Sometimes I want to be a writer.

I wake up.

And I want to be a writer.

I go to bed.

And I want to be a writer.

And I THINK about writing.

And I LAMENT about writing.

And then… in moments that can only be described as creative dramatics of the highest novella degree… I remember.

Oh yeah.

I AM a writer. 🤣

I only just forgot again.

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But I still long for it sometimes.

The beingness of writing.

Of BEING someone who not only writes but is a WRITER.

Because the forgetting has it APPEAR as if it’s something I’m not “yet” and that I need to somehow, some day, BECOME.

And if we follow these histrionics verbatim…

If we lean into them and BELIEVE that they are the truth…

We will give our lives over to chasing ourselves down a desolate road of domesticated dreams and banal supplications.

We will drink down the Muggle Dickery™ of a construct of a time that soul {uncharacteristically} forgot.

Except…

Soul doesn’t forget.

It’s not in the NATURE of soul to forget.

It is only our humaning state who is even CAPABLE of the EXPERIENCE of forgetting.

Because deep down, we know.

We know who we are.

We know what we came here to remember and become.

We know the magic and mystery that were born to our Refugee Souls.

We KNOW.

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But perhaps you are having one of those moments where you yourself have forgotten… well… yourself.

And maybe you have recently looked up from your own life, only to realize that you’ve been scuffing dirt on the desolate road of your thrice damned forgetting.

And you have recognized that the you who you’ve been lamenting over… BEGGING over… is right damn here.

Maybe you are just now remembering that it was never NOT here.

And maybe, just maybe, you are ready to reclaim and re-encode your Beingness into the holified and sanctified embodiment of God consciousness being made manifest as the You.

Right here.

Right now.

No place else to “get”.

Nothing else to achieve first.

Just you.

And your everything.

Yeah.

Welcome to the crossroads of the Wilds, Darlin’.

We’ve been waiting.

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As always…

Here’s to your untaming,

N

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P.S.:

The Business Of Soul Series is officially opening today!!

Omgggggg, Batman, this is one of my absolute FAVORITE initiations into the medicine and BUSINESS of remembrance evahhhhhh.

The new sales page will drop later today.

When it’s ready, you’ll be able to find it here.

Note: If you see a 404 error page, it just means the sales page is not open yet.

A taste:

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The Business Of Soul Series

A Holy + {Re]Pussified Remembrance Of Who You Were Always Going To Be... As You Finally Let The Magic Be The Damn Magic... And You {Re}Calibrate The Energy Of The Erotic Wilds Back Into Every Nectar Drippin' Thread Of Your Body, Business, And Creative DNA

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You've Been Genuflecting At The Head Of The Muggle Dick™ {Again}

And what's worse?

You fucking know it…

And yet and still?

You continue to go at it.

Bobbing and weaving, sucking and swallowing…

Pretending as if the foul tasting OUTPOURING is actually the NECTAR of your Refugee Soul.

As if, AS IF, you could ever be baptized and sanctified in the dessicated, pussy-closing ideations of who you were colonized to be…

As if, AS IF, you would ever be satisfied with Muggle Dickery™ dressed up as the magic.

As the fucking MAGIC.

But here you find yourself.

Again.

Except, this time…

You’re finally {finally} ready to be found.

Because who they TOLD you were and who you’ve pretended was the extent of what you could HANDLE being?

So last year.

Last lifetime, really.

Cuz this right here?

This is soul shit.

Ah… and also?

This is where you stop acting “as if” and finally {finally} step into the ENTIRE fucking truth of the erotic madness born to you…

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Check back in a few hours to keep reading and enroll here.

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P.P.S.:

Have you peeped my orgasmically delicious new site yet??!!!