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Freedom Is A Molecular Flex

I look around me and I see my community — my friends, loved ones, and acquaintances — reaching for something that they can’t quite articulate. Or maybe they can, but the pain engendered by soul loss is so deep that we’ve all decided — in small and large ways — to keep our lips sealed in case we frighten others with revelations of our kaleidoscopic wildness: the almost feral interior lives we placate with pills, food, booze, sex, religion, and recrementitious consumerism.

One time I called Amazon to enquire about a delivery that was coming my way, and the customer service representative, a sweet-natured bloke from Ecuador, laughed out loud when he saw how many things I had bought from that website.

Now, maybe I’m a dummy for thinking this, but if the Amazon representative is actually laughing at your ass for overspending on Amazon, then, baby, you need to get your shit all the way together.

This is what I know to be true: protecting your sanity, which is to say, your sanctity, in a world hellbent on toying with your peace, requires willpower and an acknowledgement that you must determine your own vision of yourself; you determine what can stay and everything that must be expelled.

Freedom is a molecular flex.

I listen to the voice inside my head and I sit down, pour myself a cup of chai, maybe listen to some light tunes (think jazz maestro George Benson), and I become still. In that moment, I can see the world without cynicism or resentment or recrimination. I can see the world and know that I was specifically designed to inhabit this earth. We were all built for this planet. Let us create a devotionally-constructed ecosystem predicated on kindness and care and support.

I hope you continue to glow and glow and glow like the glorious being that you are.

With love,




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