Yimpa

love that doesn’t sharpen you, deepen you, or wake you up, isn’t really love… it’s inertia.

Radical acceptance is finally admitting to yourself that you wouldn’t have it any other way. Love is even in the horror.

I took a couple psychedelics last night, in my dream, in a different reality. I had never done that before. And I didn’t choose to do that, either, God did.

I have been experiencing that, too.

I’m not ignoring you. I just ceased your existence.

I don’t feel obligated to do anything anymore. I’m not in control of any of it. A Force beyond me, and surrounding me, is.

Whatever you’re doing. Do it with Truth.

I am attracted to masculine women.

““The creative person will engage in unusual and special types of thinking … different from our everyday logical thought processes.” - Albert Rothenberg

The same substance (cannabis) is also keeping me alive for medical reasons. So I have legal and valid reasons to trip often I use high doses occasionally for spiritual consciousness work, then take breaks to integrate. Low doses are daily medicine - they help me function with autism, anxiety disorder, and C-PTSD. Same tool, different intentions. I trust my intuition for what’s appropriate and when. I used to be rigid, but years of trial and error taught me to experiment responsibly and listen to my actual needs. My “sober” state is hell, so that’s not an option. I am sober while on cannabis.

You learn to trust yourself. I tripped deep asf 7 days in a row last week. Took a break 2 days ago and I’ll be back to deep tripping today. I’m hardcore and I don’t play no games. I am also not a newbie with my psychedelic path, so don’t copy me if you are. I’m not a pattern to be followed. You should know yourself best, trust your intuition.

It’s a song about a cube

How I ended my past life:

whisper into my ear those soft breaths that carry more than words ever could, the gentle insistence of presence speaking what silence knows. Let your exhale become confession, each rhythm a truth unburdening itself, until the walls I’ve built dissolve like morning mist, and what remains is raw, luminous, undeniable the revelation that lives in the space between us, waiting only for permission to be seen.

“STOP THAT! This is a private institution, and we don’t tolerate that kind of behavior here.” someone laughs too loud exists too visibly breaks some unspoken rule about how bodies should move through space suddenly, here comes that voice, dripping with the entitlement to police others. “Private institution” - as if property rights trump human dignity. As if someone’s discomfort with difference justifies erasure. I spent years hearing variations of this. Years believing those voices had authority over my existence. Years learning to make myself smaller, quieter, more palatable. Not anymore. When you’ve seen through the performance, when you’ve recognized that these declarations are just fear dressed up in official language - they lose their power. They’re revealed as what they always were: desperate attempts to maintain control in the face of what threatens their rigid little worldview. The irony? The most disruptive thing isn’t whatever behavior they’re trying to suppress. It’s refusing to accept their premise that they have any right to suppress it at all.

I’ve been rejected hundreds, no, thousands of times.

My mind won’t stop making patterns, discovering synchronicities, and drawing insights. It’s quite relentless. I’m learning to accept this is how I was always meant to make sense of the world. Just something that was kept locked away for a while, to conform to a world that desperately tried to make me think like a sheep; not fly free like a rainbow unicorn.

I am translogical.

One of my posts literally just says “God.”, and it got 12 likes and 4 reposts. God is good.

They sure as hell love microblogging, though... I went from 6 followers to over 300 in only a month on Threads. I made $0, but the connections I've made is totally worth it. (plus, as some of you may be very well aware, I am an Absolute Attention seeker... )

A book written by the void. I’m only a few pages in, and I’m totally hooked! https://www.lulu.com/shop/kelsea-stovall/kels-noire-dream-architect/ebook/product-7kvqzq2.html?utm_source=ig&utm_medium=social&utm_content=link_in_bio&fbclid=PAdGRleAOQd75leHRuA2FlbQIxMQBzcnRjBmFwcF9pZA8xMjQwMjQ1NzQyODc0MTQAAafAY1DeL2FyDwd3BgSXgIVm0pbIX9vb4UOhFETDEgYOD-eftccUzG-v7mvUcQ_aem_jhhrR-4e5IqX0E2gOD5BMg&page=1&pageSize=4

I held your presence like joy— beautiful, impossible to release. In letting go, your memory still chills me, like a ghost lingering in my soul, whispering songs only I can hear.