Pre-S:

I’m opening 3 spots to work with me in a way I have not offered since 2020.

It’s 30 days into the primordial depths of who the fuck you are and, even more potently, who the fuck you are NOT.

This is not for the faint of heart, nor is it for anyone who is looking for a mild, gentle easing into their magic.

This is an intensive initiation into the sacred madness of your everything.

Still here?

Sweetness.

Let the mystery begin…

‍

This Is A Call To Arms For The Soul Refugees

‍

Let me tell you something you probably already know:

It's time to wipe the God-forsaken muggle dick jizz outta your eyes...

And let the raw, wild, honeyed nectar of your erotic remembrance drip freely to the earth...

As you throw back your head...

Howl your lamentation to the moon...

And give yourself over to the uninhibited rebirth of God, Art, Pussy, & Soul that have been commanding you to {once and for fucking all} bare witness to your everything.

{Phew, chile!}

Because you were never meant for that Muggle Dick Energy and mediocre status quo of merely EXISTING in life.

You were born of fucking stars and magic and the mayhem of worlds being created, destroyed, and reborn to the Oracle That Lies Between Your Thighs.

But you’ve forgotten who the fuck you are.

Well, you haven’t truly forgotten, not really.

It’s still there, when you catch a glimpse of the starving beasts of instinctual hunger gazing out at you from behind your eyes.

When you even dare to LOOK in the mirror, that is.

Because you know they’re laying in wait.

You can feel the heaviness of their demands pressing down upon you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

You can feel their longing and wailing and sorrow at who you’ve allowed yourself to become.

Or not really become, so much as NOT become.

Because here’s the thing, Wild One:

You came here to be a world-builder.

You have been called to shape WORLDS and lead your people home.

Except…

You’ve been trying to fit these untamable, erotic, soul-bled worlds into a box of someone else's making.

I mean…

What in the ever-loving FUCK, right?!

And why? Why have you been doing this?

Well, it’s actually pretty simple, when you get down with the get down:

You’ve been fucking with that Muggle Dick Matrix.

Again.

Believing it’s your reality, when IN REALITY, it is the exact opposite.

And that Matrix in which you’ve allowed yourself to inhabit, for who the hell knows how long?

It’s where dreams and missions and art and orgasms go to die.

Ah… And that fear that’s been riding your bones since before you can remember?

The one where you die with your music still inside of you…

Lost…

Forgotten…

Suppressed…

UNREALIZED.

That fear?

That fucking NIGHTMARE that has sucked the marrow from your woe-begotten SOUL?

It’s born OF the Muggle Dick Matrix.

It thrives there.

Leeching away your life, your pleasure, and your belief in your own capacity to actually be who you came here to be, and do what you came here to do.

And that Matrix?

It’s a tricksy little fuck.

It makes you think that up is down and down is out and that you have to become something you are not… and have NO DESIRE to be… in order to become who you were MEANT to be.

Look.

I know you.

I’ve been there, time and again.

The feeling of having been stranded “down here”.

On a planet, and in a society, and maybe even in a family or culture or relationship, where you are The Lost.

The One Who Sees and Knows…

But has almost never FELT seen and known.

Not fully, anyways.

Not in the way your soul {and your pussy} craves.

Not in a way that allows you to feel safe to bare your fucking everything.

Because you’ve been hanging around, and FUCKING WITH, people who actually ENJOY being in the Muggle Dick Matrix.

{Awwwww sheeeeiiiitttttt.}

And you, at some point or another, began to pretend that you yourself ALSO liked sucking at the head of ye ole King Muggle Dick.

And all of that pretending… that falsifying of the Wilds clawing their way under your rib cage each night…

Has led you into a seemingly never ending battleground between your own body and soul.

One where you began to doubt.

And gasp.

And tremble.

In the face of your own power and pleasure and mission and Beingness.

Where you began to shrink down to fit into the Matrix with everyone else.

Where you began to hide from yourself the way THEY hid from you.

Because they could sense the Wilds within you, on your skin, licking and stroking her tongue across your pussy and soul.

And they were afraid…

Continue reading and request your invitation to become a private client here.

‍

P.S.:

Not ready for private client work yet, but still want to go into the primordial depths with me stat?

On Tuesday, I’m holding a brand new fiyahhhhh AF intensive inside The #GoddessTheFuckUp Series called Self Appointed.

This is about to be one of the DEEPEST activations I have offered in a very long time.

And the Series is on sale for the next few days.

You can dive into the madness and join us here.