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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.

I need to stop teaching, preaching, and writing opinion pieces

And start writing about my emotional experiences... Other than anger and frustration, possibly.

Somehow, I need to start expressing my feelings.

I explain my feelings a lot, I may describe them, but somehow, I still feel I do not. Something is not reaching its destination.

I feel as soon as I even consider digging deep into the actual feelings and talking about them, my mother’s spirit flashes in like a hungry buzzard, ready to pick the emotional flesh off my bones. To find out why I don’t love her because everything is about her to her. I couldn’t possibly have feelings unrelated to her. So I close up because she’s not supposed to devour my feelings for someone else or about something else. None of this is for her.

I need to learn to stand on a pin of a needle.

Fuck mediocrity, fuck being the best of the year. Fuck everything if it’s not the best of all in everything.

How can someone so willing to give up a fight be so competitive?

Someone who fights only when the fight is worth fighting and also winnable.

I guess it saves energy.

October 12th 2017

Nothing special about this day, and yet, there is. I haven’t written much, which is unusual. I’ve sat on a chair listening to Nuno Bettencourt playing and singing cursing the unused talent that is so thick in him I can almost physically feel it. I hate him for not driving on the high gear and NOBODY would know that he isn’t.

The man is perfection on two legs, without the ability tap into the absolute perfection.

The pin of his needle.

I need to stop teaching, preaching and writing opinions.

I don’t know how to relax. The twats that call themselves my friends and family gloat that they said that previously. The reason why I keep trying so hard is because I need to get as far away from them as I possibly can. I am full of hate for them. I want to kick them for as long as it takes for them to turn into a bloody pulp that I can shove into the corners of the world never to be found again.

What was I saying. I need to know how to relax, but I don’t know how to stop teaching. I have so much to teach and to share, and yet… I know it’s futile. Nobody cares. Like Donna Aston said, nobody cares about how much you know about diet and exercise until you reach your own goals. Then they won’t stop asking you. I feel like if they don’t ask before I make it, I might not be willing to tell anymore. I’ve done this for too long and once I get where I want to go, I’ll have better things to do with my time than to coach twats to be just slightly better people.

When I am in this state of mind as I am now, I do not care about people’s struggles and fears. They can drown in their own stupidity all I care, the Darwinian way.

I should write about my own experiences.

I don’t have any.

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2 Posts on "I need to stop teaching, preaching, and writing opinion pieces"

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Your intrusive needness of your mother might be because you’re not a mother yourself.


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