In 2016 I knew I needed a new life [because I hated mine].
So I set several goals that had nothing to do with finances that I felt would really help me recreate my reality. One of those was to bring better beings into my bubble - specifically those identifying as female. I had always unintentionally [though likely subconsciously] been circumstantially, socially and professionally surrounded by men and been fine with that.
I grew up around traditionalist tycoons and could talk that talk because bullshit is easy when you’re always lying and in that [white washed] world, tits can say the rest. And the women I grew up around acted like that was alright.
Lots of yes’s and compliance with cheating, manipulation & much worse because [seemingly] money solves all the big problems.
Be quiet and it will all be okay?
But all my problems get louder when things get quiet - my mind finds calm in the chaos because it is occupied. Idol hands blah-blah-something-mildly-rapey, I'm unsure how that saying goes.
It would fill me with rage every time I had to sit on a beige sofa surrounded by beige people having beige conversations.
Why talk if there’s no point?
So I ended up as a marginally masculine super sensory sensitive skin bag forced into a frail female form.
I didn’t really fit in with suburban women, couldn’t keep up/put up with traditionally “macho” men.
So I landed on nerds and believed that was a worthy long term investment.
When shit goes sideways [side bar reality reminder: The Screaming Orange Overlord], it won’t be door-to-door. Digital destruction can definitely be deadly. It is not an accident that the humans I keep either prefer the company of weapons or robots.
But statistically speaking that does not leave a lot of space for ladies and that proved to be true. I did not want to dissonance myself from my gender, but it began to happen naturally. “Hate” seemed sensible.
Then I found female entrepreneurs.
I found women that were motivated - ones that read and spoke and acted.
The speed in which the presence of these people populated my life stunned me, but I needed it.
Men are magnificent mammals that can truly capitalize on the momentum of tunnel vision [+ testosterone] in a way that can birth brain babies at an alarming rate - or entirely self destruct.
But I’ll never be one and my mind will never feel like one and I knew I needed more of my own. Those who felt simultaneously capable but clouded.
I’ve never met a woman who believes her mind to be akin to a man’s - not for better or worse - that’s just a statement.
But I have met many women who don’t shy away from the word “witch”.
Not traditionally, but emotionally.
A Mother’s touch.
Never met a woman who said “no I’ve never felt that.”
But I have met some that handle it, some that hide from it and a select few that harness it.
The combined concoction of chemistry and control is truly is a crazy cunt & certainly capable when coursed correctly.
Seeing women look their shit in the face and tell it to fuck off became addicting [and price services like that can command does not surprise/effect me].
But they still stayed soft and circumstantially supportive. Almost maintaining the best element of the stereotype: a need to nurture through supporting submission.
The gift of giving.
Regardless of your gender or dynamic, if you’ve been penetrated you know you’ve given a bit of yourself to someone else.
If that’s your every day, you better be into that kind of thing.
Giving [more than your body] is great and can feel so fucking good [when done for healthy, reasonable reasons].
But it is also emotionally exhausting.
Silent strengths are no less real and they fatigue.
And for those who feel like it is first in their nature to give, they tend to exhaust before they’ve given to themselves.
I see that more now that I have more of those around me who have more to give.
Especially lately. So many savagely strong motherfuckers have been mentally melting.
Truthfully I’ve been feeling somewhat slippery myself, but I straight up don’t have the time to trip so just attempting to mainline mania.
I have been getting life yelled at lately by those I like [and I kind of like it].
"What are you doing?"
"What do you do?"
"Are you going to just shoot butts?"
“Why” is a scary question because there’s not a lot to base bullshit off. It’s a stand-alone with no leading words or ideas. But it’s also my favourite because it’s never irrelevant and almost infinite [so it’s a great way to participate in a conversation you don’t want to be in].
Moving forward may not always lead to success but stagnation is certain death and moving backwards is physically and fiscally redundant.
Seeking an infinitely comfortable cash cushion will not mend your mind - it won’t even help. I see so many prioritize it and chase it because it seems like the safer, better option to achieve the [“embarrassing”] actual aims.
If happiness and health are high on your list, just remember that ethereal merits must be earned.
Only bullshit can be bought.
I’m still working on my “why”, but I know it isn’t money. Finances are on my list to facilitate priorities, not take priority over faculties.
“WHY DO YOU TAKE PHOTOS OF BUTTS?"
Because I think women have been the subjects of art for centuries for a reason: they are all different and difficult and dynamic but delicate.
And so many are self described as damaged. I can’t take “damage” away, but I can work with you to redefine it.
Scars are sexy and even model models have mental ones.
Suffering is subjective but the experience is unanimously shared.
None of us are our damage.
But weak people have weak glutes. I am constantly working to strengthen mine and judge the characters of others based on the build of their butt.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
I am trying to carefully curate and craft a bubble of blissful ignorance that I can exist in without existing ignorantly. I was born a basic bitch with two silver spoons in my mouth and that hurt so much worse than attempting to rip my skin off and see what’s underneath. We all have layers and looking deeper at mine is the only place I’ve ever found feeling and now I’m addicted to it. Sensation junkie.
"WHAT DO YOU DO?"
I work with esoteric entrepreneurs and off beat businesses to establish or enhance their brand identity and social media presence through structure, strategy and consistency while creating curated captions & content.
Because every time I do I’m told I’m good at it - be that shooting a butt or building a brand.
I don’t think my skills or sentiments are particularly unique or honed, but my delivery and methods are.
My mind wasn’t molded in a business masterclass because I was born into one.
I come from a long line of humans [named Harry] who learned to love [/hate] the [long] game and I’ve been on board with that approach since long before attempting to make bipolar my bitch.
Building a viable brain and business are shockingly similar and so I am in the business of getting your brain on board with your business [that may be based off your butt] because if you want that in your life, I want you in mine.
Because when I was young and looked for business women to be like, I didn’t have any.
But I had [have] a force of a father that supports so many [family members and employees] based off his brain babies.
I am his only biological and like to believe I have inherited a bit of his ability to build like a brute [and am certain I have his inability to stop sweating like one].
His brain has always been stronger than his body, just like his father. Recently lifelong reminders reappeared to make sure their eternal existence is undoubted [and that there is a very real possibility of losing both long before life expectancy is even an idea].
But my brain and body are both simultaneous trash fires that I work really hard to try and contain.
I can’t help you with either of yours; I am a perpetual student in those fields.
But I can help you express yourself, learn from yourself and maybe even love yourself.
You don’t need my brain to build your business, you have your own for that.
But my mania may be able to help it grow.
You probably just need the permission and support to try.
That I can give you.