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A rock fan. A thinker. A psychic empath and a channel, a Tarot reader. A single polyandrist looking; The lover of men, kings, and gods. An eternal romance analyzer.  A romantic pervert. Generation X Rebel. A psycho-spiritual life coach.

Hugh Hefner dies at 91 leaving a history of dreams realized

One love of my life has passed

I don’t often find myself compelled to write farewells to anyone, really. Hugh Hefner is one of those people who made my world better by simply being in it.

I’ve never bought the Playboy magazine – I don’t like girls, but I loved his life. I loved what he did in his time, throughout his life, the way he lived, loved and stood by what he believed in. He was a hero to me, a man who refused to believe in such nonsense as sexualizing women would be offensive to them. He stood strong in his belief it was possible to love many women, in many different ways, without owning them. I never read a word he has written, and I feel like I’ve known him forever.

This man lived a life that I love him for. I would have never become one of his girlfriends, but I have a serious bro crush on him and have always done. Ever since I was a teen, I idolized him for his honesty of living, living his truth. Whatever guilt or shame he felt, he shouldn’t have, if he did. To me, he was sexual freedom embodied, and there has never been anything more important to me than that, no matter how religious I was in my teen years, God was not as important to me as sexual freedom… And I always trusted God to be with me on that. I never believed God judged people for loving the most beautiful thing in their lives; their sexuality and having that connection to other people. I always believed all that was a human invention and a contaminant in religion; the stigma on sex, although in so many ways, it was made the main point of it.

My feelings toward him were as if he was my personal protector, someone whose spirit stood there, watching over me like that of a guardian angel, giving me the right to be who I am. His influence was there simply by him existing, by him being what he is, and staying that way through all terrible things that have attacked human sexuality. He withstood, with such casual ease… Believing in one truth: My life, my way… “If you don’t like what you see here, get the funk out. You’re all invited to the party, you know you didn’t have to come, no rotten apple’s gonna spoil off my funk… We don’t try to force feed you…” (Extreme lyrics.)

I always felt like he was a friend to me, oddly the kind of friend I knew would be a very, very good friend I haven’t met yet. I wish I had known him personally, and I hope that in our next incarnation, we’ll meet, greet, make friends, make love, maybe, but whatever way things will fall, we’ll always have one mutual love; freely expressed sexuality.

I cannot really be sad to see him go, 91 years is a good long life for anyone, and he used every single year of it. There was no wastage to speak of. I adore the way you lived, I’ll take it over from here. LOL. My turn to make people gasp. (I wish! :D)

Rest in peace and then rise again.

Until such time as the stars align.

Loved your life. Thank you for having lived all of it. I feel it all so strong. As if I was there.

We’ll be waiting for your return.


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