#the amount of times i almost typed 'shitting' shouldnt be making me laugh this much
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how i view shifting!! 🎀
so after years of learning and cultivating my own idea of what shifting is and how it works, here’s my take on what it is and how i understand it:
as many people mention when they talk about their shifting beliefs, i also take into account how creation is finished.
meaning, everything that has, is, and will happen already did across all realities (the however many infinities of them that exist)
because this is true, time no longer has any meaning because all moments in all realities exist at the same exact moment. now.
starting out, i always associated shifting with movement, going from one reality to another.
but really, there is no movement because you’re already in both/all realities that exist right now. you’re just more focused on this one rn.
here are some affirmations that i say when im shifting (bc ik for a fact that ive exhausted the others where i feel like it’s more habit to say them and i don’t really focus on what i say anymore)
i am fully aware and conscious in my dr/wr
i am happy that i have shifted, just like every other time i try
i know i have shifted, because i know that have before and i will again
i am fully grounded in my dr/wr
i am disconnected from my other reality (not original reality, because there really isn’t an original one)
it’s honestly crazy how every time i try to shift, i’m successful
(after saying like, one affirmation) i don’t have to affirm anything anymore because im already completely grounded in my dr/wr, but i’ll keep going bc i want to
i don’t like to say “i am in my dr/wr”, because why should i have to affirm that part? i’ve always existed there and have been there, i shouldn’t have to affirm that yk yk?
one of the most important things i've learned on the journey is how insignificant and not special shifting actually is.
yes, when we think of shifting we usually think of going from being in a reality without anything 'special' to being in one where you study magic or you are a superhero with powers or you're literally a deity.
but what shifting boils down to is focusing on one reality to another based on what we want to happen. by going to a reality where specific actions and moments take place.
therefore, we shift with every single action we take in life.
some of you reading this may have just changed the position they were reading in or fiddled with your hair a bit.
newsflash: you just shifted, babe.
you shifted from a reality where you were completely fine in your position or you didn't touch your hair to one where you did. because you wanted to. because you could.
to clarify, here's an example: I shift to my drs to experience the scripted moments that I know will happen. In my cr, there are dirty dishes I know are in the sink to be washed. I know I will wash them later. In this reality, the moments from my dr haven't taken place but will once I set the intention to shift. My dishes will remain dirty unless I set the intention to clean them. once i get up and do the dishes, I've shifted to the reality where I've done the dishes in that moment. Once I shift to my dr, I've shifted to the reality where those moments happen as I've scripted they will.
as shifters, we often get caught up in the amazing worlds we get to experience that we ignore the fact that shifting is all the little things you do on a daily basis.
Instead of thinking of shifting in your current reality as you just scripting moments from your drs in your head while absentmindedly doing the dishes, shifting is present just as much in the action of you doing the dishes. bc there is 100% a reality where those dishes were left undone.
this post is long enough, oopsies. 🤭
you are the universe and more, babes 🎀
#reality shift#shiftblr#shifters#shifting#desired reality#reality shifting#shiftinconsciousness#shifttok#the amount of times i almost typed 'shitting' shouldnt be making me laugh this much#DOES ANY OF THIS MAKE SENSE#why did i mention doing the dishes so much tf#i do have to do the dishes tho#all my thoughts kinda got all muddled in the end#hopefully you can pick up what im trying to put down 😭😭
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November
I had never been good at goodbyes. The first goodbye I really remember, was when our pet dog Timmy died, and I forced my mum and dad to give him a funeral, and I probably cried for about a week. Another stand out goodbye in the list of many, was my brother moving to uni, and that was very reasonable for me to be a mess of tears and tantrums, because I hadn’t seen him since he left. One of my most recent goodbyes, was when I moved to university. I was only a few hours away from my parents and our new dog, Timmy-Two, but I absolutely had a breakdown when they dropped me off there. To be honest, they were no better, which was predictable behaviour from Phil and Lisa, always emotional, especially when it came to their darling daughter. The whole thing was atrocious when they left, watery eyes and inaudible sentences and desperate hugs and it was so pathetic I nearly vomit even thinking back to it. And then this one. This goodbye, was just as shit as the rest.
“I promise I’ll come visit!” Grace insisted. I sobbed as I hugged her, not wanting to look at that stupid pink suitcase she had packed behind her, wanting to kick it over or pull all her clothes out and throw them everywhere just to keep her with me a bit longer. “Or,” I sobbed uneasily. “You could just stay!” “Sorry, Pippa, but the uni life is just not for me.” I just kept sobbing, but sobbing this time seemed more plausible than when my parents left, because there was no guarantee she would come back. She promised me she would, but I knew that wasn’t enough. It’s strange, being at uni. Friendships develop so quickly it’s hard to even keep track of how close you all get. And with Grace being in the room next door to mine on our floor, from moving in on September 15th, to November 1st, it was safe to say she was my best friend. I was besotted with her, and I really didn’t want her to leave. She hated her course though, and she dropped out before it was too late, before she was too committed. Not even the end of the first term in our first year, and she was leaving. I was really going to miss her. “Alright, alright!” Zayn barked from beside me. “You’ve been hugging her for about ten minutes now, you’re being selfish, Pip! Let me have a go.” Tears kept rolling down my face as I gave her up for a moment, the rest of the gang moving in to give her a goodbye hug. There was me, Grace (before she selfishly decided to leave) Zayn, Mike, Tally, and Ringo. (I had still to learn Ringo’s real name, she was a quiet one, and a Beatles fan, I think.) Everyone was saying their goodbyes, but no one was quite as emotional as I was about her leaving. They all gave her their hugs and farewells. “You best stay in touch!” Tally instructed. “I will! I promise! God, you’re all so dramatic.” Everyone kind of laughed except me. I was not amused. Zayn moved and gave her a kiss on the head before I took over again, hugging her so tightly it was like I knew for a fact I would never see her ever again. Like I said, I’ve never been good at goodbyes. “You’re an emotional wreck.” She giggled once everyone else had rekindled back in the kitchen, giving us our space. “How many times do I need to promise?” “But I’ll miss living with you.” I tried to calm down. “I love you being here.” “I’ll be back before you know it.” “You better be!” “I’m gunna miss my train...” She groaned. “Fine.” I shot, pulling away from her and wiping away my tears. “Go. Leave me here alone to die.” She backed out of the door, grabbing her suitcase and looking at me whilst giggling. She did always say that she liked how I got emotional about little things, like songs and films and TV shows. But I had calmed a little, finally. I stood in the doorway giving her the weakest smile I could summon. “Gunna miss you, Girl.” She smiled. “You too. Get home safe, okay?” I sniffled. She nodded, and I knew she was emotional too, but she wasn’t the crying type like I was, so the goodbye was lacking tears on her part. I think I cried enough for the both of us. We said goodbye a final couple of times, and by the time she was in the elevator going down to the bottom floor I was relatively calm, wiping away my final few tears. I slumped past our bedrooms as I walked down the corridor, three doors on each side, making my way to the kitchen and living room area of our halls, where they all sat giving me sad head tilts, knowing how close we were, how much I would miss her. I stuck my middle finger up to the lot of them, making them laugh awkwardly, as Ringo quietly went back into her room. Defeated, I flopped down on the sofa and huffed out my sorrow as Zayn tucked me under his arm, kissing my forehead once before we nestled comfortably together. “I can’t believe she’s actually gone.” Mike sighed. “Just like... ‘cause she mentioned it on day one and then stuck around... I kinda thought she was all talk.” That’s what we had all been hoping, because Grace was one of those people who could walk in a room and make everyone’s day a little bit brighter; she could cheer up anyone just by smiling or telling a small joke. She was incredible. “You’re just gutted you didn’t get a chance to shag her.” Zayn chuckled. “Mate, I’m gutted with my sex life full stop! Not just when it comes to her! She was more wife material anyway, I’ll hunt her down in a few years.” I tried to laugh but I really wasn’t in the mood, I just kept staring at the tele as Zayn traced comforting circles on the top of my arm with two fingers, staring at the TV too. We had gotten lucky with our flat, we were in one of the better-quality student accommodations, so everything was modern and nice. The only downfall really was the communal shower rooms, which for some odd reason were placed past the living room and kitchen, so everyone got a good sight of you dashing through in a towel and dripping on the floor whilst they tried to watch TV. But our rooms were lovely, the whole thing was pretty lovely, so we knew it would only be a short amount of time before a student on a waiting list would take Graces now empty room. “How long you gunna be sad for, Pippa?” Tally asked me as she balanced her plate full of pasta on her knees, given we had no table. “Dunno. Could be years. Maybe I’ll never get over it.” “Well you’re gunna have to ‘cause we’re definitely going out tonight!” Mike tried. “I can’t.” I shrugged. “I’m in at nine.” “Pussy!” “Fuck off, Mike!” I giggled, throwing the nearest cushion at him. “Reyt!” He chirped, moving back to the hall. “It’s wank o’clock. See you all soon!” Zayn was in stitches as Mike strolled out of the area and into his room, Tally was trying her best not to laugh but I could see she was failing miserably. “I never knew living with lads would be such a cliché!” I groaned through a stifled laugh. “You lived with your brother, didn’t you?” Tally giggled. “Yeah, but he never announced when he was going for a wank, thankfully.” That just made Zayn laugh even more, he was absolutely creasing next to me, having to move his arm from around me and cover his face. I started to think how even without Grace, I would be fine, because that lot meant the world to me. I shook my head and stood myself up, walking over to my food cabinet and grabbing out a packet of crisps, standing and leaning rather than sitting back down with Zayn, who was still chuckling away to himself. “You sure you can’t come out tonight?” Tally sulked, looking over her shoulder to me. “I really shouldn’t.” I huffed. “You haven’t missed a lecture in like... three weeks.” “To be fair, that is really good.” And it was. The first year of uni seemed to be a complete write-off, and my brother had said exactly the same thing. You could pretty much take the piss in your first year, and still pass. He told me that second year was a little bit harder but you could still go out most days of the week and miss a fair few lectures. However, in his last year, he sounded like he was going to have a mental breakdown he was working so hard. So in my head, I still pretty much had two years of fun left. Missing one lecture, for the first time in almost a month, couldn’t be too bad. And I did need cheering up. Zayn stood himself up and moseyed over to me, hooking his arms around my waist and I put mine over his shoulders, both of us swaying in our hug. “C’mon, Pippa. We have to go out, the only way to deal with sadness is drinking.” “Sad, but true.” I agreed. “So,” He grinned, pulling away from me. “We going out?” I rolled my eyes and shook my head, but obviously I was smiling anyway, caving into the idea of going out and possibly missing a lecture. “Fine.” I breathed. “Let’s do it.” + + + We passed the shots I had bought down the line, Zayn banging his hand on the bar eagerly. It was me, Mike, Tally and Zayn. We had tried to convince Ringo to tag along with us, but she was having none of it, said she had too much work to do. We always tried with her though, and it’s not that we thought she didn’t like us, she was just so withdrawn. But there was nothing we could do other than try. The line of shots made their way down the group, each of us having three each; one red, one green, one purple. I had always been terrible at shots, so I had no idea why I bought them, especially three at a time. Seemed pretty stupid, but there we were. “Alright, on the count of three, we do red!” Zayn shouted, as though he was some kind of soldier ready for war. “We have five seconds before we move onto purple, and a maximum of ten seconds, before we go onto green. Are you with me?” “Shut up, Zayn.” Tally laughed. “I SAID ARE YOU WITH ME?” He shouted in her ear. If I had already taken my first shot I would have spat it out laughing, but thankfully I laughed without spitting the substance everywhere, having a minute to calm down before Zayn counted to three, and we did as we were instructed. I was doing alright until the third shot, whenn I felt like I was going to throw up all over the bar, but luckily, I didn’t. I counted to eight seconds out of my given ten before I finally did the last shot, feeling their affects so quickly, it almost felt like a waste of time that I wasn’t dancing. It took me a little bit longer than the rest to recover, they were already on their way to the centre of the dancefloor by the time I pushed away from the bar, stumbling a little as I did before regaining my balance and dancing over to them, a cheeky, somewhat tipsy, smile on my face. Another thing I loved about uni is that I had come across a group of people who were exactly the same as I was on a night out. None of us gave a shit, and our terrible team dancing was what made our nights so much fun. I’d say around half an hour of intense boogying passed before Zayn signalled that he wanted a cigarette, and he knew that it was likely I would join him after a drink, so I did. We wandered to the heated outside area, which was one of the good things about our favourite club, Thimble, though after many discussions we still couldn’t figure out why that was the name they had chosen for a club. Zayn handed me a roll-up, and placed one in his mouth, getting out a lighter and sparking mine for me before he sparked his own. Within seconds, out of nowhere, two arms grabbed Zayn from behind, right around his waist as the mystery man lifted him in the air, making a girly scream irrupt from him lips, which brought in a couple of eyes and a couple of laughs. As soon he was dropped, he turned around to find the culprit. “Fucking hell, Louis!” He gasped, slapping his palms against the boys cheeks. “I nearly shat me’self, you idiot!” “Alright, Lad!” The other one said as they started hugging. I think I had heard Zayn speak of this Louis before. He was on his art course with him, but what Zayn had apparently forgotten to tell me was that he was absolutely gorgeous. I stared at him as the two of them interacted, and I was a little entranced. He was all slicked back hair and black clothes, turtle neck, freshly shaved, striking eyes. He was beautiful. After a while Zayn turned back around to me, grinning like he didn’t see Louis every bloody day at his lectures. He was acting like he hadn’t seen him in years. Classic effect of alcohol. I gave Zayn a look, a look that said, if you don’t introduce me to this God of a man now I will kill you. “Oh shit.” He mumbled. “Umm, Pip this is Louis. Louis, this is Pippa.” He moved in and gave me a kiss on the cheek, and I already knew he was charming too, which was frustrating. I couldn’t cope when boys were attractive but charming too, it was always too much to take in. “Nice to meet you.” He said as he pulled away, looking me up and down. “You live with Zayn, yeah?” “Right across from him.” I nervously replied. “Are you the one who cries a lot?” He smirked. I sucked in air through my teeth, cringing that of all the things Zayn could have said, that was what he had decided to pass on. “Umm...” I let out a breathy laugh. “I get emotional about things.” “Every time I watch E.T. I cry like a baby, don’t worry about it.” “To be fair,” Zayn chirped. “I cry at Finding Nemo.” ”No, fair shout man!” Louis looked deadly serious. “At the beginning-” “When his wife dies!” Zayn gawped. “And Nemo is the only baby left!” “It’s absolutely heart breaking.” “Heart breaking.” Louis repeated. It struck me quite quickly how similar Louis and Zayn were, and I knew why my flatmate had raved about his friendship with the blue-eyed boy. I shook my head at them, taking a drag of the cigarette Zayn had rolled me, my head spinning slightly, half of me ready for bed and the other half ready to carry on my terrible dancing. Behind myself and Zayn we heard someone shout Louis’ name. ”Gotta run.” He smirked again. “Nice to meet you, Pippa.” “You too!” I cooed, blushing as though he had complimented me. ”Zayn.” The two slapped their hands together before clasping their hands tights together. “See you tomorrow, bro.” “Later, man.” Louis bounced off to the lad who had shouted his name, yelling and cheerful and 100% attractive in every way ever possible. Jesus wept, I was actually impressed by him, I just wanted to eat him up on the spot and leave nothing for anyone else. As soon as I knew he was out of earshot, I slapped Zayn hard on the arm, hitting that stupid tiger tattoo, his arms completely on show thanks to the fact he cut the sleeves off his t-shirt. “Ouch!” He laughed. “What was that for?” “Why the fuck does your stupidly attractive mate only know me for the fact I cry?” “I don’t know! I’ve told him other stuff.” “Right. Like what?” “Like... how you throw up on hangovers sometimes.” “Brilliant, Zayn. Thank you.” I couldn’t stop smiling even though I was shaking my head. His apology to me was him wrapping one arm around me and pulling me to him, giving me a kiss on the forehead, still chuckling away to himself. He moved out, extending his little finger, waiting for my finger to link up with his. “Alright.” He laughed. “I pinky-promise, I will say better things about you in the future. I’ll make him think you’re a goddess.” “How exactly?” I giggled. “Umm... I’ll tell him about how Finn said you’re really good at giving head.” “Y’know what, don’t say shit, Zayn. Let’s just let him forget I exist.” That probably made him laugh ever harder, grabbing me by the shoulders as I turned around, both of us throwing our cigarettes on the floor and making our way back inside, ready to find the rest of the troops. Zayn steered me off towards the bar before we joined the team again, where he purchased me two more drinks, that completely tipped me over the edge. + + + I awoke on the floor in my room, still in my dress from the night before, one side of my face dinted from the bumpy carpet beneath my skin. My eyes opened slowly, and I recognized the spot immediately, this not being the first time I had awoke on the floor, literally inches away from my bed. I had no idea why I did that, I swear to god it must have been a decision I made when I was drunk, though in the morning I could never recall why I would ever think it was a good idea. I groaned and cursed to myself as I moved. I first readjusted my arm, and in the process knocked over and entire can that I had open next to me, beer soaking into my already ruined carpet. I hurriedly stood the can back up, though a good 90% of it had already spilled so there was literally no point. My head was pounding, every joint in my body ached like fuck as I sat myself up, rubbing my eyes, not really caring about the fact I must have been rubbing my mascara all over my face. All I knew was that I needed water, or a cup of tea, or something that would help mend my broken body. “Holy. Shit.” I grumbled to myself. I stumbled to my feet, nearly falling forward and whacking my head against the desk that sat ahead of the window, which looked out to what seemed to be an endless line of student accommodation. The only thing that got me through that hangover was the thought that there had to be a student in one of those buildings who was feeling even worse than I was. There just had to be. Luckily, this was one of those hangovers where I didn’t feel like throwing up, I just needed drink and food and possibly a cuddle, even though my usual person to cuddle was Grace, and that option was out of the window. I found my phone on the desk, checking what time it was and seeing it was almost 12pm, only an hour until my lecture finished. “Fuck!” I don’t know how I thought that I was going to manage getting there at 9am after drinking so heavily. Basically, I knew I wasn’t going to go, but I still kicked myself for it, I still got so annoyed with myself for not making it. I pulled my dress down to cover my dignity, all that was left of it, before turning on the spot and heading towards the door, eager to get some fluid in my system that wasn’t alcoholic, scraping my hair to the side slightly and catching a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror on my door. Surprisingly, my makeup was relatively intact, but there was no denying I was an absolute state. I tugged on the handle to my door and opened it slightly, poking my head around the corner and looking to the left down the corridor. Judging by how quiet it was, everyone was still sleeping, or in a lecture. The kitchen was so quiet it suggested that anyway. I fell through my door and groaned to myself as I scurried down to the kitchen, screeching to myself as I made the short journey, feeling so painfully sorry for myself you would have never thought my pain was self-inflicted. As soon as I step foot in the kitchen, which was still stupidly quiet, my heart caught tight in my throat, stumbling backwards and shouting out my shock. “HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” The random boy that was stood in our kitchen whipped his head round to catch a glimpse of me, eyes going up and down my body as he chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he looked back towards his drink, continually dipping a teabag into the mug of hot water in front of him. “Nice.” He huffed, grinning to himself. “Shit. Sorry. You’re very quiet.” “I am.” He turned to look at me. He was extremely striking. I think it was his sharp jawline, how tanned he seemed to be, which was near impossible given the UK’s climate, so that was noticeable right away. “Did Tally bring you back?” I asked, hesitantly moving towards my food cabinet. It wouldn’t be the first time Tally had brought home a ridiculously attractive boy, in fact, she did it often. She had a way about her, an aura, boys flew to her like flies on shit, and she lapped it up. This guy had to be her best effort though. His hair was short, messy and brown and curly. He was topless, just a pair of running shorts on. It revealed to me his perfectly toned body, which had one very noticeable tattoo. An enormous butterfly on his stomach. I caught glimpse of it and then decided not to stare, but I remember thinking that was odd. He didn’t have any other tattoos, just that one. “Who?” He baffled. That threw me, I couldn’t think of any other plausible reason he would be in our flat. I certainly hadn’t brought him back, I would remember him. And Ringo hadn’t even gone out. I then thought maybe he was Ringo’s secret boyfriend, and was silently congratulating her in my head. “Sorry, I thought you were one of Tally’s conquests.” “I live here.” He replied. My eyes went wide. That was the person who was going to replace Grace. That guy. Jesus wept, I had only just gotten used to bloody Zayn walking about the place, even Mike wasn’t all bad, and then that one? I swore that people had not been so insanely attractive at school, or college. I moved to uni and then suddenly there was just a gaggle of attractive men and I for one, was not good at coping with attractive people. I became a nervous wreck and found it hard to structure sentences. “Y-you live here?” I pointed to the floor. “Just moved in this morning.” “Oh.” I gawped. “You live here?” He leant against the kitchen top. “Umm, yeah. In the last room on the right. First room on the left. Umm…” “The room next to mine?” He smirked. “Yeah.” He probably knew the effect he had on girls, he was stupidly confident, not struggling in the same way I was. I suppose it was partly down to the hangover, I figured maybe I would be better later on, or the day after, or next week… I would learn to deal with it at some point. After a few moments of awkward silence, he breathed in through his teeth, making it even more awkward, and pushed away from the counter. “Better go unpack.” He coughed. “I imagine I’ll see you around.” “Probably.” “What’s your name?” “Pippa.” “Pippa?” “Pippa Payne.” “Pfft, seriously?” He scoffed. “You sound like a character from an Enid Blyton book.” I just lowered my eyebrows and looked at him in a complete state of shock as he walked away, laughing and shaking his head, removing himself from the kitchen and going back to his room. I stood there unable to think of something to say, how snotty he had been and how he just did not care that he made that comment about me. True, it wasn’t the worst thing he could have said, but it just amazed me that he burst that out to me during our first interaction. I hadn’t even had the chance to learn his name so I could make some snotty comment back. I got a pint glass out of my cupboard and filled it to the brim with water, before practically running and banging on Zayn’s door, loud and ignorant. “Bet a tenner that’s Pippa.” I heard him yell from inside. “How am I supposed to win this bet?” I yelled through the wood. “By not being Pippa.” “But I am Pippa.” “Well then you owe me a tenner.” I huffed, rolling my eyes and letting myself in. Zayn, like most people, had managed to get himself in bed even though he was stupidly drunk. His bed was to the right as I walked in, a mirrored version to mine since he was just across from me. I stared down to him with serious eyes after having slammed the door shut. He let out a confused laugh as he looked up to me. “What?” He gawped. “We have a new person.” I whispered. “What?” “A new person. A boy. And he’s just taken the piss out of my name.” He uneasily lifted himself so he was upright in his bed, taking in what I was telling him. I hurriedly moved and put my water on his desk, before sitting at the end of his bed, still looking at him with the most intense look on my face. He ran his hands over his eyes and through his hair. “Grace literally moved out less than twenty-four hours ago.” He groaned. “I know, and they’ve replaced her with a twat. A really attractive twat.” “What did he say?” “Something about a character, something... I dunno, but I didn’t like it!” “Give it a week and you’ll be his best mate.” Zayn huffed. But he was far from right. Because over the next few days, I was going to discover that my new flatmate and I were not going to be friends, not at all.
#I've decided I wanna get this up before HBS#I can't put it off any longer#so lets fucking do it#BB#Butterfly Boy#1dff#Harry Styles#BB1
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