How To Love When You Don't Know How To Love.

That title tho, jarring af. Love is such a fucking weird concept, but we can barely draw on it now, so that's for another time. What we're talking about is our personal experience in love and relationships or something like it after our heart has been pulverized. Our trust has been exploited and heavily manipulated from birth to pretty much now. How are we even meant to function after that?

We breathe shallow, look sideways and we never know which way is up. But what if we never knew love without conditions? Manipulation? Guilt? Pain? So much pain.

Well, we do. Our friends have offered us nothing but unconditional love in even the hardest times, when they couldn't understand. When we're at our most difficult, when we shut them out, when we snap, and boii, do we snap pretty fiercely.

But sometimes our friends just don't cut it.

They're perfect, but they just don't undo years of psychological trauma or trigger you in the same way romantic relationships do.

I think for the longest time we settled for the bare minimum because we didn't feel like we deserved any better, we put up with the most demeaning piss-take relationships. We swallowed lies, we took punches, we were taken advantage of in some of the worst, most demeaning ways and then we blamed ourselves for mistreatment. We still do sometimes.

If these things keep happening to us, who's the common denominator? It's us. It must be us. It's time to pack up what's left of our hearts and start again. Next time, we'll be better.

We'd often been told to spend time on our own. Really get to know ourselves before we become apart of someone elses life. Their blind advice couldn't be any more fucking irrelevent. You can't just learn this shit on your own.

In fact, when we were alone, we were the happiest we could have been. Life was grand, we were thriving. It's not until a relationship creeps up on us that our lives turned upside down, we questioned everything we knew and rode the rollercoaster out not really knowing where this would lead us. Not knowing how to set boundaries and accepting that the bare minimum was probably still too good for us. It lead to inevitable heartbreak, guilt and self punishment.

But we learnt, we slowly learnt.

We started seeing people, seeing a lot of people. Going on a lot of dates. Our psychologist encouraged going on a lot of dates, to learn how to set boundaries, to figure out what we wanted. That this rapid fire and sifting would be good for us... And it was. And it hurt. And it was confusing. And we learnt. We learnt and it was worth it.

She said we're very mature for our age and quite exceptional, but we're emotionally immature with relationship blind spots. This put us in an interesting position. That we'd probably have to do a lot of sifting to find someone with good intentions who was just as exceptional and a little closer to our age so we weren't as vulnerable.

More lessons, more rollercoasters and in the end we met them in the most serendipitous way it was if it had been orchestrated by the angels themselves. Perfect, standing there, waiting envelop us in pure love and adventure.

But there were still questions and there were still loose ends... Next week.

Here's some less personal but just as revealing content!

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Stay bright, keep your shoes tight, your titties firm and your dicks in place. I'll find you when I need you sparkle kitten.

-Saatana Lee Rose xoxo

This dream fucked me up nice and good.

Heylo bitchachos, do you ever not love yourself so hard and then have a dream that resonates to your very core and just makes so much sense and then you're all like, 'Thanks bby Jesus for the solid, I owe u!'

I had thought about that before I went to bed, I went into a sort of lucid dream/meditation state. I can't clearly say which. Is there really a difference? More on that in the next life.

I'll often look at my wonderfully catastrophic, artful, spontaneous life and wish I was plainer, neater, smaller, more a e s t h e t i c. My bedroom is a wonderful example. Sometimes I wonder if I would be better, efficient, motivated and loved more if my bedroom had a more minimalist and neutral pinteresty plain feel to it?

But I simply can't bring myself to throw out the feather boa's dangling from my light (which were actually kind of a hazard when I was alone, tipsy, burning a giant neon sparkler at 5am last Saturday.) I also don't think I could bare to eliminate either the flamingo or the disco ball fairy lights because let's face it, both of those things are outrageously whimsical. What would I do without my framed tattoo sketches I bought at that Op Shop when I was 18? Or my Kurt Cobain art? Or the piles of Rock n Roll autobiographies and tarot cards next to my bed? 

I'm not proud of that small part of me that wants to tone myself down. In fact, I'm ashamed of the very notion. But shame never got me anywhere so let's just live with it, okay homie?

Not that it's cluttered, when I tidy, it looks clean, neat and organised and my dissatisfaction only comes from some deep seated little seeds of hatred of myself. Sometimes, I feel like these things inspire me. Sometimes I wonder if I need a plain space to create and these things keep me stagnant (but fuck that noize, surround yourself with art and beauty.)

Anyway, the dream:

I was in what looked like an art class. But I was in a plain white room. There was a semi-circle of people around me, each evenly spaced from each other, painting. They all had the same or similar sized and shaped canvasses. Their paintings were different, however they were all using different shades of white to paint, some whites had a slightly grey or pink tinge. Like this.

And then it was as if I zoomed out in third person on the full room to reveal me, at what would be the base of the semi-circle. 

I had an enormous canvas with an extravagant smattering of colors splayed across it like fireworks and a palette full of vibrant paints.

But I was sat before my canvas crying, absolutely balling my eyes out because I couldn't do what everyone else was doing.

That dream was probably pretty self explanatory.

Live big, doll face.

From my Trash Luxe shoot w/ Treanda Seaburn...

Makeup : Treanda Seaburn Makeup

Jewellery : @messymeow.create on IG

Oi, here's some linkz n shit if you wanna see what else I'm up to heyyy.

Youtube! Saatana

Facebook! Saatana Lee Rose

Twitter! @therealsaatana

Instagram! @saatanaleerose

Snapchat! bigtittys666

-Saatana Lee Rose xo

Btw your sugar daddy dedicated his autobiography to me.

The Doubt Monster Part II: More Of A Journey

So, you may or may not have read the classic 2015 blog post banger 'The Doubt Monster.' This one's a fuckin' journey (DOOON'T STOP BELIIIIEEEEVVIING) because it's something that hasn't been banished with the publish of a blog post or a single sane declaration of 'you have no power over me.'

#Labyrinth.

Not to say that these things haven't helped immensely, I just think it takes more love and time and process. Obviously. Just like anything else worthwhile.

I'm not entirely sure where this is going. Let's just bloody roll with it shall we? 

I'm also not entirely sure why I'm writing about this either. Maybe it's so you don't feel as alone on your personal endeavors and battles against the mythical beast. It could also be just a healthy release of oversharing on the internet. Lawd knows I do a lot of that. Links below.

Come to think of it, all of my creative endeavors are my Personal Jesus.

And I really wish it was something I just had to overcome. Like, I went to that first audition and it was as if the heavens opened up before me and in the most magical way I was never scared to audition for anything again.

No.

That's not the case and the path is not a straight goddamn line and my LIFE IS A FUCKING ROLLERCOASTER EXCEPT I'M BLINDFOLDED AND DON'T KNOW WHETHER THE EXHILARATION AND ENJOYMENT EXCEEDS THE SHEER TERROR AND PANIC OF MY MERE EXISTANCE AND EVERY CHOICE I MAKE INFLUENCES THE DIRECTION OF THE RIDE AND IT WOULD BE EASIER TO JUST SIT BACK AND TRUST THE UNIVERSAL PULL AND NOT CARE BUT I CARE AND I SCARE MYSELF. SO. MUCH.

Atleast that's just how it feels sometimes. And what about stagnancy? Stagnancy is a fucking demon. A relentless beAST hellbent of tearing enormous shards off my soul and then screeching into the abyss IT created.

I guess I just thought it would be some grand event I'd overcome and that would be the end of it. Or maybe I would just pickup some momentum and not feel my feels.

Again, no.

I'm coming to accept myself as a person who picks up enormous momentum and moves mountains and triumphs doubt for days, weeks and even months. Then slows, grows potentially stagnant, depressed, messy, frayed at every end and doomed for however long that will last. Then there's lots of little ups and downs within that which can be nice.

I don't want these periods and episodes to represent dark periods in my life anymore. I feel like a lot to do with the negativity is me rejecting it. Is comparing myself to others. Is wishing I could maintain a perfectly consistent line of progress.

I often think of these times when I compare myself to others. Appreciating and admiring their manicured, minimalist lifestyles. An effortless stream of progress and sanity. Even the creative types.

Sure, it can be delightful to romanticize creative madness. From a distance it makes my heart swell and soar. But have you lived it? When you feel the smallest niggling feeling, where'd it come from? Why's it here? What's it going to lead to? Why do I feel so numb? Then a single thought sparks dynamite in your soul and a single buried memory turns into pages poetry and possibly 4 songs, but you're left heaving on the bathroom floor at an ungodly hour with hot tears streaming endlessly down your face and more memories to lock away carefully in the darkest folds of your heart. Honestly.

Back to stagnancy? Or have we unlocked a creative whirlwind? Both? Neither? Let's see.

Of course that's where you find the best bits and if you're like me, that's the best therapy.

Sometimes it feels like my only purpose.

The torture, the pain, the unanswered questions knocking on my door at the weird hour are for the that.

They're key influence in creating and manifesting brilliance. But they don't serve me when I have that interview the next morning and I hadn't slept. They don't serve me when I can't talk to anyone and the people closest to me feel rejected and shut out because I can barely put my feelings into a single thought let alone a string of words. They don't serve me when life calls.

But they do serve me.

For now, I want to accept the dark parts, the slow hours and dance with my little devils. I know they're harmless and I know the most harmful part of myself the punishment for not doing better, feeling better, acting better, being better.

Maybe if I can accept it. The stagnancy will be a period of regeneration and growth. I'm bound to feel depressed and crazy anxious at some point. We all are. But I don't think it has to be the focus anymore.

I just found an image that has given me so much resolve. Maybe it can do the same for you. Not much is worse than smashing your head against a wall with a single thought repeating, 'I thought I'd already learnt this? Why does this keep happening?' Be gentle with yourself, stuffs just fine.

For more oversharing, see below.

Youtube! Saatana

Facebook! Saatana Lee Rose

Twitter! @therealsaatana

Instagram! @saatanaleerose

Snapchat! bigtittys666

Stay bright baby cakes, I miss you, I love you.
You'll see more soon.

Saatana Lee Rose xxooxxxox