The Mages Garden

She was an asshole. She cut me off and got angry with me I guess because I some how forced her into almost sideswiping my front end as she was attempting to avoid a driver because she was flying in the traffic entrance lane.Well, lt felt great! The look of shock and then anger across her face was priceless. Why? We all know a good and loyal vigalante "Karen" loves to flip people off. I thought her head would literally explode. While she was busy bat shit crazy raging out her window I simply looked at her and delivered my vengeance and pulled away slowly <for effect>... It's like I pushed a major reset button.  Her facial transitions between the stages of grief when she realised I beat her to the punch by flipping her off first will be remembered and laughed over for ever and ever. And EVER. Guess it's not about being the biggest ass hole; but the fastest... < the quick. and, the dead.>

He woke up with a seering headache, face head and hands covered in remnants of crimson colored sand. Mouth dry, eyes barely opening he squinted at the single beam of sunshine piercing through the cabana door. It was late afternoon according to the clock on the wall. Sitting up slowly he realised that this was not his room. The familiar and unfamiliar lay out told him that at least he was still on the island. But who's room was this? Scattered around in the dim light were leftover bottles of emptied Pabst Blue Ribbon. The smell of weed and cigarette lingering among the beer vapors. Shaking his rioting head slowly he began to stand. Only to notice that while his arms and upper body are free to move his ankles were bound firmly by a type of rope he'd never seen before. Upon inspection he realised the more he moved to resist his bondages the tighter they became around his skin. Panic slowly welled up in his gut. Flashes of light and desire, the feeling of lightly tearing skin under nails, tasting nipples and skin covered in sweet and salty sweat, a lingering sting of leather tendrils which left dark red streaks across his inner thighs. His visions now unclouded by the stupor of false spirits once communed with, he remembers, HER. That slithering smile she wore. The way she walked across the room weightless as if gravity never knew she existed. She exposed nothing of her face except that smile. One which appeared in a flash and knocked him out of consciousness. It was an inferno, her touch set him a blaze. Her smell was sensuous all he could remember was devouring every morsel of her flesh, worshiping his idol thoroughly. Tangled tounges and lips. Contorted body parts slipping and sliding crashing together. Yet here he was. Oddly. Bound. Head bleeding from a minor injury. Hung over. Covered in sand. Angry as fuck, enraged at the sight of his ties. Dick throbbing, tortured by it jumping involuntarily, slapping the raw welted skin on his thigh over and over as he remembers everything. "But I tied her up" he says to himself confused. Fuming. Thirsty for her. Alone in this room. Marooned on pleasure island... 

There's nothing sexier to me than a man who is firmly in his Masculine energy. A balanced man that knows his Feminine counterparts strengths and encourages her to flourish. This is blissful divinity. ✨️

Mother Nature is indeed Magnificent. 

Utilising only the perfect symphonic pitch to tantalise me into a trance.

So there I was, rocking in my chair in the screened porch. Miles Davis melting my ears along with the sounds of whatever is out there crooning into the night. 

Softly the cool night breeze coils around me. I have been swallowed by the frequency of sound swirling around me. My mind seduced into the calmness. 

I remain swept away, heavy and glued to my rocking chair. Satisfied with this blissful place in time. I rest. 

Only suddenly I am frightened out of the stupor by a hypnotic rumbling sound. It rang through loud enough over the lullabies of jazz and nature to wake me. And then it was when I realised.

I had fallen asleep. Stone cold passed out in my chair. Unconscious to the present world. And it was my delicate snoring that woke me... 

A pity really, my solo performance ruined a pleasant dream. What's worse is falling asleep outside on the porch that sits up above on a mountainous hill where echos reach far and beyond... I was out for a while. Pretty sure my portion of the night time serenade was a hit...

A few years back my mom was diagnosed with a rare form of uterine cancer. As with many people undergoing chemo. She had to cut off all her hair. In solidarity my sister and I did the same big chop buzz cut. 

All my life I had long hair. It's super thick, soft, beautiful hair. But it was either kept in a tie or occasionally cut short for convenience. It was also a major chore that at times made me miserable. It's hot and so much to maintain. In my active professional life I spent most of my time sweating and always in motion. My hair was the last thing I worried about as it was always kept in a tie. 

Since my mama has healed I continue to maintain the hair cut. As an Indigenous woman our hair is our spiritual connection to everything we value culturally. I found that however for me it wasn't necessary to grow it long to maintain that connection. 

I enjoy the freedom of no hassle having my hair this length. I enjoy the fact that my feminine power is not regulated by societies stipulations. Especially the Masculine zealots who believe they can dictate what makes a woman attractive or femenine.

I found that my appearance may be unattractive to few but is irresistible most. For the men who's preference is to have a woman with hair I am not mad at you. It's your prerogative. As it is also mine to be who I desire. 

What I wish more humans would realise is this: You have been programmed. Your sense of style is a program. Your vision of perfection is a program. Your life is a program. Your mind is following a program. It is why many speak lowly of and attempted to erase and dominate the diversity around the world from other cultures. They are shallow, egotistical, programed narcissist drinking the kool aid. Beauty is undefined. It can only be perceived. And perception does not equate to truth nor farce. It is only a matter of personal opinion. Opinions are not fact.

HOWEVER, No one person on this planet has the power to dictate the method of which anyone especially a woman chooses to adorne herself physically. 

ALSO, in order to deprogram Oneself they must be willing to shed everything which keeps them attached to the program. An ego death is more terrifying than the real kind therefore many choose to remain in the matrix. 

For me, furthering my elevation was shedding my hair despite the opinions, negative comments and backlash. It not only allowed me to be brave and present for my mother during her cancer treatment but to be brave and dive deeper into myself. The portal of transcending into my higher self and calling was amplified. My sense of self awareness shifted. Any inhibitions that I held dissolved. The vulnerability of walking as a femenine woman outside of what is expected from me has given me the courage to take leaps of faith. To encourage and empower others. I have become the woman of my own dreams and each day it gets better and better. 

Hair or none, I am amazing. I do what I wish. And it doesn't hurt my feelings if anyone is put off by it. That's none of my business. 

X

Been telling myself for the last 2 years I'm tired of this parenting shit lol... The volunteer management position I signed up for. Never ending schedules, events, activities... Diffusing each crisis and meeting deadlines. Consistent reminders, life coaching, contemplation of strangulation twelve times a day... Yes. All of this shit is for the birds. But. It's almost over. At least season 3 is... College: Season 4 is approaching. 

I'm almost FREE! My mind has gone buck wild imagining all the cool adult things I'll be getting into. I'll have to adjust my schedule to cover only me now... All the exciting things I have planned. But. Why am I feeling frustration? Sure there's more time ahead to tackle my goals. Sure I won't have to listen to anymore of today's "music" blasted on the radio. No more reminding someone else to put things away, turn the light off, get adequate rest, eat... Only me... 

As the day approaches my heart aches a little more. It's a great thing happening. A celebration of accomplishment and the excitement of watching my offspring leap into their dreams. But. I'll miss them.  So much. 

The air is crisp. A welcomed chill opposite of the sweltering heat by day. It's quiet tonight. Except for the chirping of the tree frogs and the baritone solos from the toads. Oh and somebody's dogs are being triggered by nature. Other than that, it's quiet. 

In ritual on my front porch, rocking in my chair... Taking in all these sounds including that of the light traffic from holiday visit neighbors and their guests. I was surprised by a very heavy buzzing around the screen on the outside of the porch. 

It wasn't the aggressive buzzing of a hornet. Nor the annoyed buzz from a patroling bumble bee. Certainly wasn't a horse fly. 

I decided to turn on my flashlight. A tiny seemingly iridescent being fluttered around dancing from light to shadow. Fairies? Nope they don't make noise when they fly believe it or not. Their like stealth aircrafts... Any way. Whatever this colorful little craft with the throaty exhaust is I couldn't figure out. 

I watched for a little while longer the tiny body weaving and dancing LOUDLY. And suddenly, it was clear. A HUMMINGBIRD is hunting. Using the soft light from the house inside as a guide it found the perfect morsels to attack. 

This was a special visit I must admit. Hummingbirds in my culture are a great omen. There are many tales about our tiny ancestors. In brief, seeing a hummingbird is considered a sign of good fortune and success. It also means that your ancestors and guides are near, your life will be filled with times that are blissful, beautiful, new beginnings and much more. There's even a tale which explains how man was given fire from a hummingbird. 

I appreciate those moments. It felt like I actually worked with nature to meet a goal helping the tiny fighter jet get food. And also spiritually; this event spoke many things to me and for that I am also grateful. 

X

Imagining pain

Smiles, it makes my pussy jump

Nipple clamps, yes please.

From this person's perspective it's:

Shortlived hyperfocus on a new creative obsession.

Sneaking in quick displays of affection and in the next moment be withdrawn.

Knowing things through energy exchange and the "clairs" <clairaudient, clairvoyant, claircognizence, clairsentient> no words required. 

Trouble sleeping

Socializing for 1 hour, escaping into the woods for 3 months. <it's not difficult to do lol>

Requiring subtitles all the time...

The eternal internal war to prevent one's self from interrupting another while talking.

Time and object blindness

Being tortured by bright light

Meticulous meticulousness... 

Incredibly funny, especially to a neurodivergents self, we laugh our assess off at our self. 

.

What does Plush mean, love?

The pussy of your dreams, Sir.

Tight, squirting, luscious.