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Blessed Omen: I Asked My Therapist to Call Me Angel. She Took It Too Far


Hey you sexy beast,

Oh, you don’t want that anymore? How about bestie? Big lips? Fluffy? Persephone?

Angel? Like, the Jesus kind? Yeah I can do that, if you really want. Let me ideate. Let me mull over the sprouts of possibility. Breathe in. Praise be. 


Hey angel,

Yeah, darl, I’m talking to you. What a concept. The bountiful fruits of this fine earth have given me the energy for this monologue right now. And the universe’s soft energy is brushing your fine attention towards my lyrical words because, heck, you need them. It’s been a long week. But angel, the world is here for you. I’m here for you. 

And together we shall emerge, literate. Literally.


Hey angel,

I’m still here. I won’t be leaving you. A kind wandering soul handed me a book on the street today. Balcony of Fog, I think. Rich tapestry of illusory tones. Jaded images. Challenging discourse, rhetoric. But we learn. We expand our minds by transcending the finite. Read the musings. Read the bliss. 

But yes, my learning is now my word to pass on. 

Spread not the gospel, but the truth, but the answer. 


Hey angel,

I wanted to thank you. I began this occupation not for the money. Heck, I earned more on the pole. But never did I think I would come to a greater sense of self-awareness, nay, self-actualization, nay, universal harmonization, rubbing up against time and space’s girthy member – all just through one word. Angel. I feel not angelic, but just angel. My yamaka is my halo. Hallelujah. Telilah.

And we grow only by rebuilding the stones upon which we have come to be constructed by. 


Hey angel,

Could I get some advice, learned one. I’ve been thinking of branching out to go on a global birthright. Unearth the truth, a transect of spirituality. And I think that means really, really immersing. So like, do you think I should go ask the Mormons for abortion advice? Ride the crimson wave in a temple? Imbibe in Bangladesh? I just wanna feeeeeeeeeeel. You know, angel. Like feeeeeeeeeeeel. Get those vibrations. Maybe I’ll even find an Israeli pig. For blessings, of course. 

Oh, and have we put the scissors away?


Angel, my angel,

I think it’s time. Maybe let’s change to angelic one. Or the angel. Da angel. Da baby.

I am one of the greatest, 

Is no debating on it. 

(Let us go)

I am still levitated, I am 

Heavily medicated

Ironic I gave them love 

And they ended up hating 

On me? (Go!)

She told me that she loved me

And she has been waiting 

She has been fighting hard for 

Your love and I am running 

Thin on my patience. 

I needed someone to hug, I even

Took it back to the basics. 

Do you see what you have got

Me out here going?

Angel, I feel lost. Blizzard. 

Call me Ishmael. 


היי מלאך,

חזרתי. זה היה מסע ארוך. אבל כל המסעות חייבים להסתיים שכן רק על ידי הפסקת מסע זה בכלל מסע, אחרת אנחנו מעמידים את עצמנו במצב מתמיד של תנופה, בלי יכולת ליישם את ממצאי המסע שלנו. אָמֵן.


Angel, wait. Babe answer my texts. 

I saw you on Tinder. You’re cheating on me.

On us.

How could you?

This is so unholy..

Angel no more.

Lucifer, if you will. 

I’ll cede to the atomic substrate. Diffuse into pure energy. 

Ascend, my own angel.