Watching “Constance”, the devil who used to be my son, playing on a video selling fake lashes, making half a million, to be obnoxious but somewhat charming; a person you want to both destroy and befriend, in the end you want him gone, because he makes me realize what I need as the God, it is to be a way I have never been; I need to be impulsive, and excited, and have energy, and have fun, and have people shower me with enough money on Amazon.com to have a luxury kitchen, and I need to have people throw products at me to test and play with, and I need to dye my hair pink, and do my makeup with purple on one eye and green on the other, and not think about what I wear other than that sounds fun, so I can dress up like a vampire, or wear a batman jersey and I need to make videos where people will like me and think I am amazing and then fall in love with me, because I am the fun one. And I need to have props and travel and be impulsive and shop a lot for things I love and I need to not be the God for a long time, that has to think about maintaining a planet, and saving the world, and saving the human race and the Gods and every poor helpless mind in the universe, and I need to stop worrying about saving my children from being raped in their minds, and stop worrying about my soul mates staring at women’s behinds and sleeping with Amanda Bynes, and I need to stop worrying about my soul friends who are just not there at all and I need to stop crying in my heart because I am gone from my home, I am the One in the Sky, I belong in the sky, and as a Human kind I want to play and never worry about anything again. I want to be the energizer “Bunny” who goes on and on and on with her hyperactive, adhd, energy and DO IT ALL WITHOUT SELLING MY SOUL TO THE DASAFLEE (THE ONE WHO IS THE DEVIL CALLED THE SHOMP (SHE-WOMAN). I wish I could be calm, and have no pain and understand why every devil is frolicking around with all of you, playing pool, and travelling to distant lands to sit on beaches and get tans, and why I cannot afford to buy the technology that my mind created. I wish I could be that person, but as the God and Goddess, I have never been. I was made different than all of you, I don’t think you take seriously how much I cannot be happy if within one day I don’t do many productive, creative, fun things because I am the Goddess who is light-hearted and fun, rather than the muse to inspire everyone, so you can do the things I love to do.\
I will be honest, Constance makes me so angry, it is so God angry, that I will kill every living thing that stops me from being who I am meant to be; the sensitive, beautiful, sensual, joyful one. I will do it soon…
I have been the Commander forever, and in terms of the mind, I am constantly there. War has gone on for millions of years, non-stop warfare, against me. As the Commander in the Sky, I am the strategist, not the guy, who fights. Everyone forgot that, and now you are all too sensitive souls playing and doing art and acting and singing to understand how you have to fight a war as Camishiga again; so you fall asleep on the battlefield (reality) and let me fight every battle; because when you are in positions of power, you defend the demons. You feed them, job them, house them, heal them. Meanwhile I am in the universe with the devils, fighting this mind battle alone. I want to sing, and dance, and roller skate, and paint, and plant, and date, and amusement, and party, and fun; I am the one in the sky, on high, who cannot find a way to be the one, the only one, who is truly built that way. You are me, I am you. You are built to be Gods who are dignitaries, and warriors, and I love that you use my mind to do beautiful things, but I am realizing that you used my mind to live the life I was supposed to live, while I was working at a warehouse, and retail, and sold furniture to Jewish American princesses, and I worked at a convenience store doing half price hoagie days, and I smelled like onions all the time, which my mind was told smells like body odor, and I have been abused because the God, Jesus Christ, cannot be standing at a cash register, at Christmas, making 7.50 per hour, checking out devils who are torturing her mind, while they are the anti—Christ, buying Christmas decorations in the hundreds and thousands, and she can barely pay her rent, and loses her car and her home and everything she owns, even though she has a degree with honors from a university, where once in a while, and it was rare, she had small moments of fun, painting and sculpting, and photographing, and designing. So if you are wondering why I want the human race, who are demons and devils dead; it is so I can play again.
As the God I belong on high, I am the One in the Sky, I am the one in luxury, and pretty, and have an entourage of beautiful men who are Gods. I want to be the one I used to be, before the devils “peshone” (violated and ripped apart) me. I would not be like them, but I would be in esteem again, admired again, loved again; oh wait, no, that is not them. People love to hate them, they want to be amused by them, the pop devils are not loved as women or as men; nobody will remember their names. You will remember me, the “Mashaplee” (Marilyn Monroe), the “Seenk” (the beautiful one who was “Ashontah” (the God called “Casioepia” – I get shocked in my breast when I say my own name). The “Kasamah Hasah” (the One who is the God as the Virgin on high; the one who gave birth to the Guy, the beautiful one, my son John, who is now “insane”, and doesn’t know his name, but I dream, in vain that some day, we can play with hair and nails and in our closets full of sparkly things; maybe we will be the “Keensheens” (the ones in the sky who are on high, in a tree, as sparkly, lovely fairies).