Part 7|| Stardust || The Deception of Appearances

Wait And See

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• Part 1|| Stardust|| When You Remember Your Celestial Origins

• Part 2|| Stardust|| When Stars Collide

• Part 3|| Stardust|| Snuffalupugus, Planetary Parades, & A Truck Baby

• Part 4|| Stardust|| Tristan As A Mouse & The Vertex

• Part 5: StarDust|| A Kiss of Life, Guitar Plucks & Magical Kings

• Part 6: StarDust|| Four-Leaf Clovers, Fireflies, & Harlequin Novels

Part 6 || Stardust || Four-Leaf Clovers, Fireflies, & Harlequin Novels

Romance Scams & The Hunter

Only by diligent study can thou learn the ways of Truth.

The next day after our call, my mentor, Big Ant, texted me a JPEG that read, ‘Signs of a Scam.’ He regularly illustrated the dumb mistakes I’ve made when trusting others. His business brilliance and wisdom had saved me a lot of grief over the years.

One time, Big Ant told me I had “no business being in business.“ He was right. While I am on top of things, have an eye for details, and strive for excellence, I hate all the business contracts and negotiations. It’s cutthroat and requires me to operate out of my male.

And I resented the time it took away from my research, writing, and content creation. I had never signed up for this. When I started HoneyColony in Q4 2011 with my ex, he was slated to run the operations. He was the one with the MBA in business. The entire reason we created the magazine and marketplace, to begin with, was not only to help others but to empower me, not keep me a fucken slave where I am a master juggler unable to live and create in her zone of genius entirely.

Why did Big Ant sew a romance scam into my narrative? Was it because I was a hopeful romantic who harbored fantasies and deep wounds of betrayal and disappointment? Had my higher self written this? I would realize that it was easier to believe that I was scammed versus the possibility I had found someone my soul has been looking for for over 30 decades.

Why couldn’t it be boy-likes-girl/ girl-likes boy? And the girl was simply giving the boy a leg up like she wished someone would give her?

After all these battle wounds, I deserved a Marquezesque tale of magical realism filled with sweet, innocent, transformational mutuality.

Big Ant’s text message prompted my frequency to drop, fear coursed through my body, and a pit of anxiety formed in my tummy. I was now having an anxiety attack, a common occurrence after all the banning, digital assassinations, betrayal, fuckery, and censorship I’ve experienced under the Rona Regime — a condition I call CANCEL PTSD.

At this point, I didn’t realize that I had perpetuated a ….