What do I have to offer to you?

10th May, 2019. Updated. Time is apparently tick-tock-kicking on my side, apparently. Or it’s kicking my butt into gear to be prepared for… the end.

Behold, me. Look, see, listen, hear; read my words.

I quote myself.

1st February, 2019. The time is now 3:17am, but I took a photo when it was 3:16am, convinced it was a message that my words are the new divine from which you should live your life. I’ll insert that at the end.

Mentor Jay shared his strategy in dealing with “copycats” and “cheap imitators” in order to demonstrate the superiority of the work of his company (when they were starting up). Well, you see, I am not a company and I don’t really know what it is that I have to offer – except this…

I OFFER MY SERVICE – MY ABILITY TO PERCEIVE FROM VARIOUS PERSPECTIVES.

That does sound contrite, though. But let me elucidate.

  • I am a guest blogger on 2 blogs
    • Pointless Overthinking. (here is my authorship page)
      • Click here to read my post about making mistakes. EVERYONE MAKES MISTAKES and if we do not learn from them, we are doomed to continue to repeat them.
    • Scribblers Arena. (here is my authorship page)
      • Click here to read my first ever contribution to that page, which was originally posted 31 October, 2018.
  • I am a wordsmith. A CUNNING LINGUIST. I weave words together that inspire some, and resemble worlds.
    • I play with words, imagery, symbols and ideas. I often draw connections between seemingly unrelated instances. I speak words, you decide what you take from them.
  • I am university educated. A Bachelor of Arts, a Master of Teaching. The only doctorate I hold is my imagined one I made up myself. PHILOSOPHY.
    • PhD – Philosophy Doctorate. I didn’t need an institution to bequeath me a fancy certificate to earn my place upon Rome’s metaphorical pantheon.
    • Phantom of the Dogma?? Just had to put this in here in case you thought I may have had a university doctorate. I only have phantom dreams of any such authority.
  • I come from a lineage of builders. Labourers. My father built the house I live in.
    • This is not a metaphor. I speak of only my true life (in this lifetime) and because it is embellished with pretty words and metaphors, people believe I am speaking of much “greater or holier” things. Or they think I am lying.
  • I am a meta- (beyond) tron (throne, or measure). I am the meta-trope (recurring motif). I wield the power of meta-phor (container; aphorism is a generalised or blanket statement that holds an element of truth.)
    • I say ‘a’ metatron, as I am not the first. Enoch, or some other, holds that title.
    • I say ‘the’ metatrope, as I made up that term myself.
      • I am not a trope. I am a real human being.
    • I just say stuff. Or write stuff. Lickety-banana-split, you do the rest.
  • I draw my inspiration and wealth of knowledge from my own existence, and the world around me.
    • The human body and it’s functions.
    • The planet we live on and it’s environment.
      • The various combinations and interactions of these two entities is what informs my so-called ‘wisdom’.
  • I have never been in combat, but I understand or can relate. We are all in this world together, I do not desire to be used as cannon fodder for some other unknown‘s game or ploy.
    • My refusal to bend my will has been my curse, and hey, I’m trying to capitalise off my own skills and abilities…
  • I am a storyteller, not an author. I relate and retell memories and experiences I have lived, or that other’s have shared with me. That is the network I have built in my years.
    • Often times people accuse me of lying, or the fact that I have my ‘fingers in so many pies’, those networks and bridges get burned down for me.
    • Therefore I cannot prove to you that I am anything but toxic. I lament so much of my existence.
  • I am filled with nothing but so many words, and could drone on indefinitely. I have spent nigh an hour writing this, and I don’t feel I have gotten any closer to what I wanted to achieve…
    • There are so many things to say, so little time to say them all.
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I need assistance to guide my words. Give me direction. I don’t need god for that, I need YOU.

So sayeth me, the one who wants to speak to and for you.

I need me, too. The other day I accidentally opened the clock feature on my laptop and it was 11:11:11 am. I was pretty shocked, but it ticked over fairly quickly (as the seconds are oft do), so there is no photographic evidence it took place.

It would appear I am trying very hard to reassure myself that I matter. All those repeating numbers! BTW, my birth numbers are 15 Nov, ’86 @ 5:55pm. My birth name number is 8. My everyday name number is 11. I live in 33, the number of the master teacher.

Every coincidence counts. Make yours work for you, today.