The baby is worth more than the months of pregnancy. I get a lifetime with you. This will be over before July. That’s what I’m telling myself.

Hope I’m right.

If my children ever question how much I love them I’ll actually get vexed because they have no idea what I’m going through to get that and to want to do this again 3 more times. Honestly I deserve a fucking medal. This shit is chalked.

I keep looking for someone to talk to to escape the whirlwind that is pregnancy but my only escape is 4 months away and I guess that’s fine cus I don’t really have any other options.

I’m not aborting my baby just so I can smoke weed that’s dead.

Reblog the 500,000 dollar written check from Seto Kaiba and money will come your way.

Someone take my phone away, I started going off of my toxic father I know he ain’t hearing a word I’m saying but I’m still so angry.

Salem Mitchell by Samuel Paul

To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar (1995) dir. Beeban Kidron

Natural Black Hair Tutorial! Usually Black hair is excluded in the hair tutorials which I have seen so I have gone through it in depth because it’s really not enough to tell someone simply, “Black hair is really curly, draw it really curly.“ 

The next part of Black Hair In Depth will feature styles and ideas for designing characters and I will release it around February. If you would like to see certain styles, please shoot me a message!

[Patreon]

Still be wanting to die sometimes.

Fuck.

Really wanting to start burning myself again. What ms the cure for self harm? All those things they told me don’t really work.

I still wanna set my skin on fire.

I be trying my hardest to stay kind but sometimes you can really be an asshole and I’m not trained in patience yet. I really wanna fight him.

It’s so hard to break the cycle because look how easy we can fall back into it off of one trigger

I had never felt this before. but as I did with anything I never knew. I took myself out of it, I watched my ego as she flew. became a vessel, an open castle for innovation and observation. for judgement free-zones and fresh eyes. and reliquishing that one mental space we called home. 

If so much time is spent learning how to be something else so tat you get along with others better.... do you ever get the chance to feel at home? do you ever get the chance to feel what its life to feel what its like to be you? or are you always changing? seeing yourself from above, behind, across... never in. If so much time is spent curating the self for easier transition, acceptance and acquisition of your desires... are you .. the real you, even good enough?

in fall.

Hating yourself is much more than self doubt. or hopeless negative talk. its being undeniably chained to an entity that you are 100% comfortable with, but that causes problems for you in expression. actually you arent comfortable.. and in fact it makes you itchy... but you cant take it off. you cant get away from it. you cant find the answer on google. you cant cry it out. and you certainly cant tell anyone how you really feel. they see you when you leave the house but they are not there for the fights you have with your inner psyche. they are not with you deciphering the message and translating them from soul to ID, perfectly explainable and ultimately palattable. I wanted to feel everything when i felt nothing. now i feel everything and i wish i could feel nothing. or at least... not so much. its such a huge contrast to be with someone who is opposite to how you love. he is readily so accesible and understand and expansive and im.... clammed. ungraceful. critical and unmoving. he is excited to jump off the cliff... i am counting the ways I could die. and not because \i didnt see the path where I could live.. I just didnt know how. at least not right away. i found that i understood things over time. felt and acted on things after I slept or smoked on it. I also hated my reactive side. the one that was quick to anger and quick to call attention to the self. I wanted to vomit instead of sitting inside myself. I wasnt comfortable here. I thought about suicide.. but then i understood that i would only reincarnate with much worse placements to handle. that wasnt a solution. they would call my bluff and opt out and laugh, cranking the lever to even harder lesson to learn. My Saturn, Venus, and Sun are all murdering me. A swift pin to the tire... my fuze blowing out over time. sometimes i felt like i was just waiting to be alone.. or maybe what if life is really just a big test... on learning how to not be yourself.

Queen Stress

As a melanated woman, and the Matriarch of this family... It is most definitely my job to lift up my King. Literally no one else will. It is me that gives him strength, it is me that is by his side, and it is me that shoulders the pain. Being a woman and wife is no joke. Responsibilites of being called to sit on the Throne. 

Letter to my guides...

Letter to Nut, Mama Yaa, Asase Yaa, Pomba Gira & Eshu of the Seven Crossroads.

I honestly had no idea how to feel. On one hand I was furious with him not having a monetary return on anything he spent so many hours ruminating over. All those hours in the studio, or justifying how another woman can help us… or hours spent organizing jewelry.. I felt like it was easy to begin resenting him for not wanting a job. For insisting he do as he please. But it was those things that drew me to him. His dreams I encouraged so that he could believe them and chase after them. I was that force. But did I lead us into this land? By encouraging efforts that were not fruitful. Should I have told him to get a job? Should I have been…. No. I felt like I was tired. Of holding him up. But he held me up. He didn’t scorn me whenever I said I needed a new tarot deck or more candle.. new clothes, or even food. I know that he loves me and isn’t taking advantage of me. I couldn’t drop the ball. I couldn’t say these things out loud. To him or anyone else. I refused. I was so scared to follow the thought path. He could feel it on me and know that I was not saying everything on my mind. I could not hurt him like that. I felt like it was my duty to love him because everyone else had cast him aside. This world, his parents, jobs, housing people.. everyone. They hated him for the same reasons I cherished him.  No one wanted to rent to us because he was not a student. Its disgusting and sad how someone can be treated like this. They aren’t willing to hear what you’re doing or what your plan is… who you are other than what they want you to be.

And im just so confused of what to do.. where to go. What to act on first, what information to relay and what not to share. Why won’t they give him housing? Its not enough that we are together, that he is with me. Why should I have to hide that? What will happen to our businesses if we lived in just a room in  a place with a bunch of people. I appreciate that he is willing to get a small job to save up and move us right. But in 6 months it will be February and that’s not the best time to move either.

Honestly guys, if you could put us in a two bedroom for no more than $1200/month for a year that would be the best option. Tension is high right now but I want him to know that im not leaving him. I couldn’t. Not without a huge falling out and separation. I didn’t even want to. Do I really have to choose between real love and someone who looks good on paper? All the best men are cast aside, named dealers and criminals. Denied access and then they wonder why he does not want to come in. But the system is designed for this. Designed to make him look like the loser, by taking away his ability to provide he is regarded as an unsuitable partner. With favour given to the woman, she believes even more when they tell her she doesn’t need him. And by their standards she doesn’t. She goes to school, she gets merits, and even favoritism shown purely based off gender. The doors practically swing open for her while they are bolted shut for him. They wont even answer, they looked out the peephole and decided he was unwelcome.. not realizing he was holding a million dollars in his hands.

 While she is progressing and going through the doors, he is stuck at the same square.. blocked by entities he cannot see. Blocked by a lack of empathy. Cash and Paper is the language of this place. If you don’t have those you are no one. But how many black men don’t want a job? How many black men sold drugs just so someone couldn’t tell them what to do? How many black men saw bigger than they were shown, saw art and land where plots of wealth must be grown. Hit licks, did all kinds of shit… to fit into a place that doesn’t even want them here. Racism is real yall. Housing discrimination is real.

This problem was so big.. the mountain so high I could not see over it. Smog so thick I could not see through. So I sat and the entrance. And I wrote this. And I call on Pomba Gira to carry me through. Take my hand at the crossroads and lead me to safety. Take me and my Exu to better lands…. We are doing all that we can. Ase.

It hurts to write this. It hurts to think about. It hurts to look at him. And It is set up so that I blame him. I do not blame him. But I cant get rid of these things in my head... so instead of fighting with him, I drink. Instead of arguing, i smoke. Instead of saying something mean, I’ll make him a meal. I would not curse him for being himself. For not having a job. For not conforming. But don’t you understand that is exactly why I love him. So the only thing left to do was love him. Because no one else would. Because I did already. I committed to you. I committed to fixing what was broken. And I still am. So I would never utter a word. I would walk away before I curse you or blame you. Because I knew King, that this wasn’t your fault. I see how hard you work every day. I know what is on your heart and soul. I know there are times I will carry you, and you will carry me. But a way out of this…. I cannot see. I’m disappointed yes. Do I feel stunted, yes… I keep hearing their voices when they asked me about your credit history, and if jewelry is enough to pay the bills. When they told me not to have an open relationship, or a live in boyfriend. I could hear my father saying not to depend on a man. My mother saying how foolish I was for letting someone in. I couldn’t even say it was all his fault. I spent a lot of unnecessary money on feelings and experiences. And for that I am ashamed. Not entirely but… I know I could have done better. But Im just also feeling like what is all of this work for. The studio. The alterations. The jewelry. Life would be easier if we were monogamous and had full time jobs. But that wasn’t who we were. Its not who we are. And this is the cost of living outside of the box. I see that now.