For many years now, I have accepted as Divine Truth that when something happens in the Body, it begins in the Mind first.
A few years ago, I had Bell’s Palsy. Bell’s Palsy is a temporary paralysis of one side of the face. When I read about it on http://www.webmd.com (which remains for me the BEST medical Web site), I soon went to Louise L. Hay’s Heal Your Body: The Mental Causes for Physical Illness and the Metaphysical Way to Overcome Them (Copyright 1982, 1984; Expanded/Revised Edition Copyright, 1988, Hay House, Inc., Carlsbad, California). When I read the mental pattern, I uttered aloud (and those of you that know me, say it along with me), “Why am I not surprised?”
It reads: “Extreme control over anger. Unwillingness to express feelings.” Again, “why am I not surprised?”
Oh, and it was the right side of my face; the right side of the Body is the masculine, paternal, God (or, Male Deity) and giving side; the left is the feminine, maternal, Goddess (or, Female Deity) and receiving side. So, that I had controlling suppression over my anger regarding myself, my life and other men was no surprise. And that I was unwilling to express it was also no surprise.
Now, around that time I lost count of how many people I met that would tell me “Oh, my ex-girlfriend had this.” Or, “My former boss had this.” “I had this.” Every person I met during this time knew someone who had (past tense) or had it himself or herself.
This to me was a clear and evident Sign that my Bell’s Palsy was going to be temporary. And it was.
However, especially since last year, I AM crystal clear that I can no longer afford in any way, shape or form to suppress my feelings.
I recall reading one of Z. Budapest’s Goddess books, and she wrote of an ancient festival in either Ancient Greece or Ancient Rome where the women of the community gathered and had a “bitchfest.” I AM long overdue to incorporate this into one of my Metaphysical Classes, but for now, I think I need to have a good, old-fashioned rant.
Indeed, my Inner Cuban Cunt has been locked up too long.
So, ladies and gentlemen, this shall be a radical departure from my usual posts. And please, if you laugh at what I write, DO NOT DARE APOLOGIZE TO ME FOR DOING SO! Remember, there are a lot of people walking around alive and breathing because Robert Alvarez, the Psycho Bitch does not own weaponry.
Oh, and if you are reading this at work, and you get fired, not my problem.
First and foremost, what is wrong with having sex on the first date or being sexual, for that matter. I love to fuck; and I deserve to have nothing less than hot, wet and tasty sex EVERY FUCKING DAY! And if I AM in a bad mood, then you, Mr. man who finds me attractive and interesting and that has the honor and pleasure and privilege of being in my Divine Presence, should do something about it. Like, ME, for example.
And is it really that difficult for you to return a telephone call in a timely manner. I mean, you have a cell phone. It is not like you need to look for a payphone that is clean, functional and available? Or, is it? Because what you are playing on with Facebook looks a LOT like a cell phone!
And what is this bullshit about if we were in a liminal place then things would be different? What bullshit is this? Let me explain something to you, MUTHAFUCKAH! If you kiss me, then you need to be prepared to take it to the next level. None of this crap about, well, if things were different, blah, blah, fucking BLAH! Then you should not have opened your mouth and extended your tongue to me, ’cause that’s gonna get me going and flowing.
You put brakes because you feel something might not be good? Oh, you just remembered I AM not wired for casual sex? Oh, too bad, bitch! If you are gonna put out, you put out all the way, not this half-way bullshit! Please don’t make me SMACK YOU!
And, in case you have not noticed, in romance and sex I AM a Child of Oshun. You never heard of Her? THEN LOOK HER UP!! What did I say, don’t make me SMACK YOU!
Oh, and in case you have noticed, “please” and “thank you” go a long, fucking way with me. I recommend a client or student to you, thank me. I open a door for you, thank me. You want me to bring you a cup of coffee, say please. You want me to help you do something, say please. Why is this difficult? No, really, you can open your mouth for other nonsense, how about for something good?
For you to say, “please.” For you to say “thank you.” For you to suck my fat, Cuban Cock! See, you can use your mouth for good reasons?
Oh, and this bullshit about you want to be friends? Oh, do you? Well, let me tell you about my friends. My REAL friends.
My friends remember my Birthday. My friends treat me to lunch, dinner, coffee, cook me dinner, give me gifts that they know I shall LOVE, not like. They honor who I AM and what I do. They avail themselves of my Psychic Services, or recommend people who do. They always lower the lid and toilet seat after they use my bathroom. They make promises to me and KEEP THEM!
So, you want to be my friend? And you think you are worthy of my friendship?
Well, let me tell you something: you are smoking some FUCKED UP CRACK! And that fucked up crack is making it seem like you have your head stuck WAY up yours if you think you and I shall be friends.
Oh, what is that? You do not like that I AM using cuss words?
Let me sure I understand you: You don’t fucking like that I AM using fucking cuss words. Oh, well, in that case. FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!! FUCK YOU!!!
OK, rant complete. Was it good for you, too?
Oh, before I publish this post, I discovered I have a new blog follower: “Thrive on news authors.” My apologies for not acknowledging you sooner, and in spite of this post, may you and yours receive Divine Healing, Divine Joy and Divine Prosperity from following my blog.
And for those of you who already follow or read “This Is Who I AM,” may you and yours continue to receive Angelic Avalanches of Divine Abundance.