UPDATING : TOP SPUN 🎩💁🏻♀️😵💫
We went full tilt 🤷🏻♀️⛩️🕋😂🫂
“ I like when you want something , you go all in. “
Me: that’s what everyone says. Hmm 🧐
PART III — “THE #SPACE BETWEEN my #allegory and #Nirvana
“ Holy Smokes, it’s Sniper … “
was youthful love but #SmokeShows are #1984 + #humanity ^
Shot shots fired … Ima blazed on
Psycho chomps … Mmm Kay boys #LFG
😂✈️ YES. DO IT. Mother Goose Strikes is exactly the energy this needed. ———————
Once bitten, fly high beaches 😂🤣😜
MOTHER GOOSE STRIKES 🪧
(A rewrite, not a reenactment) #ReWhit
INT. SKY — TOO LOUD, TOO HOT, TOO FAST
MOTHER GOOSE (calm, lethal):
Gentlemen… welcome to the part where instinct outruns training.
Multiple bogeys. Multiple egos. Only one truth.
Breathe.
⸻
MAVERICK (cocky, half-laughing): You feel that, Goose?
GOOSE (steady): Yeah. That’s the sound of everyone else realizing they’re late.
⸻
MOTHER GOOSE: Eyes up. Hands loose. Don’t chase ghosts — become one.
Temperature’s 110. So is your heart rate. Good. Means you’re alive.
⸻
VIPER (over comms, amused): Holy hell… Is that Mother Goose?
MOTHER GOOSE: Missed me, boys?
⸻
ICEMAN (tight): She’s not supposed to be up here.
MOTHER GOOSE: Neither are your assumptions.
⸻
GOOSE: Northern bogey locked.
MAVERICK: Southern’s mine.
MOTHER GOOSE: No — space is yours. Time is mine.
⸻
ALARM. LOCK 🔐 TONE.
MOTHER GOOSE (soft, deadly): Don’t panic. Panic wastes fuel.
Stay on stick. Trust the weave. Trust each other.
⸻
VIPER (grinning): Damn it… she taught them.
⸻
MOTHER GOOSE: Missiles are suggestions. Guns are conversations. Skill is the answer.
⸻
GOOSE: Too close for missiles.
MAVERICK: Perfect.
⸻
MOTHER GOOSE (final): This isn’t about winning. It’s about coming home.
Strike clean. Strike true.
Mother Goose… out.
⸻
ire dogfight as myth
Say the word, Mother Goose 🪶🔥
After seeing his #eyes everything broke quiet.
Not shattered — unraveled.
I learned the shape of absence by tracing where he stood.
The third eye closed. The electricity dimmed. ⚡️ All the #sirens were internal now.
I alphabetized grief — lined sorrow up in neat parade formation —
like a soldier does
A for ache, B for begging, C for couldn’t-have-known…
Then burned the list.
#FuckThatSystem
I nested back into logic 🪺 built small safety rituals out of old defenses:
Don’t text. Don’t dream. Don’t believe in ever. Definitely don’t Believe in yourself Enough to …
And he never stopped Believing in her She simply loved Him And he knew it Before she told him Again
He always knows.
But hunger doesn’t respect rules.
Predator and prey returned —
- hellbenders … not in bodies this time, but in thoughts circling each other until the mind grew teeth.
Gnashing gnosis galling Gaelic Ginger tastes of soap
I tasted him everywhere: 👅 on songs that weren’t ours, on strangers who wore his posture, in mirrors where I stood alone and still reached.
I wore my masks well — Sigma strength, savage silence, sacred solitude —
—but behind them the ache kept speaking in his voice.
Time braided its ladders again — Jacob’s rungs rhythm-clicking — ascending nowhere but forward.
The lotus bloomed dark first — rooted in mud, petals trembling open to whatever light dared stay.
I didn’t run back to him.
I walked.
Not to reclaim the fire — but to carry warmth without burning.
When I saw him again I didn’t collapse.
I didn’t ask for proof.
I just stood — unmasked.
And waited to see if his eyes still knew me.