My internal world is not up for sale
Not even a glimpse
There are parts of me that are all for show, but what I build inside is off limits

Material chaos, I don’t mind. I like a challenge
But spiritual devotion, that’s a long conditioned protective mechamism

That I’ve learned my entire to build and to protect
Impenetrable fortress

And you, an ambulance chasing rigid lady

You don’t have the right

False Prophets

The system eats closers for breakfasts. It gets wrapped in its mission of being a savior or forceful transformation, it loses its head. Repulsive.

How could I not see this before?
Forced transformations, helping broken find healing. It’s a church, under a guise of some bullshit. Ego theatre for the broken.

These people don’t even know how to turn on their camera on their zoom.
They all homeschool their children because the world their minds created is frightening. Dangerous. Always a fucking victim. Afraid to take a breath.

And you, false prophet. Weaponizing your ego to save them. Not for them. You don’t give a rat’s ass about money. You create chaos in the name of being a saviour. You’re no better than the rest of them. You didn’t give your life to them, they feed their lives to you.

Unclean systems, a symptom of your dirty ego. All in the name of your identity. All to feed you.

I’ve been exposed to all of this dirt, so I know. There’s no need to sell my soul. Everything is a product. All feed egos. But the spiritual ego, the saviour ego is the grossest of them all.

Dangerous to place me somewhere, I’ll see everything wrong with it. That’s when I stop seeking validation and love from the system.

Money

It’s clean. It’s based on value. It’s transactional. So clean.
I’ll perform for money in a clean system.
Not whatever this is. That’s very fucking clear.