Wednesday, September 3, 2025
An impression can be made only in the Spirit of Love. It’s a playful lullaby that penetrates wordlessly, effortlessly, and intimately. It’s the sweetest frequency, unheard, yet soothing to the savagest of beasts.
My life lacked this frequency, or so I thought. The frequency of love is always humming but pseudo-covered in fear. I was draped in fear, and to get attention, I had to whack a drum, blow hot air, crash a cymbal, and jump up and down. Percussion gets attention, but repels. You have to keep beating it to sustain it. A quick head turn is all you get and attention dies.
To make a headline, politicians keep thumping fear. To build a church, evangelicals keep thumping the Bible, stoking the fear of death. Jesus spoke nearly 35,000 words on record. The average person speaks 860 million in a lifetime, 16,000 per day. However, this number is tripled if you include the words you think. Love hums quietly under this noise. When you tap into it, you become irresistible. Here’s how:
Imagine everyone in your presence in droopy drawers, or drooling in adult undergarments. That sets the “tone.” The droopier the bras and panties, the better. Loose fitting and soiled, even better. Imagine them in hospice, straining to wipe on the toilet, or in compromising sexual positions, legs spread, body fat wiggling, red-faced, and eyes back in the skull. Smirk, but be them. Never forget you’re in vulnerable positions too. Diaper to diaper. Spread ankles to spread ankles.
Once everyone is just an innocent baby in your imagination, then speak. The moment you turn the other or yourself into an authority or enemy, anything but a diapered baby, or a decaying hospice patient, you’ll lose the power. Keep your droopy panties on. Or even better, just let them loose around your ankles, and the world will be eating out of your hands.