“ Who’s The Main Character In Your DR? “

NEW METHOD

hi babies!! i know i haven’t been posting anything loa related, but that’s bc i’ve been testing out this new method.

it’s basically the list method but on twt! hers the step by step process:

name your list “(month) manifestions”

list the manifestations, ex: - i lose 15lbs, - i get my dream man, etc.

after listing your manifestations, go more into detail about it(this is optional)

i’ve been doing this since april, and every month i’ve done it i’ve gotten more than 5 of my manifestations off of my list

forget freak. who's gonna match my cringe.

Im not begging to shift, shifting is begging me.

Im not in love with shifting, shifting is in love with me.

Im not waiting to go to my dr, my dr is waiting for me to come.

(Does that make sense?)

except now they just turn into drs

I remember the time I didn’t realize I was using the WBTB method and that I found myself dreaming and saw stars in my vision, then felt myself slipping into the void and I was just floating there like “🧍🏻‍♀️” because I wasn’t sure what to do and didn’t know what was going on because I was so confused 😭 I still find myself slipping into the Void every once in a while sksksks

The reason why shifting found you is because this reality was not made for you. You know about shifting because you deserve to go somewhere where you feel happy and a place that is made for you.

Just checking in. Hey guys, how are we doing?

Are we all living in the end? Knowing we have what we want? Good.

hello coolest person in the multiverse, do you have any ideas for things to script but whimsical, ethereal edition? thank youuuu ❤️

　THINGS TO SCRIPT FOR BEAUTY ✶  ETHEREAL.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　  ּ  　 *　 ˖ 　 ་

your fingertips leave invisible golden threads wherever they trail. across tables, shoulders, petals. if you touch something, it’s changed, even if no one sees it.

when you hum absentmindedly, it sounds like an incantation. people pause mid-conversation to listen.

your presence feels like spring breaking through winter. something always begins where you are. an idea, a glance, a bloom.

your hands could sew a wound or start a war, depending on how they’re asked.

there’s a wildness in your softness. the kind that makes people want to follow you into the dark and trust they’ll make it back out.

you carry a scent that people can’t quite place: like honey melting in tea, sun-drenched peaches, or jasmine at midnight.

the sound of your breathing in a quiet room could lull someone to sleep. gentle and rhythmic, like waves lapping against a shore.

your voice is steady and timeless, like ancient lullabies sung around a fire. when you speak, it feels like something’s being born.

you can find beauty where no one else looks: in cracked teacups, dust motes floating in sunlight, weeds pushing through cobblestones.

the earth recognises you. flowers seem to lean towards you as you pass, like sunflowers chasing light.

you exist like a field of wildflowers. soft, chaotic, and untouched by human hands.

you carry yourself like royalty without needing a crown. chin lifted, shoulders soft, gaze steady.

people feel safe around you. like you’re a sanctuary in a storm, a quiet church with sunbeams falling through stained glass.

birds land near you just to sing louder. bees linger longer on flowers you’ve touched.

you can hold a spider in your palm without fear and guide it back outside. the world listens to you because you listen to it first.

the sharp side of your tenderness? you protect what’s yours. fiercely. nobody touches your people, your peace, your spirit, without paying a price.

you look at someone with your full attention and they feel seen. not just their face, but their soul.

moths follow you at night. mirrors show you softer. candles burn brighter when you’re nearby.

when you sit still, time slows down. dust catches the light. birds dare to land closer.

you don’t rush. you flow. through crowds, conversations, spaces. as if every movement is deliberate, traced from constellations.

people don’t realise they’re holding their breath until you exhale.

your eyes hold stories no one’s told yet. someone could look at you and swear you know something about them. something good.

you wear silver jewellery that catches the moonlight just right. like the moon is winking at you, an old friend.

people don’t just look at you. they lean in. your energy pulls them closer like gravity.

you could make someone reconsider an entire life decision just by tilting your head and raising a brow.

people do things for you because they want to. “let me help you with that,” they say, before they’ve realised it’s already done.

when you smile, it feels earned. like you’ve gifted someone a treasure that belongs to very few.

you brush your hair slowly, like you’re blessing it. each strand kissed by bristles of gold.

your life is a ritual : the way you tie your ribbons, sweep kohl under your lashes, arrange fresh fruit in bowls. everything feels intentional.

you dip your feet into a cold stream and the water turns warmer, gentler, like it’s trying to please you.

you press your palm to a tree trunk and swear you can hear a faint heartbeat.

your energy feels like deep forests, wild oceans, or the first rainfall after a dry summer. restorative, sacred, alive.

you’re the calm before lightning strikes, the tension of a sky about to break.

your beauty is haunting, like the hum of an old song stuck in someone’s head.

you don’t play by the rules. you write them. and then break them with a smile.

you love like a cathedral loves its worshippers. vast, sacred, and steady.

when you hold someone, they feel like they could stay forever.

people feel lucky to know you, even if you never say a word about it.

people remember you in pieces: the way your bracelets jingled, the sound of your laughter in empty halls, the glow of your skin under twilight.

you leave rooms feeling fuller, like the air has been blessed.

your beauty lives in memories and dreams. soft, untouchable, and utterly unforgettable.

— there it is. ethereal beauty that goes beyond the body. it’s about being timeless, untamed, and deeply felt. your energy isn’t just seen. it’s experienced, remembered, and worshipped. write this into your dr like you’re painting your very soul across it. gold leaf, candlelight, the quiet hum of something holy  .  ་  ˖ 

　　　　things won't stop you from shifting

　꒰ putting your dr on a pedestal , does not exist. it is not some glass castle suspended in the ether. it is a place like any other, as accessible as a room you haven’t walked into yet.　　

　꒰ fantasising about your dr , does not matter. your brain is not a courtroom and you are not on trial for thought crimes. imagining a place does not exile you from it.　　

　꒰ not knowing everything about your dr , won't impact. you do not need to be a historian of your own life. you do not need to have memorised the census records and economic structures of a world you are simply in.　

　꒰ being too attached to your dr , does not ruin it. urgency does not dismantle possibility. the sky does not fold in on itself every time someone desperately wants rain.　　

　꒰ not being "calm enough" , no one is breathing monkishly through their nose 24/7. you are not required to be an unmoved river stone. people shift after a long day at work. people shift mid-existential crisis. it is not yoga, it is not meditation, it is a thing that happens when it happens.　　

　꒰ doubting yourself from time to time , irrelevant. you do not need to pass a faith test. you do not need to be baptised in unwavering conviction. you just need to assume. doubt is a background noise, not a locked door.　　

　꒰ external validation , unnecessary. your reality is not waiting for someone else to confirm its legitimacy. you do not need a jury of peers nodding solemnly at your experiences. this is not an academic dissertation. you do not need footnotes and sources and a professor’s approval.　　

　꒰ "trying too hard" , not a thing. effort does not push it further away. want does not make it shy away. this is not an uncatchable fish. this is not a paradox where wanting something too much means you will never have it.　　

　꒰ failing to shift multiple times , irrelevant. past attempts do not predict future outcomes. you are not an athlete counting losses. you are not a gambler on a losing streak. every attempt is new. every moment is unburdened by the weight of the last one. 　

　꒰ an inconsistent sleep schedule , doesn’t matter. you are not being graded on your circadian rhythm. shifting does not belong exclusively to people with 8 hours of uninterrupted rem. 　

　꒰ using multiple shifting methods , neutral. you are not hexing yourself by switching it up. they are not magic spells, they are just tools. they are ways to organise your approach, not laws of the universe.　

　꒰ shifting while sick or in pain , possible. you do not need to be in peak physical condition. you are not signing up for a marathon, you are existing. bodies exist in all states. you are allowed to exist in all states.　

　꒰ not “feeling close” to shifting , doesn’t mean anything. shifting is not a feeling to be unlocked. you do not need to sense it coming like a change in the weather. it does not always announce itself.　

　꒰ having trouble visualising , won’t stop you. not everyone sees things like a movie in their head. imagination is not just images. it’s thoughts, impressions, instincts. a blind person can shift. a person with aphantasia can shift.　

　꒰ not affirming constantly , does not matter. you do not need to chant like a monk or plead sweet nothings into the void 24/7.　

　꒰ being distracted mid-shifting attempt , not fatal. you are not required to have monk-like focus. people shift thinking about their homework. people shift thinking about dinner. people shift thinking about absolutely nothing at all.　

　꒰ not having a specific shifting method , does not stop you. people shift lying down. people shift sitting up. people shift standing. people shift in moving cars. you do not need a formula to do something natural.