aka: god in the war room.
aka: god in a short skirt and a threat in his mouth.
aka: divinity dressed like obsession.
aka: i don’t hope. i bend.
here’s my short story: i am a very obsessive manifestor, and yet this is coming from someone who’s manifested the following: multiple reality shifts, getting back a lot of SPs, a house, getting people out of my life, money, appearance changes, life changes, etc.
i don’t say that shit lightly.
i’m not here giving a bullet list like a success story post.
this isn’t a “teehee look what i got :)” this is a declaration of violence. this is me saying: you don’t understand how hard i go. you don’t understand what it means when i say “it’s mine.”
because when i say it? it gets scared.
SELF CONCEPT AS A FUCKING FLAMETHROWER.
i’ve built my self concept using robotic affirming and rampages, specifically those that make you think like God.
and by God, i don’t mean some floating choir boy with light beams and flowing robes. i mean the source. the fucking code. the absolute.
i built it on “you’re not gonna fucking stop me.”
i’m not trying to “heal” my self concept. i dragged my self concept out of its grave and injected it with every affirmation i could find until it started to breathe fire.
when my stomach flips, when doubt creeps in, when reality tries to bitchslap me into “normal”…
i suffocate it with imagery so saturated and so viscerally intense that the doubt chokes on it.
“but what if he never comes back?”
“actually? he’s already back. he’s obsessed with me. want me to replay it in 4K? let me rerun the moan he made when he saw my thighs again, bitch.”
i don’t negotiate. i don’t plead.
i don’t argue with the 3D. i render the 4D louder, hotter, and more emotionally charged than any fear can ever hope to be. i throw glitter on it. i make it vulgar. i make it undeniable. i throw it in doubt’s face and dare it to survive.
THE SECRET IS SATURATION.
not just repeating affirmations like a drone.
but inhabiting the role so fully that even doubt starts to question itself.
you ever delude so hard your fear starts shaking? you ever affirm so loud the walls look different? that’s what the fuck i mean. i don’t say “i hope” or “i believe.” i say “i am,” and the world goes silent.
i don’t just script once and walk away.
i even do deliberate identity deaths which is something extremely important for me.
i kill the version of myself that’s a beggar if i have to.
i’ll delete every app that forces me to check what my SP is doing.
any hint of my old identity and whatever is holding me back is gonna be thrown away, i don’t care.
i’ve blocked people mid-manifestation because their presence felt like a leash. i’ve stopped entire conversations and said “no. this version of me is dead now.” i’ve rewritten myself so hard the mirror had to stutter.
and i don’t mourn those versions. i bury them under gold and move the fuck on.
I’M NOT JUST ONE METHOD. I’M THE WHOLE FUCKING POKÉDEX.
and i’m not just a one method manifestor, i do everything.
i gotta try everything once.
so yes, i do change my method six times.
yes, i do save techniques like pokémon.
but guess what? they all fucking work because i said so.
yes i SATS. yes i affirm. yes i script. yes i loop. yes i embody. yes i rage-cry into a pillow while rampaging.
and guess what? every single fucking one of those moments still manifested something. because the moment i say it’s mine, the universe doesn’t ask for a signature. it moves.
I’M UNREALISTIC. I’M LUNATIC. I’M CORRECT.
and i’m not afraid of being “unrealistic” either, i have desires bigger than the universe and i fully believe that they’re possible—no, not even that, that they’re already here.
you don’t have to convince people when you’re the one writing the script.
THE LIE BECOMES THE TRUTH.
same with the identity death, i act like i have my desire boldly to others.
i talk about my DR experiences.
i talk about my new appearance.
there’s no “lying” in manifestation, the lie becomes the truth and that is a fact.
(billie jean is not my lover!!!! someone plz get the ref lmao)
you call it delusion? i call it installing a new world.
YES, I DO HAVE DOUBTS. AND YES, I STILL WIN.
yes, i do have doubts. so much that i have to reread my own posts.
yes, i constantly check the 3D. but i twist it. i remind myself of my other successes. i twist the narrative, so even when i’m looking at my SP’s new post?
“he’s still obsessed with me.”
who’s gonna get into your head and tell you it’s wrong if it isn’t you?
you are the voice in your head. so fucking speak like it.
i’ve cried while manifesting and still got what i want. i’ve spiraled into a whole meltdown, journaled “this is hell,” and got what i wanted the next day. because it doesn’t fucking matter. it’s not about how clean you are. it’s about how firm you are.
I ROMANTICIZE, I FANFICTION, I DECLARE. I REBUILD.
i journal as well, often. i write down my desires in detail, or sometimes even write fanfiction about it because it helps me dwell in my desires.
i daydream with tears in my eyes and victory in my chest.
i listen to rampages like they’re love songs.
i romanticize myself to the point i start laughing out loud.
i make vision boards with dramatic filters and write captions like i’m giving the Oscars speech.
because i know it’s inevitable for me to have everything i want.
TO BE NIKOLAS IS TO BE A MACHINE OF CREATION.
i am a god in practice. not just in theory.
even when the 3D slaps me across the face, i slap back harder with my assumption.
worship yourself the way i do.
be obsessive. be twisted. be dramatic.
romanticize the shit out of your process.
declare your results like they already paid rent.
build your god complex like a throne made of glass and gold and shards of your doubt’s dead body.
and you’ll get everything.
because of course you will.