Universal Icing
Crème de la Crème
Individual
slices
Spicery
Decoration
forever
Privileged
ambrosial
Fan club
Universal
icing
Good earthlings are a great religion. ~*me*
I’m cocky enough to crave effervescent happiness for everyone. Personalities of resonance proffer the abundance of our being. If only we could hook up our ESP with our GPS systems. To marry our perceptive intuitiveness with our vicinities to help us find folks who sublimely suit versus slime us. As my fifties aging is conspicuously breathing down my neck, although not so much in the welcome flustered panties manner, the blessings that I can bank on from whom I’m soldered to matter now more than ever. Provided you haven’t already classed yourselves up with these buddies, I see such characters as our awakening. Those persuasive epitomes of bowing to unapologetic horizons. Our audience who consents to our ascent, whether we’re in a high or low mode. Entities in sync with your ethos. Everybody becomes better when backed by dependable interaction.
Ye, clan of Aries, who light fires that ignite a leadership of what it is to be strong, collecting copious courageousness chunks, and the fun of partying all night long. I’m tight with so many born today and during this April astrology. One advent of social media that I’ve personally praised is how Facebook reminds me of the number of friends I’ve got who share birthdays. I’ve even considered crafting a map of what seems would solely be a mere few dates of our 365 that I’m minus anyone with a natal anniversary. Still, sometimes you might locate your tribe from a sticker that they glued to a metal trash can on the dingy, but thoroughly vibrationally lived upon, streets of The Big Apple. Often, as in this case, you’ve never met them directly, and yet you credit that they utterly understand all of the poetry of the universe plus every one of the limericks that speaks to and is your soul.
Even at my worst, I’m best with you, yeah ~I’ll Be There For You by The Rembrandts
I gravitate toward people whose fiery independence entwined with creativity easily juices each of my joints. Someone to free your wilds, flirt or quietly cuddle with your cranky, and irresistibly love you, loathing and all. Those who make your belly ache for the most energetically laughable reasons. One who’ll whip up that hits-the-spot nosh or be able to forage for it if we’re ever stuck in the woods. Confessional keepers. Adorbs mirroring mates who know when to prudently poke to stroke my ego or absorb my shame. To name my nonsense and put blame in its place. I need supportive types around me who aren’t going poopy about the amount of pie I pull from the sky. The perfect blend of an admirable-based parenting, great guidance counselor, and daredevily thought provocateur person. A mushably mocktail giver and taker of apropos shenanigans. I want all the rest of my life with y’all.
I believe in the celebration of worthy selves every day. I get that a lot of us bark over not having adequate hours for brushing our teeth, eating a meal, smooching somebody, or whatnot. While I think that I exist so kindly because I’ve sorted so sweetly these human toppings. My too live crew. Peeps simultaneously on the planet, holding dulcet space for me. They’re like Toaster Strudels that you won’t ever gain a pound from and with whom you simply can’t lose. I feel myself come charmingly alive with others who justly match my style. They expertly pursue or pardon my excuses. An intellectual and emotional community. Ringmasters for one’s audacity autonomy. Those who ramp our dynamism so it may deliver your genius. I have my gratitude gang, therefore I am. Always together is the way through. Arm in arm, you deserve to be frosted by whoever brings the glitter out in you.
Acceptance whispers positively take my cake.
