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I Could Sleep (Good Vibes 7)

Look, I can’t help it.

She dances around to Vivica.

You know, this song is important to me. First off, it reminds me that we women can adore each other platonically and bolster each other’s self-esteem, which is woefully battered by the rape culture in America today, if not all over the world. It also helped me through my suicidal teen years when I pretended it was about me instead of some gal named Vivica… plus, the name is just beyond beautiful. But, most of all, it reminds me of the Him that every song is for. Every man I ever dated, honestly. They all fall short when it comes to making a lasting bond. (Proof in point: WHERE ARE THEY NOW?!)

One of them is balls deep in a woman named Jessica, another in a woman named Candy Cane, and another in a woman named Kelly.

She flies away from that shit show to the next chapter to unfold.

Do you know what the best part of telepathy was going to be? Mind movies. We could literally share movies made in our minds. Our imaginations would literally be the limit. Damn, that was awesome. But we’re not going to get telepathy because as a species, we haven’t earned it. We have yet to clean up those brain waves. The real reason nobody’s landed on this forsaken planet to help us out of our problems with plastic islands in the damn ocean.

I remember once I made God giggle for a good fifteen minutes. I feel like I’m winning every time God laughs. I was imagining myself walking up endless staircases, like in a tower, wearing some wizard hat and a robe, holding a walking stick. I decided to stop because I needed to do something, so I used chalk to draw a door on the wall of the landing I stood upon. Then, I opened the door and cast heal on my friend Julie, making some mystical sounding noise for a sound effect. Then, I slammed the door shut again and continued walking up the stairs of the observational tower.

He’s still fond of that one, it seems. He giggled again. Or maybe… that was… you?

Yes, I totally got the idea to make that doorway from Beetleguise. Great movie. I love the sand worms!

Now the best y’all are going to get out of me is making a video game of some sort full of the crazy inside my head. I’ve got my own universe inside of me(TM). Worlds of ideas. I used to share them on a MUD or two, but now? Meh. It’s such a chore, presiding over perpetual children (and married men that flirt with me regardless, it seems? Maybe I’m reading into it. God says I’m not.)

It’s tricky listening to God, though. Sometimes it’s BenjaNick trying to sabotage me some more. Surely, we can get her to kill herself somehow!

No, I don’t think so. Not after God invested over a year and a half of physical therapy into my spine. You know, they made me stop in the middle of a merge zone on 38th street to admonish some people who were being assholes and honking at each other behind me, thinking someone would road rage me to death. Interestingly enough, the dude in the sports car just cruised with me at speed limit while a minivan full of assholes shot past us, as if they were the most important people in the whole world.

In fact, that reminds me of God laughing his ass off one time when I remarked that someone else thought they were more important than me in that off-handed sarcastic way I’ve got. He reminded me that I’m the most favorite soul on Earth and I was like uhh…. yeah, thanks. I forgot. You’d think I’d remember after a dozen times, but nah. Even so… he’s almost repaired my self-esteem. I’m so labor-intensive, it’s embarrassing.

Speaking of embarrassment… I’m a little bit embarrassed from my trip to the store earlier today. My original plan(TM) was to go meet Raymond at St. Paul’s church to catch the pastor’s sermon and then go up to Wegmans on the way home, which would have been about seven or maybe even eight. I had a few hours to kill and thought I’d bake my cake so that afterward it would be cool enough to put frosting on… that’s when I found out I had no more faux milk.

Also… what is up with Wegmans not carrying unsweetened vanilla soy milk?! They used to. They got rid of it for chocolate. I’m allergic to chocolate. :[

Anyway, I got unsweetened soy milk and some faux butter for my cake and frosting since I new I would use a whole tub of it, basically, between the two. I did what I always do: walk past the deli. I have multiple reasons, which does not even begin with a boy, but yeah there’s that reason, too.

I’m claustrophobic, actually. It’s why I won’t go to Tops — it’s a fucking cave in there. It’s why I don’t go into a lot of buildings, honestly. And maybe it’s not so much that I’m claustrophobic as I am able to sense my chakras. All of them. There are so many of them and not all of them are residing in the physical body; many of them are extended above the head and below the feet. I can feel a great deal of things within sixty feet of me. The more things in my way, the more I feel like I might miss something like an axe to the head from behind.

It’s not like I’m a superhero with catlike reflexes… that will never be true. But I get paranoid when people are within six feet of me, typically. The further out into this sixty foot bubble, the less I notice it all… but when it comes to cramped spaces, I just hate them. It could still be claustrophobia. Either way, I’d prefer to go to an outdoor market place altogether, even in the dead of winter.

It’s not my fault that there happens to be eye candy over in the deli. That’s just icing on the… wait for it… CAKE!

That’s all I’m gonna say. Sorry, boys, I know you wanna hear all about yourselves with at least a modicum of adoration. Your modicum is above. Re-read it as many times as you need to.

No, really. I’m done now.

You should read about how All Men Are Handsome. (Previous entry. Fetch!)

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder; you know that already. I still want to draw a beholder with the word Beauty across one eye’s lens.

So if you were wondering why all your relationships fail, take heed, Earthlings: You are not closing the connection with your previous partner(s) appropriately before moving on. Exhibit A: BenjaNick. Exhibit B: Lucien. By the by, Lucien… do you still fuck with that thing between your legs or are you really a lady now? STOP RAPING ME IN YOUR FUCKING HEAD, ASSHOLE.

She’s over them, mind you, but they won’t leave her alone at all. How many times do you all need to be told that if the person isn’t actually invested in you in the exact same moment that you’re invested in them, it’s rape? How many? I’ve told you more than once now and I’m losing my patience. One of these days, you will simply drop dead from failure to observe. In fact, billions of Gaians will do that.

Those destroyers(TM) she told you about? We’re here. And we have laser precision on our side, might I add. It didn’t take us all that long to get here. As Crystal told Nick once when he tried to imagine God spending a billion light years coming to Earth, “What? You think God doesn’t know how to use a worm hole?”

I’m going to go put the megaphone to bed now. I mean, the child we all love and call Crystal. Good night, Earth.

Over and out.

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