First off, I hope you like coffee. I love coffee, but with my acid reflux... it’s a delicate dance. Mushroom coffee helps, supposedly because the mushrooms metabolize it better or something. But let’s be real—magic mushrooms in my coffee would be way more fun. Makes dealing with the basic crowd a lot more... entertaining.
But if you can’t get your hands on those cow-shit-spawned fungi, you might just have to let your inside voice... become your outside voice. Like, on purpose Tourette’s. If you don’t say the things, you’ll get sick. Just own it—dead serious. Stand ON IT. Don’t even flinch. Be the thermostat, not the thermometer. BE the thing they fear, and watch as they either scatter... or get curious, drawn in by this strange magic. And soon enough, they’ll either want to worship you (ugh, annoying af) or—worse—want to be you (equally cringe). And then, of course, the ones who can’t be smart or cool will try to tear you down because if they can’t have it... nobody can. Ugh... so boring.
Or… they’ll try to STEAL from you—your ideas, your words, your life story—anything they can snatch because you turned it into gold with your alchemy. Trust me, I’ve had an ex-“friend” with a semi-large platform try to pull that BS on me all the time. (Oh, the stories I could spill about that wannabe poser... we’ll save that for later.) They’ve got zero raw material of their own—too scared to actually live—so now they’re just stale white bread... mad as hell but too lazy to do anything about it... so they steal instead. Ugh... so painfully basic.
BUT... if they have a shred of personal agency, they’ll try to understand... maybe even find their own path to freedom from this psychotic circus we’re all stuck in. The answer for them... for you? Willful folly. You must be both the weatherman and the weather. At first, practicing this might feel uncomfortable... but also, so powerful... YIKES how terrifying, right? Playing with this fire—WHOOF, what a rush... why am I so turned on right now? OMG.
THIS... is that primal power rising up from your groin, shooting up your spine, into your heart, your mind... and then WHOOSH down to your toes, into the earth, and then... BING! Up to the heavens, and what is even happening here?!
When you realize you're the only real magician in this theatre of the absurd, you must become the clown.. the devil’s advocate... like a cult classic in a room full of people who are obsessed with daytime TV.
Be f**king weird. That kind of weird that is YOU, nobody else’s weird... the kind that’s your own superpower.
WHOAH... the power.
It's sooo hawwwwwt.... ugh.
Why should you do this???
There are many why's....
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who's the weirdest one of all?
Me, me, me! They all scream,
Yet shun the cost to join the fever dream.
To Be Continued...
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