How do I know?
Well, I've lived with a pagan for nearly twenty years and when in Rome, act as the Romans do.
I have an altar set up to Mars. Don't know why but I found him to be one of the most interesting Gods to meditate to. Mars likes meat, blood, guts and all those things I'm not fond of.
I like the dreams where the spirit of the warrior God is giving me advice on love. I get the sense while meditating with him that my job is just to keep a man's belly full and look pretty. I'm supposed to let him go off and fight all the wars he wants to fight. My problem is that I do too much, wear too much, and fight too many battles; this is why my ex is my ex. I get the sense that my ex still lives in the basement because he thinks I'm pretty and he doesn't want to see me with anyone else. He may actually be trying to protect me from something by staying here. Maybe someday I'll be able to ask.
I like trying to see the other side of the coin.
The man in the basement went upstairs, entered my room and bumped into the altar for Mars set up five feet from the ground just to the right of the entrance to my room. The candles fell on him and his shirt and carpet was covered in hot, red, cinnamon scented wax.
That's what a man gets for violating a woman's boundaries.
Nothing gets past Mr. Ex..... nothing. He took note of the containers of shoes which surrounded my bed and my jewelry box which has been sitting on my bed for the past few years.
He made mention of being replaced by shoes and jewelry.
That must be sad.
I didn't have the heart to show him what I bought. People are now turning their thoughts to self-improvement and I'm beginning to make some sales online. I earned some dough and found these for $10 (new with tags!!). I figure if I don't wear them, I can turn around and resell them for three times the money or give them to one of my daughters (two of them wear my size shoes).
If it helps him, he hasn't been replaced by cheap shoes. They're designer.
The truth is that I know a lady who runs a charity on the south side of town. She made a deal with the consignment shops in the area to pick up the stuff that doesn't sell so they don't have to liquidate it. When she runs out of room in her tiny shop, she'll sell what is left to me. I've so many brand new designer shoes that were given to me for donations of between $1-$10 a pair. They usually sit in my room before going to Goodwill, the neighbors, or my daughters.
That charity is on my tithe list for the days when the money comes rolling in. There are a couple of others that I trust enough to share with; the musician group that feeds starving artists, the police officers that give money to help kids with cancer, the guy who runs the soup kitchen downtown, the shrink who gives jobs to schizophrenics, and a couple of other groups that I send money when I have it. The Creator takes care of me when I remember to take care of these people. When I forget to give at least 10% of my income away, it all tends to evaporate.
Interesting... guess my primary motivation to work has always been to help the charities. Marriage always got in the way of that. Men don't understand the concept of abundance and increase; the more we give, the more is returned. I wonder why that is?
Speaking of money, work and sharing....it's time to get back to the studio.
I'm trying to decide where to set up my office. I'm being pulled back home on the west side of town but I should probably invest in the city where people trust me enough to tell me what they want to see in their local government (even if the head tax auditor and her lawyers have threatened me).
I'm a hypnotist. I can play their game. I know the lines:
"At the count of three...you'll forget the number seven! You'll get it back when you follow the letter of the law and play fair with the people!!"
That will screw with their numbers. And if they think that won't work, I've got news for them. The more analytical they are, the easier it is to confuse the holy sh!t out of them!!
People pay me $150 an hour to do that.
Yes, there are benevolent uses to convincing someone that I can make them forget something that they take as a fact of life. If they believe it is a fact that they fail at everything they do, or that they will always smoke, or overeat, or anything.....we can remove that just as easily as we remove the number seven. I do this all the time.
I don't understand why any auditor would want to play head games with me.
Sigh......
Take care dear one.
Love,
S.
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