Here i gOooo…

Creating things? I.t.s healing to me. It’s white and blackbird of me. It’s artistic, autistic, and BEautifully uniquely “me”. This is Card#One of Birdanity Deck#One titled “Take My Hand 🤚 & RUN 🏃‍♀️ 🏃 ♪( ´θ`)”

Secret? I made it when I was trying to figure out my heart conditioning. It’s when I was healing from the last heart break. It’s ARTfully weird?


“Take my hand 🤚 and run 🏃 🏃‍♀️”

<Ka!Ka!🦅 >

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The Beginning

This is it, my first book about my life. Right now, it fits into the palm of my hand and it reflect’s my image. There is only one version of that reflection, the original. “Me”.

Presently, I am the only one that feels this Birdanity book is worth it’s weight in gold. My weight, which is about 13? pounds of all that I am worth = nothing really (and priceless).

What i want to write about from every beginning is who I have been and how I got here. I seek to understand. I seek love, hate, education about love and compassion to feel.

What I don’t know about is the future for you. But, I still want to believe that I am the creator of my future. In this vein, I have decided to write a little differently than I ever have before.

This book continues then with the end in mind. I want to write about who I will meet (again), the relationship(s) I will have, and even the way I want to die. I want to imagine a different life than I have ever known before, believing a faith that I feel for the images in my head. I want to believe in big ways, larger than a tiny mustard seed.

With that, let’s just flip to the back of this Birdanity book and write the last few chapters. Perhaps even the last entry of this book because who knows if I will have time for more chapters or even whether I will wake up tomorrow.

Before I tell you that story though, I am going to sit in quiet for a time and dream about a future where I’m pretty certain you will be there and we will (all) be love(d) in The End.


The End

After I saw _______, I felt healed. All that came before him in that legacy book was lost in my memory banks. Only drawing from those stories when I need to tap into my savings account, withdrawals are rare though and encouraged.

Before we met, I was afraid that he didn’t really exist and because for 37 years I searched for someone just like him. State to state, name after name, I tried a lot of stories to find the right size of human for me.

He was the one who fit my constellation and we loved each other as the sun contrasts the moon. The moment we locked eyes, he took the dominant role in our vibrant connection and I played the supporting one. He came over, he hugged me, he asked for my new # and he even wanted to act like children. Children like Us.

He was beautiful on the inside and out, so gorgeous that I worry I dreamed him up and I will wake up to find he is missing again. But after all our years together and creating lovely weirdos just like us, he still wakes up next to me as happy as he ever was. I feel that happy too, loving this hu/man who loves me as he does.

I knew I was making the right decision when I said “yes” after he asked me that pop question. There was no question in my mind that our lives would last a lifetime of commitments. We worked hard to lovingly die together as two happy “soulmates” should. *Blech*

He still laughs at how emotional and dramatic I can become, and he makes me laugh too. He seems to know the right thing to say to calm me down and help me find the “right” way of letting go of that old drama we share.

It’s incredible to think of who I have become with him. Committed to exercise of all the senses, I am clean and balanced. Puffing my peace pipe and pouring my time each day into the love I feel for family and “work” in this universal life.

“A small lucky package is on it’s way to see you soon,” says our fortune, and why not agree? Let the luck keep on coming, spreading through our bodies and oozing into the people we love. Namely partners, family and friends.

It’s almost the end of this love life as we know it, when and where we often forget our own number, or even how to write down memories of all those days when I held judgment for who I was from The Beginning.

from Beginning_to_End


~Stephan/ie Bird

~Steph/an Bird

Rev’d_Bird, “It’s almost over”

Rev’d_Bird, “It’s almost over”



“It’s almost over,”

And with that day, I can breath a sigh of relief. My life today as I know it is almost over. It’s not that far away, The End.

The end isn’t that far. I sense it more than I see it, but I’ve observed it too. The world is burning up. It is a revelation to watch my world today, and as I know it, come to an end. To wake up with all this violence and chaos.

I watch the violence everyday, I feel it, I hear it, I sit with it, all day, everyday. There is nothing I can do, but breath a sigh of relief that my life with violent people, and life as I knew it has ended.

But, that’s only just the beginning. I expect miracles.

Pivoting a bit to miraculous people? They discuss suicide all around me. Friends, friends of friends, family even. They tell me things they wouldn’t normally say to anyone.

Stranger than fiction, they trust me, so they tell me a lot. Sometimes that “a lot” includes stories of planned suicide or feeling suicidal. In any case, listening to those “confessions” of wanting to end a life, I feel like a priest to the God of their understanding and my own. I am a god to those confessions of future planned criminal activities.

Making this The End of that story. I am still alive, but it’s The End of my story as it was. This story @Birdanity even.

Yesterday, when I identified myself as a Religious Organization in my tribe, my society, it was a re-categorization of this human. And that felt like The End of my story as it was in all those previous categories that I identified with, including Art, Artist and Education.

Today…I’m starting my next life, even as I seek medical attention for what ails me in this society and culture that seeks advice from “experts”. I also have to really consider my next steps today. Humbly and faithfully, considering today, and in The End of my days and life here as I know it kind of way.

God, it really does feel like I am living in The End. Observing people, like me, do awesome things with this life, there’s also a lot of despair and pain too. There’s a lot of abusive words being used, a lot of passionate aggression, a lot of anger and resentment being kept overnight, followed by long periods of ex-communication.

God, there are a lot of crazy stories about burning. A lot of running, pain-filled people who can’t forgive. Some humans even get tattoos of burning birds on their arms that say things like, “PAIN = LOVE”. It’s painful just to see those humans in pain everyday.

In this life or the next, they can’t forgive overnight and so they burn. And I burn with them too. But, that life is over. This is The End for me, and that feels true somehow. It feels like I am at the end of that legacy version of me.

I feel it, I’ve sensed it for quite some time now and this is The End 

(of this paragraph)

Are you ready?

I am.


(“The Scribe who expected miracles”)