The following is a work in progress that will be a part of a book or a project, or a something as soon as the right offer comes around.
I met a man at a cafe once, who I thought of as my “best” friend. I don’t use that term anymore, because much like the word “perfect” best assumes that the high expectations you have for the people around you, are going to be expectations that people are genuinely interested in living up to.
And the ironic thing is that when you tell them “hey, I don’t want to be friends anymore, because you’re terrible as a person, in like the worst ways,” then they somehow find ways to explain away their toxicity with the expectations that you will somehow fill their bank accounts and protect their children, even as they leave you to die.
“Hey DON’T forget if you LIVE I get ten percent.”
And what happens if I die? Do you know that scene in The Help when one of the Black women gives the white woman she works for a shit pie? I’ve been eating shit pie my entire life, and not because I deserved it, but because I have been SURROUNDED by white men and women.
ALL of whom expected me to raise their children, teach them how to read, change diapers, etc. clean their homes, and then give up my own life to spend time with them because they’re “bored” cause they can’t go out and party.
“What’s 10% of nothing?” – That’s precisely what you get for underestimating the girl known as Devon J Hall.
Because of the abuse that I went through, I have a hard time having children, but because of that, I’ve also spent a lot of time after losing my first almost love, that I wasn’t going to have children until my body, mind, and soul, were absolutely lazy. No matter how big or how small, whether your child is born or not, the loss of a child, is absolutely mind numbing.
That being said, LMBG in a very real way is my baby, and as I dream of the day that someone knocks on my door and says “here’s the first in 10 deliveries of a bag full of cash,” I think about what I want my future to be.
I don’t know if I see children, there are children on this planet that I love, one or two in the building, a few more scattered across my past, and given the chance I WOULD like to do something for them if I ever can…but not because their toxic parents think that I owe them something.
Too many people think that because you happened to travel in the same circles at one point in your life, the people who are seemingly more “successful,” than you, suddenly owe it to you, to take care of them because they worked their asses off to achieve their dreams.
Too many people in this world want to go around being absolutely horrible, and then expecting that their skin color, or what’s between their legs, is going to make up for the fact that they were REALLY awful at being humans.
Do you know how many white men I know who think that they are a sexual God? I have made myself orgasm for hours, and I mean HOURS, while sitting on the couch not even touching myself, and I did it because I’m a master at making myself orgasm. So with that being said, can someone please tell me why women need men on this earth?
There are – and I’ve said this before – enough sperm banks that women who want to have babies – men who want to have babies, ANYONE who wants to raise a child in a safe predator free home, can do so without the need to allow men to be born.
I’d get him the fuck away from his family, and allow him to foster a creative spirit that enhanced the lives of others, instead of letting him turn into a homicidal maniac. That’s the answer I’m supposed to give right? The thing is, that evil deeds require a choice. You have to CHOOSE to be evil, so it doesn’t matter if I killed Hitler, if it hadn’t been him, it would have been Thanos.
“What would YOU Do if YOU could KILL Hitler, when HE was a child? If You Knew What HE might become?“
Do you know how many men I’ve been around who wanted my vagina and instead left with meaningless items just so that they could say “oh yeah Devon was my friend, she gave me this because I punched someone out for her…” no, you stole it, because you’re a jealous little bitch that got mad that I chose him, instead of you.
Yes, that happened. I will never forget that guitar, it was given to me by a friend, who turned out to be a rapist in his own right, and the more that I think about how much trouble “that” particular item caused, the more that I realize that if all the people in my life want from me is things they could by on Amazon Prime, then I no longer need to feel bad for letting go of them.
Yeah, I used to be a thief too, and you know why? because I didn’t have words to describe how I was feeling, the difference is that I was also a child. I “decided” to grow up, and to do things differently, and the more that I tried to change and evolve, the more the most toxic people in my life thought “that’s because of me.” No, it’s in spite of you.
“Who is Devon J Hall?” “She’s a VENGEFUL MEAN sea WITCH made of FIRE and sand, with eyes of glitter, a soul made of Ash”
I heard someone say this about me once, and all I could think is “you don’t know me at all.” If you did, you’d know that I’m often not that vengeful, for the most part I let Karma sort of what needs to be sorted out, and spend most of my time focusing on the things that I want to do, while ignoring what I’m not interested in dealing with, and responding only when it’s time for me to decide that I need to see what’s coming next.
I have spent a lot of years taking my time trying to decide – crippling anxiety will do that to you, when someone says “a or b?” I rarely know what to say or which to choose even when I pretend to, but because of that I also have the ability what could be, if I took the time to actually weigh out my options and decide.
The spreading of the seeds that this website is born from, was a decision. I was completely insane when I decided to make this website, but that’s only because I literally had everyone in my dimension trying to figure out how to find the real me, because they were afraid they’d finally gone too far.
What’s the cost of a childhood? Trust is literally the most important thing that we have on this earth, and we build trust by being honest, by DECIDING to be the best versions of ourselves as often as possible? And when it comes time to choose between protecting our toxic children, or their victims, often times we have to make the hardest choice of all. How would I know? I was raped by my friend’s child. This same woman defended me from a gathering of women who were pissed off that I wouldn’t date a guy I found out beats and hurts women for his own pleasure. Really?
“What’s The Statute of Limitations when it comes to LETTING A child, a girl, and a WOMAN, get raped for more than 25 years? WHEN Is it ENOUGH?
When it came time to tell the truth about what happened to me, my “friend,” decided that even though she knew her son had deliberately tried to murder me, it would be best if I protected him, instead of myself.
This is the kind of toxicity I am talking about when I scream “GO FUCK YOURSELF,” because I am so tired of every life on this planet mattering to all the people I thought I cared about, than my life matters to anyone.
I can’t sit here and feel sorry for myself, not because I “won,” but because no matter what happens next, at least for a little while, the little girl inside of me got to see majick, got to see different universes, got to explain how every single film in the history of time is a genuine reflection of the world we live in, and WHY those films are a direct result of our living breathing life journey’s.
I am blessed, I am tired as hell, but I am blessed, and now the little girl inside of me is back where she belongs, whispering into my ear, “are you ready for the next batch?” and honestly, the author in me can’t help but smile.
I didn’t just get to live my wildest dreams and nightmares, I also got to show other people, simply by having enough trust to believe in the idea of perfect love. And I know to many people that might not make sense, but it makes perfect sense to me. It’s really cool to sit outside your mind, and watch yourself struggle as everything suddenly becomes clear, and because of this website, and all of the readers, I can now look myself in the mirror and say “see? Devon did it…” and when I hear that voice asking “whose Devon?” I’ll just remember that everything I learned I learned from Bart Simpson.
That’s exactly why 90s kids are the best generation that has ever lived in any dimension. We got superhero’s, we got super warriors, we got all the best cartoons and toys, and when the Titan’s came back to see where we landed after they left, I got to be the one who said “Devon did it.”
Sending all my love,
Devon J Hall