Rosie Today

I have had a few lovers, though all of them ephemeral.

I piled on my love because I fall in love so quickly, I love extensively, and in the past have been met with straws that I mistook for gold. A jar of crumbs looked like milk toffee chocolates through these rose colored glasses.

One thing is unchanging: I love someone for who they are on the inside.

I love them for their soul. If I can see your soul, we must know each other quite deeply. But sometimes the ego prevents the boy’s soul from recognizing me. Rather, their soul must recognize me, but the ego tricks the soul, like this bitch is crazy. 

Despite my lack of success in the field, I remain steadfast and unchanging in identifying as a lover girl.
Just imagine walking around on earth, and it’s like two people are really made for each other. a perfect match, a true pair.

Ever since I was a young girl, I would escape into a wormhole of daydreams. Like, I don’t think my mom, dad, or brother knew the first thing about being a little girl, and they didn’t care at all to learn about it from their toddler. What I couldn’t express on the outside all went within.

My favorite fantasy? My elementary school crush, Thomas, I would pretend that he was there with me on boring family vacations when I was a young girl who didn’t have a friend or a sister to talk to. Twenty years have gone by, and I still recognize the space that my little head took me to. pure fantasy. I still go there when I solo travel and walk aimlessly along the shore, envisioning that my prince is out there, thinking about me too, though he might not know it’s me he wishes for.

I was such a shy child. Starting around the age of three, I would hide behind my mother’s leg when I met kids in public. My brother Jack and I were besties in Tallahassee. We liked to dig holes together in the backyard. I liked playing with his Power Rangers and Yu-Gi-Oh, though he didn’t seem to care for Polly Pockets and stuffed animals.

The lives of your souls’ past lives in your current body.

The loves of your souls past do too. 

In this lifetime, you can quite literally recognize the soul of somebody whom you used to love in a past life.

Carrying the past trauma and my chosen profession of a TYPER hurts my pecks and my rhomboids. Since the body and the mind are connected, the pressure of my masseur’s hands can shift me into another version of reality.

I have been hunched over time and alternate realities, enduring many lifetimes for my opposable thumbs to reach the twenty-first-century Gen Z flow state.