually gay. I tricked her into thinking I was gay. Because, you know, it’s perfectly normal to want photographs of me getting off on sucking a dildo. How dare she be so understanding about the idea that I might be more fulfilled with men than women. I’ll prove her wrong. I’ll find a second girlfriend.

You’re worthless, especially now that I have a second girlfriend. A woman just like the woman you used to be: fat, with glasses, short and spiky hair that is dark, and a face much like your own. Before you wrecked yourself trying to get my approval. I’ll be completely infatuated with her and treat you like shit, pretending it’s all good. They’re our cats, after all, Crystal. Won’t you meet Jessica? She really wants to meet you. She said she absolutely wants to meet you! Will you meet her? I know I lied to you, I know you cried for fucking hours over it. I know it hurts you when I go to see her, you spend the whole date stressing out and you tell me so every time. I know I lied and you cried, but it doesn’t matter. You don’t really matter. I love you now that I finally have what I want, don’t you see?! I LOVE YOU! Don’t leave me, I want you both. I need you both. I need to fuck everything I can, I’m not fulfilled because I never became sexually active until I was thirty five. I can’t commit to you because I haven’t explored enough birthing canals, bitch. I need my threesome fantasy fulfilled or I will never be okay. I need group sex, stupid whore. Why won’t you be a proper whore and get on your knees? I want to see you eat each other out before I fuck you both silly. I need you to share your body with strangers for my fulfillment. I need you to give up a core value: monogamy. Just so I can be happy and love you. It’s the only way you’ll ever be lovable. Ass to ass. Come on, bitch whore woman, say yes already. Jessica is chomping at the bit to serve me and my needs, why aren’t you? Why won’t you meet my new whore so I can have both whores together? Why won’t you just do it, Crystal? Just collapse on your core value and let me override you, coerce you to be someone you’d never be naturally. I’ll love you then. Don’t you want my love?

Crystal, you misunderstood me. No, no, you’re not at all right about how I think or feel about you. I’m not treating you like you’re a whore. [Get on your KNEES, BITCH. LET ME RAPE YOU.] You’re not a whore at all, neither is Jessica. We don’t have sex, not ever anymore, not after you gave me rules to follow when you got pissed off at me lying to you. You should trust me that I respect you now, even though I knew you were totally against me fucking another cunt all along. I disguised her as a man in conversation with you to fool you into encouraging me to fuck her the first time. It’s your fault you were hoodwinked, coerced, and tricked. Nobody is going to believe you. They fall for my boyish charm, because they make up excuses for me to be perfectly human and then I agree and they buy it, hook, line, and sinker! No one will ever catch on that I’m vile and I wanted to murder you all along. I wanted to dissect you like a science experiment. The problem? I have feelings for you and I hate myself for it. How dare you evoke emotions in me! I am a psychopath, through and through, and then suddenly I gave a shit about something not me. I had to get another whore to project all that love onto in order to prove that you’re not the one I love. But don’t you dare walk away from me, you don’t understand me. I’m a voyeur! My friend Eric said so. He doesn’t understand the difference between exhibitionism and voyeurism here because I never actually explained what I made you do to try to demean you and devalue you or anything. I just told him how you behaved and made him side with me anyway. He doesn’t understand how I just want need to be in a giant orgy and I won’t tell him just in case he might think less of me. I want him to tell me who you are so I can throw rocks at your glass house. Never mind it shattered years ago when I told you that you were enough one day and the next I took it back. I couldn’t stand that I’d made you happy somehow, you fat bitch whore! HOW DARE YOU! How dare you throw a net around my heart and capture my love! HOW DARE YOU! You’re a pig and I hate you. If you ever tell me how I feel ever again, I’m going to make sure you regret it! You have until mid February to move out and every time you tell me what I’m feeling, I’m going to take days away. How do you like them apples? I’m in control. I’ve always been in control. You can never be my equal because I’m the captain of this soloship. You are worthless and I am a god. Now get away from me since I can’t fool you anymore, get out! I hate the sight of you. I hate that you won’t buy my lies anymore. I hate that you won’t let me rape you anymore! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! YOU SKANK BITCH WHORE! IF YOU AREN’T FUCKING ME, YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO STAY!


Thanks for choosing METATRON 2000. Have a nice day!


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