Futility

Lets try to be reasonable.

 

Ok so lets say manifestation is a real thing. Let’s say that all my prior accomplishments speak to the fact that I am capable.

Lets say I can actually do things. I can actually make a living doing things. And sometimes its just about timing.

Lets say I’ve tried really hard to work a conventional job and I’m always turned away for either being too overqualified or too eccentric and maybe those things fall apart so I can be where I am right now.

Lets say my greatest gift is my ability to write and communicate, but beyond is my empathy. That I rehumanize the dehumanized.

Let’s say that if I do trust the world and the universe and how life is supposed to be ok and whatever, maybe it will be? Even if that’s some placating bull shit. It’s calming but still.

Let’s say I can live life however I want. And my ambition makes me sexy and genuine. I shouldn’t be ashamed of it.

Yet I am.

 

I still can’t barter/advocate/negotiate fair rates for my freelance work because I just don’t value myself…or something.

I feel bad for the people paying me. Like they need the money more than I do…

how ridiculous is that? I provided a service, services are rendered, PAY ME, YES?

what am I doing? napping all day…writing occasionally? shouldn’t I be sweating or crying or languishing.

 

I know I’ve done plenty of that.

 

But maybe this is how my creativity comes to fruition….I just want to be paid now please.

 

 

UUUUUUUGHHHHHH

I will succeed. I am succeeding. I am doing extroadinary things. I am living a life that I love. My inner child is so proud of how far I’ve come.

Now to just get these finances in order…

I am financially capable, and am able to sustain myself. I can provide for myself and negotiate fair wages. I am in high demand for my talents and I am a hard working, useful, dedicated collaborator and caring person.

I help others. I do good work. I make great things.

And I can say no to opportunities not right for me.

 

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