Some people read tea leaves, some read palms, some read tarot cards. I read people. All I have to do is look at them. My gift is centered around the top of my head. That is where it enters. I also feel it in my chest. Today though, I am feeling like cheap white bread. Simply, given a gift and not sure how to make people want it or flock to it.  I also realize that I can see people and even through their lies. I am not to charge for my gift. I can’t. So I guess I am destined to be poor for the rest of my life. It’s okay, because actually I am rich. I am rich because I have the love of a higher power, animals and others. Money cant make my gift perform any better. Money can’t buy me happiness. Money kept my gift from me. My ex husband said, don’t get to wrapped up in that spooky shit or else it will consume you. Well that spooky shit happens to be my God given gift.

What am I supposed to do when I was given a gift such as mine? Stifle it? I am sorry. I can’t.  It helped me today, to have my gift. It always does. I just cant see it for myself until after the fact. One the reasons I was given this gift. It was given to me to help others, not myself.  I do listen to warning signs though.

How it helped me today was that I sold my house and the person buying it was not honest in telling me who they really were. I knew who they were. I saw it. I knew they were lying to me. I knew they were a realtor pretending to be someone else. Don’t ever lie to me because it only hurts you if you are in my life. Do you think I can’t see it?  There has been times in my life when I wasn’t honest and it came back to bite me and stung really bad. Anyway, this person who I met.  I knew it before I found out who they were. I found confimation online today when I was doing some research and found their picture. Honestly for someone like me is a life or death situation. I am trying to put my past behind me and live a totally honest life. Its hard when others aren’t.  So when I feel as though I have been lied to, I feel like cheap white bread, more like toast now. Cheap white bread for a poor person who can’t charge for her gift. Pity potty story.  Hey, I could make a sandwich with that one or better yet, creamed chipped beef over white toast or Welsh Rarebit. Sounds good to me.