i have it, i have it, i have it… so where is it?
there’s a thing that happens. a delusion, a performance, a cosmic joke that you’re in on until you realise you’re the punchline. you manifest something, no, you inhabit it, you embody it, you crawl inside its skin and zip yourself up. i have x. i own x. x is already in my hands. you say it until it isn’t a wish anymore, just a fact waiting to be noticed. and then. nothing.
the universe, god, the simulation, whoever’s supposed to be writing this cheque, has put you on hold. customer service music is playing. you are nowhere near x, your hands are empty, your environment bleak and x-less. you are spiritually rich and physically destitute, the manifestational equivalent of an aristocrat whose assets are frozen.
and you sit there, stunned. because it worked last time. and the time before that. and the time before that. like magic, like clockwork, like a law as immutable as gravity. you have received things you shouldn’t have received. things you had no way of getting. things that should have been out of reach but weren’t, because you knew how to want them properly. so why not now? why this, why you, why the delay?
so , here’s how you get x
you ignore the absence of x. you treat x like an inevitability, like a train already hurtling down the tracks towards you. not like a possibility. not like a wish. an inevitability. you do not beg the train to come; you stand at the station as if it’s already rounding the bend. you prepare. you make space. you act as if.
this is not the delusion of a fool. this is the precision of an architect. the greats have always known this, athletes, actors, politicians, emperors. success is an air, a posture, a scent worn like cologne. you can smell it on people before they have it. and if you wear it long enough, the universe catches on.
you speak in possession, not longing. you train your mind to recoil at the word "want" like it’s poison. wanting affirms lack. you do not want, you have. you are.
but what about reality? what about facts? what about the brutalist architecture of circumstance, the stone and steel of what is?
what about it? reality is not static. it is pliant, malleable, a thing to be strong-armed and shaped. the first step in changing reality is refusing to bow to it.
so you do not acknowledge the empty space where x should be. you treat it like a chair already filled, a bank account already bursting, a future already decided. you hold the pose, you speak in the tense of the having, you ignore the absence until it has no choice but to become presence.
confidence + assumption = success. it has never been more complicated than that. the world has always belonged to those who assume it should.
so assume. and let the world catch up.