Part 9 || Soul Merge & LoVe Making

Love Bubble Pre-Burst

Feb 16, 2025

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The next time I saw Snuffy, I greeted him at the door and covered his face with kisses. It was pretty late, and he looked knackered. He told me he was smelly, but I didn’t care. I didn’t find him offensive at all. I was practically licking him. I observed myself with dismay, given my sensitivity to energy and my super nasal powers post-near-death experience.

His eyes were big and hazel brown, and when I gazed into them again, I noted how deep our stare was. I have never experienced this with anyone else. I felt a beautiful combination of sexiness and sweetness. It was equal heart and loins. He seemed to unlock a long-lost part of my soul.

I haven’t been with many men in my life — by choice. Alas, my genitals are connected to my heart. My alter ego, however, is rife with so many unrealized fantasies.

In my last failed relationship, my ex turned out to be a borderline narcissist, and it wasn’t long before he wanted to body-slam me on the bed to watch me squirm and laugh. He enjoyed torturing me. He chose to straddle me — not to kiss me sensually but to fake spit. To think that at first, he talked about trying Shibari with me, an erotic art form that emphasizes aesthetics, trust, and connection.

I will not lie; in the film Natural Born Killers, my altar ego wanted to find my Mickey and reenact that intimate knife scene where they are completely lost in each other—obsessed, wild, and untamed.

Mickey wields a knife in a way that is both dangerous and intimate. He traces the blade along Mallory’s skin, moving it with a lover’s touch but with an undeniable threat lingering beneath. Mallory, far from being afraid, is completely entranced. She gasps, but not in fear—it’s pleasure, trust, and submission all at once.

It wasn’t a spiritual connection with my ex. It was heart and intellect, but it lacked depth. He could only go so deep with me and later tell me I had established the bar and no one could go deep sea diving like I could. Oh well.

Shibari never came to be. Instead, we trauma bonded over the Rona and ended up in the jungles of Costa Rica locked down. Given we spent 24/7 together, we did okay. Ultimately, however, we became more like brothers and sisters. I allowed him to impact my self-esteem. I was in shithole San Francisco during the 2021 P!andemic and would not have sex or my own space for four years. Until that is, I bought myself a one-way ticket to Florida and left him and ChinaFornia behind.

So, in February 2021, I allowed myself to be seduced by a tall Dutch man while giving a talk in Mexico. Then, I went for another three years with zero affection or intimacy. Sex and Addiction 12-Step rooms would likely dub this as "sexual, emotional, or relational anorexia."

My ex used to tell me that I isolate. Unlike traditional anorexia (which involves food restriction), relational anorexia is a pattern of severe withholding from intimacy, sex, love, and connection—often as a way to maintain control, avoid pain, or protect oneself from perceived threats.

After a long stint of celibacy and solitude, I was elated at the idea of having a lover with whom I connected sexually and spiritually. While I wanted to be devoted to one person in a world of sheeple, egocentric, cookie-cutter 3D men, I had given up on traditional relationships for many reasons. I was not conventional, and post-pandemic, I was grateful to connect with a deep, sexy, beautiful, aware, wise soul. Snuffy would inadvertently help me remember that I was more interested in a heart-soul connection and the quality of energy over typical matrix bonds.

In truth, I had recently put it out there in the universe that I was ready to connect with someone physically, spiritually, emotionally, and intellectually. However, I never felt a resonance with someone on all those levels until I met Snuffy, which is odd given we came from different worlds and I was 11 years younger.

At the time, I was still working nonstop and in my masculine do-do-do instead of my feminine. While I’ve produced an incredible body of work in the past five years, including a 688-historic book—the most information out there on a historic psyop—being in my masculine as a woman for prolonged periods took a profound energetic, emotional, and even physical toll on my feminine essence. Many women, especially those who have had to be strong, independent, or in survival mode, experience this—sometimes without realizing how much it’s affecting them.

I was a worker bee who didn’t want to waste my time on superficial connections. I don’t do shallow puddles, and yet I crave quality time and affection. IInstead of settling I chose to be in my own space, learning, studying, and researching. As a hermit, I welcomed this fellow lone wolf as a visitor.

Back in 2023, he texted me that he was unlike anyone. And boy, was he correct.

“I'm not the troglodyte of the status quo wasteland. I've crossed the threshold and ascended my journey well above that.”

I loved that he’d introduced me to a new word. Troglodyte is from the Greek root trōglē, which means "hole" or "cave dweller.’

Before we met in the 3D, Snuffy also told me he’d been romanticizing our meeting since we matched on the dating app Bumble. I don’t remember his profile, but when I went to look for it, it was gone.

By the way, Bumble has since deleted my profile. Incidentally, the nickname “Bee Lady” stuck after I noticed several people telling me, “Hey, aren’t you that bee lady who made a film about bees?”

They scrubbed me for simply sharing my George Floyd movie link;

I imagined the technofascist Censorers saying,

‘Yeah, let’s kill the Bee Lady from Bumble.’

I made us tea while he showered, and when Snuffy returned to the living room, he collapsed in my arms on the couch. I often replay this moment in my mind. It felt so good to desire someone who desired me back. I caressed his face, feeling …

Part 9 || Soul Merge & LoVe Making

Love Bubble Pre-Burst

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