The ugly truth about a woman with a bearded butt.

WARNING. THIS POST IS A CATTY, LOW VIBRATION KINDA POST WITH MASSIVE INSULTS TO A CERTAIN UNNAMED PERSON. IT CONTAINS VULGAR WORDS AND DESCRIPTIONS. IF EASILY OFFENDED, DO NOT READ AND SKIP TO THE NEXT BLOG.

What you should know about ass bearded women.

A bearded ass is merely the epitome of lazy, fat or both. Women that take a high pride in themselves understand the importance of proper grooming especially in the ass region. One, because no one wants to see a beard peeking out between an ass crack and secondly, cleanliness is Godliness.

Often, the bearded ass woman will have a gaggle of other bearded asses and that’s not excluding they themselves are all equally fatties. In nature, fatties seem to pack up like a bag of jumbo puffs marshmallows. Let’s face it, thin, charmingly attractive and well mannered women don’t want to be seen canoodling with a hairy, beastly whale of a woman. That would be the equivalent of placing a dump next to a million dollar gated community, the property value drops.

Bearded buddies are often described as fugly, horse teethed and or having fat stacked flip flops purchased from those large chain discount stores. They love mumus, drinking beer. And, from the bottle or can no less. They often find seeking out the garage in order to have rendezvous’s with their car part salesman or beverage truck driver boyfriend, by which her teenage children will most definitely notice and report. Bearded bitches love snack time and cheap looking brick, shoebox houses.

Bearded ass fatties have the tendency to work menial jobs they got by forcing, a now ex-spouse, to pay more money for an education than the actual job is worth. And, let’s not forget how they pretend they are a scholars just because they went to college for a brief moment. Bearded butts tend to live in denial with the reality that a home depot worker makes more than they do without a degree. Whilst pretending, like a high paid actress, they put on the show of being a good mother, when in fact, they spend more time neglecting their children all in an opportunity to drink booze with other fat friends.

They are often known as dick suckers or cock gobblers verses actually being a fucker. Those fatties most assuredly swallow like the nasty cunts they are. The one thing that defines a woman of class is the simple question of swallow or spit? Only a swallower shows her true nature, trailer trash. But then again, fat women have to pull all stops because… Well.. Because they are fat.

Butt beards are known for several common traits, fat being the more obvious one and the more obscure being their gapping puss hole. Sloppy and oversized like that biggie size order of frys she’s pounded earlier in the day. They will complain they can’t feel a dick in that abyss because it would take the girth of a bologna log to fill that stinker hole. That Vag hole is like Jonas being a cock and that gapping puss the whale, swallowing it whole.

Butt beards equally have challenges of keeping their ass region clean, mostly because of that bear coat growth in their ass, but also because wiping that giganta – ass is as complicated as a rubix cube. Therfore, the slight smell of shit can be detected and or puss odor.

They typically choose m&m colored cars and love small stupid looking suvs as well as Ford focuses and dodge neons. They often have yellow kitchens, bathrooms or bedrooms as if all that cheer will brighten their gloomy shit hole life, which is an epic failure but nevertheless they try.

Butt beards equally love defending their brood of children even when caught red handed in a crime so long as that crime is against a more beautiful alpha female. Jealousy rules their world like the moon rules the tide.

Fatty ass coats love to invite grown children back into their tiny shoebox house, only to let them squat on a sofa like homeless hobo who just wandered in from the street. Clothes and filth will liter the living room like a horders house and if you just decide to be brave enough to see what articles of clothing are clean or not will most likely find is impossible. All clothing from an ass coats home will smell soured from leaving them to rot in the washer. Apparently, transferring them to the dryer is just too much effort.

The fridge will be a putrid over growth of rotten fruit, vegetables with good intentions and take out boxes. Milk cartons gone sour to old and crusty condiments will fill otherwise empty spaces and the very tinge of stink will be detected.

It’s important to note that women of this nature are often located/living in shit hole, back wood areas and typically man hate as a way to deflect their own fat asses, ugly faces and hateful attitudes. Mind set of a fatty is merely to use a man if they can catch one but they can not. If they do after say 35, it will most likely be another washed up fatty with a minimum wage job.

Bitter, bearded ass women should be avoided at all times. Go the other way, fake an emergency or out right call for help. They are not your friend and if they want to be, then you’re fucked anyway.

Disclaimer, this blog is written in good fun and fictional mirth. Any likeness to any person /persons or even affiliate is merely coincidence.

Thank you for reading ❤️

Cattiness can be cheap therapy. Especially when written.

Hypervigilent Me.

There is a moment in everyone’s life where we must ask ourselves if what we are doing is worth it. The next question, Is the action worth what you will benefit?

In my own need to avoid failure, I have chosen the route of brutal honesty. I know that if I attempt to be someone I’m not or even pretend to be accepting, have certain opinions or have beliefs I do not, I’ll most definitely fail. Why? That’s really simple for me to awnser, because I know I will fail. I’m incapable of the lie. I think it’s also because I have a strong sense of who I am and how I feel about something or an idea.

If I were to try and go against that, over time I’d end up letting the cat out of the bag. At that point, I have most likely disappointed someone in some way.

Therefore, I have to be true to myself even when the majority of people prefer the lie over the truth. And, that’s what I have found over the course of my life, people just don’t like the truth. That goes for pretty much anything and any topic.

Amazing really, but I understand it.

However, in the particular subject I’m referring I honestly have so many thoughts that it’s hard to compound them into something that is decipherable. There seems to be so many layers upon layers of emotion and just when I get past one, I find another waiting.

In a nutshell, I realize that if I’m forced to (deal/put up) with a certain individual who is nothing short of a miserable, unhappy and bitter person just so I can be around another, the choice is clear. I’ll pass on all of it.

I would like to actually write further about this in a more detailed way and I will, but for now I’m in the early stages of even understanding what has happened.

If I’m in a position to always be the target of someone’s hate then I’ll never be able to be anything more than the eye of a hurricane. I will inevitably be stuck inside the tumultuous winds around me and can never truly escape it.

Unless, I chose to never step inside the eye. And that’s where I’m at. I’m removing myself from the eye and walking completely away because in my opinion it’s just not worth the effort. In other words If I have to tolerate a heinous person just to have a relationship with another, I’d rather just not altogether. I just don’t care that much, and if it makes me a bad person so be it. I can accept it.

I have had to deal with a lot of things in my life that were challenging, difficult and at times down right ugly. Time has passed and that part of my life is over and I finally have the peace, happiness and joy I truly never had. With that being said, I can honestly say, I just don’t have in me to tolerate anything sub par. I don’t have to, and I’m not going to. I refuse to be someone’s target because they themselves can’t put there jealousy, anger and hatred where it belongs, on them. That individual, that one single person, is the very one with the problem. It’s not me. It’s them. And I don’t have to be apart of it. I can separate myself from it and I choose to.

I intend on going further with this because I think it’s important what I want to say and what needs to be said into the universe, but I do need a minute to formulate my words. I need to find them and gather them so I say it right because I truly believe that what I have to say is significant and important.

Perhaps not important to most, but there is atleast one person it might mean something to and even if they never read it, I still need to say it.

So, I’ll close for now with hopes of returning to the continuation very soon.

I’d like to thank my husband, my twin flame and greatest joy for giving me the courage to stand on my own.

Thank you for reading ❤️

As the world falls down

The universe set something in motion that couldn’t be stopped anymore than time can stand still. Among the constellations, past the moon were two stars racing from opposite directions through the blackness of the heavens. They sped towards each other like a comet chasing angels. It was inevitable, nothing could stop their fate.

Sparks lit the night, illuminating the heavens as they collided into one another with such force, even the earth felt the vibration of their wake.

Only a fraction of a second before, there were two stars that have now become one, swallowing one another.

Twisted into each other, they shown brighter than they ever had before. They danced in the night, casting their bright light upon lovers below as they held each other. They clung together with absolute, believing nothing could separate them.

Your eyes say so such to me. No body knows who I am. No body knows, I’ve got intentions of Gold, with my plans. I’m lost in my head, my thoughts are out of sight. Where did you go? Did you lose sight? Did you let go? I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted us to die.

If you let go, I will most certainly fall. Is that where you want me, far from home? Do you want me so far behind I couldn’t come back if I tried?

Just say it. My heart aches and I some how wonder if this is what it feels like for a light to burn out. Does it hurt when the light fades away or can you take that too. Just say it.

I can’t breathe, and my mind aches like I am sleeping. If you can’t hear me clearly, then, I thought you loved me dearly.

Your grip weakens and I feel myself begin to slip. It’s cold in the underneath and I am trying to cling to you, I am trying to climb back to you and you push me down. I feel the world begin to fall beneath me and the light begins to leave me, I tumble towards earth as I burn out in the glow of moonlight.

Crashing to the ground, I lay still without you. And it’s in that moment, when a star dies, she let’s out her light like breath.

I have been punished and cast aside. What if tomorrow never comes. You could have let me down easy, but instead, you let go.

You’re so far away as the world falls down.

Thanks for reading. ♥️

The Southern Oracle

In Alchemy, First Matter is the source of all things. It’s the very essence of changing all things light and dark, manifested and unmanifested in grand pattern of transformation. Essentially, I’m the first matter in the Southern Oracle. The oracle itself, is not only a great story being told through these series of paintings, but also a phenomenal transformation into something visual and tangible. In this way, I’m not only the First Matter but the Alchemist. Welcome to my laboratory.

The Southern Oracle is not only an exceptionally personal body of work but on a whole the entire embodiment of myself without all the identifying details. These paintings are equally composed with components of creation, the four seasons, the four elements and Quintessence. Which, in my head takes a complex entity and simplifies it. To further explain this concept, let me start with the focal point of my story.

There are many names for us, and as I have discussed this topic before, many times, I never put it in conjunction with my work. Throughout the ages we have been labeled, Divine feminine to Goddess and one my favorites, Pythoness as well another charming one, Witch. But, what we really should be called is, Creators. We were given the womb, the gift to create life and do it is that a woman is divine in nature naturally but then there are those of us who are further gifted with sight, touch and power. We, are the true Alchemists in nature. Meaning, we can take many things of different components and use a form of transmutation to yield into something far greater than it began. We have one hand inside the below and one in the above.

Essentially, we are all witches. We have celebrated our abilities by healing, governing our power through silent manipulation and creation. We use our hands to manifest a sacred energy from crown to root and whisper words that only the animals hear. We are not only chosen, but we are rare. What we don’t do is wear black pointed hats, ride broom sticks or pray to the devil. That, of course is all myth and has been highly disputed as nothing more than masculine propaganda in order to dethrone what it sacred, divine and holy.

THE WHITE PHASE.

THAT WHICH IS BELOW CORRESPONDS TO THAT WHICH IS ABOVE, AND THAT WHICH IS ABOVE CORRESPONDS TO THAT WHICH IS BELOW, TO ACCOMPLISH THE MIRACLE OF ONE THING, THROUGH THE MEDIATION OF ONE MIND, SO DO ALL CREATED THINGS ORIGINATE FROM THIS ONE THING THROUGH, TRANSFORMATION.

We understand that our “power” our “magic” comes from understanding the overlapping of two worlds. One in the ether and the other here, earth. We walk between the two, pull divine energy, hear the messages for translation and celebrate our sisterhood. We are not only unique, but yet also have a great purpose. In this world, we are the very last threads in the very special, and required, balance.

Perhaps you’re wondering how a series of paintings could be based on such a big concept? That’s because, as I stated before, the complexity is also and equally, simple. Very few minds are capable of understanding such knowledge through imagery, most of which is lost to the common person as nothing more than a “Pretty painting”. However, there are those special enough, in tune enough enough, to see the very obvious symbols, symbolism and placement of the images in such a way they instantly read the otherwise obscure message, clearly. The real question is, can you?

Once, or twice in history, we were sought out, hunted and murdered for being advocate of the devil. We were believed to be under demon influence or practice dark magic in which God and the mighty band of Archangels were our enemies. That, couldn’t be further from the truth. Hence, the white phase. Call us what you like, I prefer my first name, however, we have always walked along side the Angels in the light. We seek our wisdom, strength and healing from God as well as we silently play shepherd to the sheep filled world.

These paintings are the most truest representation of not only myself, but my sisters. We hold sanctuary in each other and almost instantly find one another like magnets drawn together by force. I honor them, myself and all those before us. I do so because for once, I am exactly as I was meant to be and I am so much more than just an painter or any linear label.

I welcome you to find enlightenment through a higher vibration. I encourage you to seek the things only slightly hidden for those are the things we must all take a moment for.

To know the secrets of the universe, first you must go to Source, the First Matter, God and… BE STILL AND SILENT WITH ME AND YOU SHALL KNOW.

Thank you for reading ♥️

With balance, I’m only whole because I have the greatest strength in my entire existence. I have been forever reunited with my twin flame. There is no greater love. In that way, the Universe has righted itself.

The undeniable estrangement of a pisces.

Estrangement. What exactly is it?

From the very moment I was born and drew upon my first breath, I was estranged. In more ways than one, I have always experienced the sensation of ill belonging. I have never fully embraced that which so many others follow. My attention and careful eye was always looking somewhere different.

Often, I wished to be like the masses. That seemed easier in a sense. Later, and of course after much punishment to my own self, I realized it was far easier to be the lone wolf than a wolf among sheep. Sheep get rattled easily when wolves are present, and I do, honestly get that. However, with that understanding comes the next sense of knowing, if I am a wolf then where is my mate.

Some journeys, are life long feats. Those feats are the exact ones that toughen our mind, sharpen our teeth and prepare us for battles ahead. I can’t say, I wasn’t grateful. If not for these spirit hardening obstacles, one could assume, and certainly myself, I would not have made it thus far to even have the remote opportunity to write about it. It was, without question, those beatings that served as a survival tactic in my youth. Simply put, I had been put here without my mate, and I was in desperate search.

If, what I felt existed, then I was meant to find it. I knew I was searching for something. At times, I wasn’t fully sure what that ‘something’ was. I only knew I had been and was, groomed for that moment.

There were times, of course, I thought to myself that it was all a figment of my imagination. That everything I felt was nothing more than fantasy behind a silly dreamers eyes. A sleepless dream, yearning to break free and become as real as was the wooden boy, Pinocchio. I told myself I was crazy, delusional, and even insane to have such ideas. Yet, I always had something manifest right in front of me, reminding me of my path. Atleast, enough of a reminder to keep me looking, that is.

Survival tactics taught by the almighty Universe, have lasting scars. They steal the most innocent parts of you, to only chew them up and spit them at your feet. They beat upon your spirit in ways, not even a fist can do to purple flesh. There is of course the one hit you remember most.

That one horrible blow, the one that hits so hard, it sucks all the air from your lungs. And, for a moment you can’t be for certain, but it’s possible, this, is what it feels like to die. Your credible thoughts slip from your mind as quickly as did your breath. The only thing happening inside that deafening silence is the natural instinct to fight. And, it’s there in that milla second, that your spirit decides if it will try to breath or succomb. I am not even sure if the decision is conscious or merely one made for us by creator, but I can say this. That blow, is the very one that marks your soul with a heavy, burdensome, mark.

There will never be another moment I will be free of knowing what it is to have your spirit broken. As is the graceful spirit of a wild stallion set free upon this earth, to then be caught, corralled and whipped until the last of his spirit, his fight, has drained away. A spark dies out.

Hopelessness, often fills that cavernous void. It reeks such havoc. The darkness swims around you and even then it’s troublesome to locate the light. But, even then, broken and without, something calls to you. It whispers your name, beckoning you on. It knows your suffering and yet it still finds your beauty worthy enough to yet still, call to you.

I never liked my reins, nor did I like the fences. I longed to be free, but not just of these chains, free of the pain, so burned inside me. I would fight, but this time, I would fight without the fear of dying, because I had already experienced that. I fought now, for that one chance that if I were free, I might find what still called to me. My spirit, my soul, although broken, wasn’t too ugly for whatever called to me. I knew, without a compass nor a star in the sky, that I, must, find it.

Escape comes with a great price, there are sacrifices to be made and often they are ones I had wished I could have spared, but none is the sacrifice if it weren’t exactly that. As I have lived a thousand lives inside one, I have walked many miles, down desolate roads. I have twisted my way through endless labyrinths, turning this way and that until I found myself right where I started. I slept a million, sleepless and dreamless nights, under a blanket of stars, that just might would have told me their secrets, if only I had known how to read them.

I was close to giving up, I wanted to. I wanted to close the door on anything I had ever imagined to be true. I wanted to burn the book of anything I believed to be real and simply evolve into a character I had created. And, I was doing so with great effort, but yet still, I felt it. I could hear it, just ever so lightly, but it was there. The whisper, then my name, calling on me.

At first, I was confused by it. I even thought what I heard and what I needed to do, where two separate things. When in fact, they were the same exact thing.I could not fully embrace what I was, who I was because in those moments, I wasn’t fully aware, although it would come soon enough.

The power, the true strength of the flame came from whence I stated what I wanted and then let it go. This time, it was my voice he heard, whispering the call. Unbeknownst even to myself, I had beckoned the flame with undeniable power. The desire to reunite with its truest self, it’s most natural form was beyond any other. In that moment, he, my mate, my twin flame, awnsered the call.

There is nothing short of cosmic in this union. No, it’s not literal explosions of galactic partials floating around in space, but, it is something powerfully moving. So moving, that one must try, as difficult as it is and comprehend what it means for the Universe to right itself.

It is a reversal without actually reversing. It’s becoming whole when there are no pieces to fill the spaces. Our eyes, were miraculously washed clean. Birth, death and even the after all became the same. Suddenly, just as swift as was the power in which I stated my desire, the world changed, just as we did.

And, in that way, we were no longer those lone wolves, searching endlessly for the other. We were, ‘one’ complete, being. We were whole and complete, but even greater still, we were free.

There, in our greatest storms, we battled together, knowing one day we could once again, be as we were. One.

3, is nothing, when compared to forever. 11.11 ♥️

Thanks for reading.

Pythoness

Flames lick the air, seeking another soul to devour. Greedily, it calls out.

Our names are carried on a breeze, like a haunting whisper. They drift among sleeping clouds, through open windows and slip effortlessly into our slumbering dreams.

Fear is daft, unknowing to the things in the universe it can not understand. Seeking to destroy all that challenges it with reckless abandon.

You can burn us if you want. You may bury us beneath our own ashes if you so choose, but you can never eliminate us.

For every tree you take down, releases a million seeds to grow from the ashes.

We are the granddaughters of all the witches weren’t able to burn, as are we the seeds from the ones you did.

You thought you buried us, but we were the seeds that flourished.