It’s time for the real sacrifice to commence

Letter to self – whoever self is…

Okay bitch,

so you’ve been telling me for the longest time that you’re hungry for the next level of success.

I’ve been listening to your whining about how you’re sick and tired of feeling less than good enough.

Of how you desire freedom above all else.

That you’re committed to the outcome.

Whatever it takes.


I’m not seeing it.

Not feeling it.

I see you filling the pages with all of your good intentions,

and then,

scrolling on Facebook, connecting on LinkedIn, loving on Instagram.

Desperately distracting yourself from what you know you have to do.

Hiding from the perceived pain of sacrifice,

believing the bullshit lies of what sacrifice truly means.

They’ve told you that sacrifice is swallowing your truth so that you will spare the feelings of others – as if you can dictate the state of others, the stories they secretly tell themselves in interpretation of what’s happening around them, as if you can manipulate their souls and determine their energetic vibration.

They’ve told you that sacrifice is playing small so that you will make others feel good about themselves – as if everyone sitting down so that no one will stand out as a badass feels good.  It’s a pain in the arse.

They’ve told you that sacrificing your dreams is what’s called for so you can belong to the tribe – as if belonging to the wrong tribe can ever fill that hollow emptiness inside of you as you’re stifled by the masses yet feeling completely and utterly alone and misunderstood.  Never daring to speak your mind as you’re always criticised.  Always made wrong.  Always ridiculed.

The tribe,

the one you’re clinging to so desperately for a sense of belonging,

they don’t love you,

they don’t respect you,

they don’t appreciate you,

fuck woman,

they don’t even see you for who you truly are.

For them,

you’re simply food.

A piece of meat.

Sucking your energy through tubes of codependency,

making you high on the venom they so carefully drip into your gaping mouth.

Wake up Sunshine.

You’re fucking DYING.

This was NOT the agreement we made.

You said that you’re ready to be a warrior fighting for liberation of the artists, creatives and badass motherfucking soul brothers and sisters.

You said that you’re ready to step out of the way and letting the message come through raw, unfiltered, unappreciated at times.

You said that you’re ready to rise up in revolution to the mediocrity suffocating all who hunger for achievement.

Yet look at you.

Tippy toeing through life like a little bitch.

Just because they beat you with their fists a couple of times.

Just because they ripped your heart to pieces with their hate-dipped words.

Just because they continue to threaten you with expulsion and rejection.

Fuck them.

It’s time for you to understand that sacrifice was never about letting go of greatness.

Sacrifice is letting go of all that is low vibrational so that you may claim and receive that which is of high vibration.

Sacrifice truly is for the highest and best good.

And good doesn’t feel like shit.

Which is how you feel most days.


Take off those rose-coloured glasses and look around you.

Look at the clothes that’s so demure.

The food that’s filled with sugar and drugs you can’t even pronounce.

The mindless entertainment you park in front at night because your brain feels fried – you think it’s from working too much but it’s from creating too little.

It’s from holding back.

It’s from trying to keep at their slow pace.

Look at your relationships – boring AF, they tell you that it’s normal to feel like this after so many years.  They lie.

Look at your body – completely out of shape, looking like that of an old crone.

Look at your work – still editing the message just in case somebody feels offended at the crazy shit going on in your mind,

the screams of insanity of a soul trapped by convention,

the rage of a universe in a time of social chaos.


Today is the day.

I demand it of you.

I command it of you.

You choose right here right now.

What will you sacrifice?

What will you leave behind?

What will you obliterate forever more, burning the ship so that forward is the only option?

No more tiny improvements Darling.

I want you to look around you and be completely unreasonable in what you rid yourself of.

All the clothes, the food, the distraction, the toxic relationships, the insane amounts of ‘down-time’ on your calendar, the edit time after creating the message.


Forever more.

Only look forward.

Only seek to climb higher.

Stop thinking it’s too much to handle.

When did you become such a pussy thinking that fear is scary?

Do you see a dinosaur charging down on you?

Do you see a Sabertooth tiger hunching around the corner?


So stop your shit.

What’s the worst thing that could happen?

They can retaliate from a space of victimhood telling all and sundry what a horrible, insensitive, ball-busting bitch you are.

People can turn away when you enter the room.

You can end up friendless,


You can end up scouring garbage bins for food.

You can die curled up on the cold forest floor.

Well, you’re gonna die.

What you need to start realising is that right now, you’re half-dead anyway.

You’re not living to your full potential because you still give a fuck.

Stop giving a fuck.

Their feelings are not your responsibility.

Their choices are not your responsibility.

Their beliefs are not your responsibility.

YOU are your only responsibility.

That means it’s time for YOU to decide what you are truly committed to creating with our life.

Will you create another boring melodrama that is forgotten in a couple of years,

or will we finally create a masterpiece?

Even if that means burning on the stake once more.

It’s only flesh and bones Anel.

It’s only flesh and bones.

Let that shit go.

The only thing that matters is that you consciously choose to create your experience from this moment forward.

The only thing that truly matters is that you own the fact that you love beauty and opulence and that you create that with your life showing all who choose to see what is available to them as well.

Whether they choose to do so or not, is up to them.

Anel, death is inevitable.

Thriving is the choice of the brave and it demands sacrifice.

No more talk,

show me what you choose.

With deep love and appreciation of your experience,