Sylvanna Devlin

I think I’ve crafted some confusion.

I do have books intended to help others. Fiction to communicate, Non-fiction to relate.

But kindly sod off when planning to be around me in person.

Well that’s a bit harsh.

I want to be alone with my writing and my cat. I mutter but don’t really have need of conversation. I’m done.

Could that be not around anyone else save one?

Well my idea of a hot Date is holing up under bed covers with delivered restaurant food, a big laptop screen and a movie. Some even stream new ones.

I do miss physical contact. I’m very touch oriented in the way I communicate and receive love.

But I’m not holding my breath.

Groceries can be delivered. Clothing. Anything really. I look like I do for my own satisfaction. I dress nicely, wax, have nice nails, try to be relatively pretty. Because I like it.

My fragrance sensitivity friendly perfume oil is worn every day. I look after myself and intend to improve weight loss, physical fitness,dental work, contacts and if it was only safe to have a shower!

Put myself together.

But I don’t go anywhere, am not headed to a party, don’t need anymore adventures. I really am doing this because I feel better looking good but am fine with pictures and video appointments.

I suppose in a year or so I could vlog.

I do really want to help the world see itself differently. But some don’t want that. And some grow hostile and some grow curious when I talk about an approach.

I have to pay attention to my past. My favorite walk was alone in foggy woods, my most successful environment was writing quietly by myself, and I enjoyed being the only person in the movie theater, if we go further back? The quiet of a stage when it’s naked and there’s no audience.

What I miss most about my relationship was waking up early, giving the sleeping soul a hug then I went and made him breakfast and a packed lunch.

I would then write in the morning at an hour most find indecent.

Physical contact is important to me. But conversation isn’t. Putting myself together makes me happy. Going anywhere around other people is unappealing. Dancing for an audience of one sounds very romantic

So if someone entered my life who wants to be with me but doesn’t really want to be around others? I could easily see not being around others together.

This was the gaslighting:

So some asshole tied to abuse you into being a willing sex slave. (According to gaslighting)

And other assholes are pretty sure rapists will be interested (that’s probably true – that they would believe it)

Like trying to do some dominance crap isn’t actually their motivation.

And I’m ferocious as fuck regardless of sexual anything..

Since my sex life was a popular topic despite not having one.

The nerves headed to the prime spot were severed during surgery last year. A necessary pain block that took time and encouragement to heal.

My inner thighs were numb. My good buttons didn’t respond at first. And although I really needed to have some form of sexual function, I neglected encouraging sensations back a little.

I tried once in a while but felt like the whole world was watching – and likely holding up a scoreboard for underwhelming responsivity (made up word with obvious meaning)

And although “corking” usually helped get me through stressful times. Just sitting on something without doing anything seemed it would get commented on.

And it was was.

As for my libido going back to normal despite arousal issues? Apparently that must mean I’m male – according to the (likely frigid) bitch outside.

Um, ladies. I literally just finished my monthly menses last week.

(If they can’t figure that out nothing will help them.)

I really think my sexuality would be wasted on non-consensual sex. Which is why someone really attempted to condition me into thinking it was consensual and that scuppered masturbating for a while.

No thank you.

But that was quite a while ago and their fuckery tapped into it.

Since I declared myself a future rockstar survivor, I relaxed and literally did what I wanted – despite the peanut gallery complaining about my “behavior”.

I decided it didn’t really matter that women can’t stop complaining about me. Even if I’m quiet.

But then they insisted I don’t fart correctly. Breath correctly. And they don’t like my blood flow!

Treating someone who escaped real trafficking as a slave? No consent? No agenda? Just fuckery?

Yeah…..

Assholess

In reality i’m sure stupid bitches saw my body and just thought dollar signs, thus they would get interested in the idea of anything spicy

Almost.

However

Consent is the first topic in all kinky activity.

Men frequently quietly think “I’d tap that” and would likely help me escape and call the cops.

Not even joking. I’m hot in bed and one would become very interested in a more private situation with guaranteed regularity.

That’s if he could convince me to give him a go. And bastion of ill repute is not a good start.

That’s what they really said they were trying to do. Roping in a real former victim without her consent for the lols. It was just exceptionally stupid gaslighting.

But they were just playing around. Fucking with my head, torturing me. But somehow unable to grasp that though they might not be in the real world – their damage is!

Oh yeah. By the way. Though some men can be encouraged to turn up the heat with a few extra actions? A lot of people seem to think sex is a bit of ho-hum in and out and done.

Oh no. It can be so much better.

However I’m emotionally unavailable and I need an emotional bond.

Yeah….

Consent matters.

As an aside. Yes. Fine. I’m a closet sub. But I would really need to trust someone to allow it and that much trust is synonymous with love. I really don’t worry over looks or even demeanor. Just how much I can trust someone. The more I trust the more in love I become. And that bond becomes unbreakable so long as that trust isn’t betrayed.

Now knaff off with your stupid questions. Trust comes in loving, respectful, committed relationships. Or unusual bonds of friendship.

And If I don’t trust you – or worse can’t?

Fuck off!

Looking at you, blonde-y

So that was all a stupid idea.

It’s easier not to talk about suicide all day if I don’t hear “Kill yourself” all day.

Recently my energy exploded because I felt someone with the aura as potent as a Rinpoche had been born.

As much as I’ve been pushed to leadership I just wasn’t ready for?

I am not on the level of a Rinpoche

And I’m not able to be.

I am a spiritually inclined philosopher. At least I was

I could provide atheist friendly perspective that also be the spiritual structure to help someone if they seek actual spiritual guidance.

I am not as enlightened as a Rinpoche.

I’m not sure I could be.

So if it turns out I was rude to someone on par as a Rinpoche? That I had been manipulated into believing he was not one? That, blocked off as I am, I scolded someone else for saying they were?

I consider it basically like rebuking a living god. As the closest analogy I can think of.

I honestly not sure I should bother staying alive

I would apologize profusely if I knew he was real. But I’m not sure I can live with myself unless he forgives me.

I’m not exaggerating.

He is indeed that important.

He doesn’t need my approval. I need his.

I was once at least connected enough sensing a birth (probably along with others) would be something someone could see.

But as hard as I have tried to hold on

Now I am not

The story they are going with is they didn’t realize they were actually hurting me and thought I was just acting and refusing to follow direction in a “Role Playing game”

They kept saying come back to reality but were so disconnected from the real world they had no concept of actual real consequences?

That I had to be an actress because I looked like one and spoke with determination and when I was dying….

In the real world dying.

I bellowed and sang.

That no one is actually that smart my backstory was too hard to believe. That It’s not possible I’m a real person.

I don’t know what to scream out that they are so stupid they bashed me with cognitive abuse because I was either a washed up actress – or to the person who did actually know it was real but were cashing in:

Some fat, disabled, homeless woman with bad teeth.

(Since you are all so stupid. No I don’t believe I’m a fire breathing serpent. It’s a fucking metaphor)

Could you please pause on bad interpretations, reading in to private words you don’t understand or have context on. But think that since it’s vaguely the same language your perspective is the correct one.

From the amount I’ve been attacked. I doubt many understand.

Some are furious that one who has to choose compassion has anything to say. As true compassion radiates from the soul.

And that’s true. At the root it should.

But if life stamps it out it becomes a choice

Some people think I’m waiting for Christ. I’m not. He was already here thousands of years ago.

I seek a reborn Rinpoche

Not the first one.

If you don’t know what that means it’s probably because the English language is not always helpful.

The Dali lama is the most sacred individual there could be. But in Tibetan Buddhism there are people who came back to help and they are called lamas

A Rinpoche was fundamental to my very being.

There is someone out there I am indeed waiting for. Not a romantic partner, not sexual and saying spiritual conjures soul mates and that not it either.

The person is like family.

Everyone’s

The person I am waiting for is not because I seek a relationship. But to a leader.

The right person to help heal this world has been born. I’m not sure when where he is. But he’s young and the world needs him but he might be able to use a western perspective.

Western words for whatever he wants me to communicate. I’m a gifted writer. My spiritual insights are more that of a approach. The words for the soul will be ones another asks me to share. If that comes to pass.

I have work to write. Words to express while I wait. And they may be enough. I might not be alive when that book becomes useful to him.

But I am indeed no leader. My place is to help lift one up with my writing.

And is my mathematical aptitude wasted?

Well my instinct for probably theory has made some believe I’m psychic. To cope with what is happening I’ve “boiled ” my brain to dodge and recover from what is going on.

And I’m out of ideas, predictions, ability to land on my feet, or even arse down but not dead!

I’m a sitting duck for being mentally side swiped. And everyone in the building knows.

So in the event I don’t survive this?

What is so important about mathematics anyway,, are you ever going to need it?

The modern world is built on mathematics.

And everything rests on the work of Alan Turing.

One person really did lead to the modern world based on mathematics.

And that’s Alan Turing.

And

A mathematical mind can seem supernatural in an emergency if the instinct for probability theory is powerful enough.

And realize what you have actually set in motion?

Please survive. Because the only way I can make it. Is to know that though it’s going to be a little rough. (Understatement),

Because the only thing I now want in the world is to not let you craft me into a monster.

So apparently I’m a selfish bitch because that’s not real compassion or what poorly thought out perspective.

Is when you can turn a disadvantage into an advantage.

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Said by a stranger “Please don’t address [me] she has the heart of obsidian right now”

I like that one

Now think about why/