God: Write.
Me: I don’t know how.
God: Write.
Me: I don’t know what to say.
God: Write.
Me: Okay.
writing when even as I don’t know what to say now other than “what in the actual fuck, sis?”,
Cassandra
#YourLifeMattersToMe
Note: God gave me this same mandate, beloveds, just after mom passed away. I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
Back then, I was ready for the words clamoring to burst from my tattered soul. So, I didn’t. So, I couldn’t. For years. Eventually, pen jumped into my unwilling hands. I wrote.
Now, I am not ready for the words clamoring to burst from my tattered soul. I write anyway. I have no idea what my heart shall reveal.
We shall see, beloveds, in real time. Together. Ah, God. What do I DO with me now. Asking for a friend.
Be encouraged. Life is good. Even when unbelievably cruel, heartless, mean, fucked up, whacked out.😳😢😡🤯😭🤬😠🤯☔️☔️🤮🤢🤦♀️😵💫😲😥☕️🏈📺🚽
One step.
One step.
One step.
You are loved.
You are NOT alone.
Keep on being…YOU!
- COME SIT AT MY TABLE 🪑❤️🩹
- BELOVEDS, YOU CAN HAVE MY FLOWERS. I DON’T NEED THEM ANYMORE.
- Forgive them, Cassandra, God said to me
- Still In Love
- REAL TALK: DESPISE NOT SMALL BEGINNINGS, BELOVEDS.👘🦺🥾👟🥿👞🩴👢🩰👡⛑️🔌🕯️🔎🖌️🖋️📢
Why Can't I Be Loud?! 