Old Steemit Posts

speaking from the heart chakra.
spilling my chest.
baring it all.

After really digging into the story about what happened in the crypto world. I sided with HIVE. I really am truly learning how much I value the vision of decentralized cryptocurrency. I truly love the vision -- as seen here in:

The Four Pillars of a Decentralized Society

I want to give a shout out to the community on here that kept going back and letting me know in my comment section about the centralization that was happening on a once beautiful platform. I am happy to be back on a truly decentralized platform.

***Thank you, Hive for having me :) ***

I am really investing in keeping my work centralized right now. Tongue in cheek, perhaps. I just really want to contain all my writings into one place. So there may be some writings here on a blockchain that is decentralized.

As an artist. That is important to me. I want a community, and a place online to call home. Where I can write, express, create, be free and most importantly ***NOT BE CENSORED. ***

Speaking of being censored, I just wanted to throw a big thank you out to all the people who did pieces for the @theycallmedan_ #freedomofspeech challenge. I got a lot of inspiration out of that. It is amazing to see woke people from around the world, collectively, speaking out about how important this basic human right is; truly -- I tip my hat to you.

I am currently writing a piece (in my drafts folder) that was inspired by one of the pieces I saw from this challenge. I am not sure if it is too late or not to enter the contest? Oh well. I'll write about it anyways. Because contest or not, getting the message out about freedom of speech is important.

Thank you for giving me a place to speak. I am from the United States of America; I thought it was necessary to believe in the 1st Amendment?

Constitution of United States of America 1789 (rev. 1992) Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

As I grew up, I realized.


Hey -- but here you go! Disagree with me, great. Let's chat, discuss. See where my flaws are, see where your flaws are. And away we go. Lots will get accomplished this way. Debates are nessesary; I can't be afraid to be wrong. Or be called out for being wrong. Hell, sometimes -- I AM WRONG. You know what has taught me that? Debate.

*Healthy, freedom of speech. *
***changed my mindset. ***

I didn't want to lose my work from steemit. I have abandoned that page now. I even put up on my bio --- "follow me on HIVE.BLOG"

I don't know what Justin Sun will do?
Honestly, *I don't even care. *

So, here we go:
here are some of my last blog posts from Steemit.

"Maybe If King Henry VIII Wasn't Quite Such a Dick."

Maybe they should have learned to communicate better. Perhaps IF Henry wasn’t oh so patriarchal.


Dear King Henry the VIII,

There is something I must get off my vulnerable chest.

I think it’s because there is an element of truth for me of this —
that I feel like can also apply to you.

I love us (friends, colleagues, KING AND QUEEN— platonic/friendship “us”). I adore the bond I will always share with you. I have done things that have hurt your feelings, I am sure. You have done things to hurt mine, yes. You have chosen to forgive me, and I have chosen to forgive you. There are many many many things we have in common. Some of the things that united us as once Catholic lovers have allowed us to endure and to have deep conversations. We share a known common strength, a common belief system. And of course, we share our love for our dear and lovely Elizabeth.

Let’s learn to rule together.

You have challenged me, deeply. I absolutely love that. You challenged my way of thought. You challenged and shaped my beliefs on certain things. You planted seeds, you planted hope, you inspired a tiny bonsai to repot herself as motherfucking queen.


So when I tell you this. Know that I am ripping pages from my diary and my heart — I do this to be right with you.

To be right before God.
To be right before myself.
Because ultimately, big picture
— people grow.

I know you are gay.
I too am bisexual, baby.

I’ve known it since we met.
I’d chop off my own neck if I wasn’t right.

Charlie* this oh and Charlie that. It’s ad nauseam. I am exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally exhausted Harry.**

Just let me be. Look we can rule together.
I know about all your ‘free love’ nonsense. I know about all your friends. Let us take the throne together and rule the nation we want to write about in the history books — thatwewillpushonalltheschoolchildren. Let’s make England great again, Harry.


Look keep your boys. I’ll take whoever I want. And we will rule the world. I am not mad. I am not upset— I just really needed to qualify this before I rip into the fucking Duke of Suffolk.

He’s just not good for you baby! I mean seriously, it’s heart wrenching. Look, I get why you all initially attracted to one another. I get it! I see it! You both are a ton alike.

And when I saw him —
yelling at you like that?
Getting heated like that?


Demanding of you like that?

Come on.
Let him go.

I mean I get it, you want to make up. You want to get back together with him. You want him to understand your point of view. You want him to see how you’ve changed and grew and suffered. You want to see him adapt and change in a similar way.

Darling, let the man go!

Remember the saying that my sister, Mary***, used to whisper in your ear... right before you came into her, “if you love something, let it go; if it was meant to be, it will it return.”

I hope you will understand that I will never tell your secret. As long as we can rule together; I believe in equality dammit.

However, consider yourself blackmailed.

Your Queen,
Anne Boleyn

May she live 10,000 years
She does not poop.
...wait, no — that’s Kim Jong-un

*Fun Fact: Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk and Anne Boleyn hated each other. Nearly a thousand years of beef.

**Fun fact Why was Henry VIII called Harry? The name Henry derives from the Old French name Henri, and over time (during the medieval period) the English version – Harry – started to be used over here. Most monarchs called Henry were referred to by those who knew them as Harry, including Henry VIII. ... So that's why Henry has just remained an 'official' title.

***Fun Fact — Henry VIII hooked up with (that means had sex with...) Mary Boleyn.

otherwise I'll continue to put up whatever the fuck I want to.
because I can.


Ramblings from April of 2020


Dear Fans,

First I wanted to thank you for being here, for reading this. For actually paying attention to the little noises that come from the squeaking of my laptop in the wee hours of the morning. I appreciate you loving the small artist. The art whose intention isn't to "get discovered"; "to get rich" but for the simplicity and the reason why we have art -- to be the means of our expression. I am so lucky to be able to share my diary and personal reflections with such incredible and supportive individuals. It has been a past time that I have always valued.

I guess, we aren't really friends until I've pulled out my old and tattered diary and began reading. This has taken substitute -- me sharing my blog with you all. This feels right.

And currently I am just trying to find my voice, so I am moving and flowing in different tones and voices. Thank you for being a fan of art. Thank you for being a fan of that little artist; who never sells her work, who writes just because that's what she wants to do. I appreciate you, for appreciating and valuing me -- and my work. I have really loved the community so much on this small part of the web -- I hope to continue our relationship over the next coming years. I hope to grow as an artist with you.

Who can I thank for this work of art? Who can I thank for this piece that has come out of me? I want to thank one of the most beautiful souls I've ever met. My muse during this process helped me slow down and gave me space to breathe and heal. My wonderful husband, my number one fan. These journal exercises have been pieces I've been working on for some time now. I feel like I've finally been able to cultivate what is me? Who am I? Where am I going through these writing pieces.

I hope, if you choose to read them that you get a sense of hope out of them. I sense of change in the air. I hope that throughout the years of me creating and cultivating the life I want to live for myself, my words written on these pages will grow even stronger. I feel like these were the writing exercises I needed to preform in order to fully embrace the new mother I am becoming and blooming into.

You will always have my heart,
Laura Bellefontaine

P.S. please skip the "dear hater's section" -- it's for those who don't get the vision.


Q: What is this? Your writing style has really changed, this is really different?

A: Yes, I am being creative during this quarantine [and whenever I feel, really]. I am writing during this time period in order to best heal from the wound that have hurt me over the years. Creativity, when I use it, helps me heal better than any therapy I've ever used. These are just four journal pieces I needed to purge off my chest. That I have written in order to heal. There is a community of people that accepts and loves these memoir-like reflections of growing from maiden to mother. I am looking for these people out there.

If that's you -- thank you for reading. All of your encouragement over the last few months has lead me to really put pen to paper. I am releasing all that was once pent up inside me. I am finally freeing myself from my own personal chains via the pen. I think this is why journaling is powerful. It is freeing. I've always loved sharing these experiences with others. So if you enjoy the diary entries of a grad student turned mother just living life -- please follow along. I love you. Thank you for being here.

and haters, thank you for reading too. If it wasn't for you -- I'd be irrelevant.

jk I actually am irrelevant, but whatever.
Part I: Journal
Dear Diary Introduction,
[and recording my thoughts on the quarantine South Carolina, USA]


The last year or so in graduate school has made me really understand and chew upon two concepts. One being intelligence, the other being vocation (notice, I didn't say career). I'll get back to this concept in Part II.

First I desire to reflect on my current mood in the world as of April 2020-- over the last few months or so I've been reading. And reading, and well. Reading. Before pregnancy (and simultaneously the beginning of graduate school) , really -- I used to read a lot. I have been doing that quite often AGAIN actually.

Remember: This has been my quarantine reflections from a position of privilege that allows me to stay indoors most days with ease. This is just my perspective, my thoughts, my feelings on a historical event.

It feels good to be inside quarantine and not feel guilty for being, doing, healing, processing, existing. There's some peace in knowing that just for the moment; if I am at home, I am okay. I am saving the world? Or at least society doesn't make a big fuss out of me staying at home. I feel at peace with my thoughts. I like this.

Perhaps that is because depression has made me live inside my own box of agoraphobia over the years. Truly, self imprisonment. Odd jobs, seasonal work, always traveling, long blocks of time "free."

Maybe as a student there is some privilege in that statement, given, sure. But, trust me when I say -- in some way shape or form; my depression and anxiety has isolated me in the house for years. Sure, the situation has changed. The state has changed, the location, the people. And -- for some reason there are long periods of depressive moments where my world is reduced to my bedroom, sleep, and baths.

It's a crazy form of imprisonment.
I am aware.

I am finally healing. I am finally releasing my creative essence without restraint and without fear. It's been an incredible journey, emotionally -- to be able to heave and ho the choppy waters my internal waterbed of tears, anxieties, and fears.

Yet, instead of treading waters in this unstable environment.
I am now learning to calm the waters to that of a serene pond.

I am learning how to shift perspectives, I am learning how to heal internally in a method that isn't full of self shame and hatefulness. Why? Perhaps, I gave up and decided I wanted to live.

I remember once, a therapist in wilderness telling a girl there who was suicidal; "you have to get off the fence -- do you want to heal? do you not want to heal? Just choose." I inserted the word heal for the actual word he used: die. I hated this memory for years. It was two days after Christmas 2007. Group five (my group) and group two were both together and united over this holiday. I didn't know Jason the therapist very well. He was the "other groups" therapist. We had ours. We liked ours. Our therapist didn't do this wild group therapy sessions where someone ended up on separates afterwards due to a breakdown.

...that would be nutty.

He came out and did a giant group therapy course with us. It's then that he focused on Maddie and her will to die. Subsequently inside the same group -- he then proceeded to call me arrogant.

I wrestled with this comment for years. Internally beating myself up. I have decided to encode self empathy. Truly my behavior may have seem pompous and over confident at times? It's another head of a low self worth coin.

In truth I related a lot to Maddie over the years. I wasn't fully dead. Yet, living depressed isn't living in full color. Depression kills a piece of you and traps you in a movie of anguish that you cannot turn off. My death was one of self enslavement to my own peril. I had a really hard time leaving the house, and being in a group setting for long periods of time. I used to hate these moments, and shame myself for "slowing down". I used to shame myself for not being fast enough. For not keeping up with my peers. For not being the first to bloom. For not blooming on time or in accordance to everyone else. I beat myself up internally for a long time.

Slowing down has given me a type of inner peace. The time the quarantine has given me has allowed me space to heal. Maybe I do not have corona, sure. Yet, depression can be deadly. Healing from a life long misery of never being able to lift yourself up out of this muddy quagmire of a mind --- when you know the earth could be full of sunshine and roses; feels better. It just, feels better to heal now.

I have allowed myself to slow down. I have allowed myself to move at a different pace. I have allowed myself to truly breath in the peaceful pond of source energy.

When I think back to the memory of Jason. I find the word "heal" to be an acceptable terminology not "die". Especially now dealing with patients and education on change. I like implanting that new word over the old memory that is tattered and worn. It feels better. Healing feels better than being stagnant. Healing feels better than death.

I want to focus on the light.

Maybe that is the gift this pause has given me? A new perspective.


Part II: Define Intelligence
"The last year or so in graduate school has made me really understand and chew upon two concepts. One being intelligence, the other being vocation* (notice, I didn't say career)."

I hope you read this little blurb like a journal exercise on intelligence, and me piecing together my thoughts after many months of thinking and chewing upon the topic. I feel a lot of peace writing this. I hope you get as much out of this as I did. I think this is quite a great re-frame of the topic.

note: Intelligence has been on my mind over the last year as I constantly compare my outcomes to those of my peer group around me. It has caused me to redefine my definition and also to think a bit more laterally. Three books have come to mind specifically about this. In these books intelligence is defined in such a beautiful method. So word for word I am going to copy pieces and parts of these three book and arrange them into an order that seems to fit my narrative.

I just wanted to give my deep gratitude for the authors that channeled these pieces of creativity. If these pieces are not directly quoted, I took the liberation of adding a few words, sentences, paragraphs to connect ideas and themes throughout the three books, enjoy:

"What is Intelligence? Intelligence is not a matter of IQ, grades in school, or years of study. Intelligence is instead a 'way of acting.' This means that if you act intelligently, you are smart. If you act stupidly, you are stupid, irrespective of grades or measures on an IQ test."

"What, then by definition is an intelligent act? The answer is simple. An intelligent act is something you do that moves you closer to something you really want. A stupid act is something you do that does not move you closer to something you want or, even worse, moves you away from it."

"You personally define a smart or stupid act when you decide what you want and what you don't want. As Winston Churchill said, 'I long ago stopped listening to what people said. Instead, I look at what they do. Behavior is the only truth.'"

"Action is everything. How can you tell what a person really wants, thinks, feels, believes, and is committed to? Simple. You just look at his or her actions. It is not what people say, wish hope, or intent that counts. It is only what they do, and especially what they do when faced with temptation or put under pressure"

"Someone says, 'I want to be successful in my career and in life.' [Yes,] He [does] actually believes it. But then you observe his behavior. This person arrives at work at the last possible minute, leaves at the first possible minute, and hurries home so that he doesn't miss the latest episode of his favorite television show. Clearly, based on his behavior, his goal is not to be successful in his career but rather to watch television. How do you know? Because that is exactly what he is doing -- every night after work."

note: In order to make intelligent moves in your life, you first must know where you are. And afterwards you must be aware of the direction that you want to go. Intelligent moves in life travel in line to where you want to go. But what if -- after years of diligent work towards the goals that are outlined in gold upon the horizon. Are not that bright up close? Just because I make intelligent moves does not mean I get a guaranteed outcome of success.

"All those years when I was diligently laboring away at both my day jobs and my writing practice, I knew there was never any promise that nay of this would work out."

"I always knew that I might not get what I wished for --- that I might never become a published writer. Not everybody makes it to a place of comfortable success in the arts. Most people don't. And while I've always believed in magical thinking, I wasn't a child, either; I knew that wishing would not make it so. Talent might not make it so, either. Dedication might not make it so. Even amazing professional contacts -- which I didn't have, in any case -- might not make it so."

"Creative living is stranger than other, more worldly pursuits. The usual rules do not apply. In normal life, if you are good at something and you work hard at it, you will likely succeed. In creative endeavors, maybe not. Or maybe you will succeed for a spell, and then never succeed again. You might be offered rewards on a silver platter, even as a rug is being simultaneously pulled out from under you. You might be adored for awhile, then go out of fashion. Other dumber people might take your place as critical darlings.

"The patron goddess of creative success can sometimes seem like a rich, capricious old lady who lives in a giant mansion on a distant hill and who makes really weird decisions about who gets her fortune. She sometimes rewards charlatans and ignores the gifted. She cuts people out of her will who loyally served her for their entire lives, and then gives a Mercedes to that cute boy who cut her lawn one. She changes her mind about things. We try to divine her motives, but the remain occult. She is never obliged to explain herself to us. In short, the goddess of creative success may show up for you, or she may not. Probably best, then, if you don't count on her, or attach your definition of personal happiness to her whims. Maybe better to reconsider your definition of success period.

"Maybe better to reconsider your definition of success period.

"For my part, I decided early on to focus on my devotion to the work about all. That would be how I measured my worth. I knew that conventional success would depend upon three factors -- talent, luck and discipline -- and I knew that two of those three things would never be under my control. Genetics randomness had already determined how much talent I'd been allotted, and destiny [had a] randomness [to her] would [have already] account[ed] for my share of [the] luck. The only piece I had any control over was my discipline. Recognizing that, it seemed like the best plan would be to work my ass off. That was the only card I had to play, so I played it hard.

"Mind you, hard work guarantees nothing in realms of creativity. (nothing guarantees anything in realms of creativity.) But I cannot help but think that devotional discipline is the best approach. Do what you love to do, and do i with both seriousness and lightness. At least then you will know that you have tried and that whatever the outcome you have traveled a noble path."

"I have a friend, an aspiring musician, whose sister said to her one day, quite reasonably, "what happens if you never get anything out of this? What happens if you pursue your passion forever, but success never comes? how will you feel then, having wasted your entire life for nothing?"

note: I feel like that has been the question I have been asking myself forever. I feel like her hesitation to why her sister would want to pursue a life of reckless abandonment of creativity. It's not stable. It's not something you can count on -- like a big corporation. Yeah, I really should count on really big corporations for my life long stability. I shouldn't put any efforts into myself; I should instead invest into the interest of others! When they make it big, maybe I'll get a bonus.

note: I say this with a sarcastic undertone, because I am illuminating a certain mindset I've had for a long time. My dad is currently working part time. My brother, an undergraduate potential dental student, is working as his only assistant. They are down to four employees. My dad's entire retirement was built mostly upon the steadiness of his business. And now? It makes me wonder how much I actually want to put into others dreams instead of building my own.

note: My father built his incredible business, and at the end of the day -- his moderately large dental practice was brought to it's knees. Will he ever be able to recover to the likes of what he once was doing? What about his associates? What about his associate that just left his office last year to work for herself? What will her practice look like next year? These are unpredictable times. How long will I spend building, doing, and bleeding for someone else's creativity?

note: So it blew this comet through my mindset of what stability looked like. Maybe, at the end of the day -- even a man as strong and powerful as my father... maybe he didn't always know all the answers, even now.

note: I can't focus on some vision of success that may or may not come. Maybe it's just for the sheer joy of creating. The sheer joy of how it feels to finish a piece. The healing that comes from bringing something from idea to fruition -- maybe that's the true reasons creatives -- create.

"My friend, with equal reason, replied, "If you can't see what I am already getting out of this, then I'll never be able to explain it to you."

"when it's for love, you will always do it anyhow."

note: There's another question that haunts me at night? What gives me the ability to THINK I have something special to offer the world that others do not? What makes me believe in this concept of magical thinking? This was a belief that I had to re-wire. Am I pathologically unique? Am I so alone in this world -- really? Or is it all an illusion that I am so different than every other human being that is walking this earth. I read this in the book, Mastery by Robert Green. And I believed the concept of primal uniqueness covers the exact form of "everyone has something special to offer" fluffiness that I want to believe in. If I have this talent -- why shouldn't other? Why do I think I am so blessed to be so creative, so emotional, so full of spirit and ideas?

note: Primal uniqueness teaches me -- that you and I are no different. That I create because of what is inside of me; that is my art form -- the body of work that I create over my lifespan. You have a primal uniqueness that you can hone and harness to bring your creation into the world.

"This primal uniqueness naturally wants to assert and express itself, but some experience it more strongly than others. With Masters it is so strong that it feels like something that has its own external reality -- a force, a voice, destiny. In moments when we engage in an activity that corresponds to our deepest inclinations, we might experience a touch of this. We feel as if the words we write or the physical movements come so quickly that they are coming from outside of us. We are literally inspired the Latin word meaning something from outside breathing into us.

"Let us state it in the following way: at your birth a seed is planted. That seed is your uniqueness. It wants to grow, transform itself, and flower to it's full potential. It has a natural, assertive energy to it. Your Life's Task is to bring that seed to flower, to express your uniqueness through your work. You [all of us] have a destiny to fulfill. The stronger you feel and maintain it -- as a force, a voice, or in whatever form -- the greater your chance for fulfilling this Life's Task and achieving Mastery.

note: You can quickly see that we all have the seed. It is up to all of us to cultivate it in whatever means possible. That is our responsibility. Also not to define success in terms of fame, praise of ones work -- but rather in the humbleness and simplicity of sheer creation. What did I create? What do I have control over in my life? What am I adding to the body of work that I will cultivate throughout this life cycle on the Earth? How will I utilize my talents that I was given? Will I slow down enough to notice them sparkle? Will I enjoy my own gifts? Isn't that the point?

note: To create is to heal. The creative is simply healing from a wound deep inside themselves that they want to express in the simplest way possibly. Sometimes that healing comes across as joyful music, and sometimes films in which you cannot stop crying. Some art will turn into a Picasso. Some is just meant for the moment. Don't keep this limiting belief from stopping the creative in you.

The three books I quoted are: Get Smart! by Brian Tracy; Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert; and Mastery by Robert Greene.

note: ily :)

The best thing for mental health? Writing. Creating. Healing. And allowing the process of healing to take place.

I was born to break the mold.

Dear Alicia Keys.

Your song underdog inspired this poem.
I am sure you have lots of people —
Inspired by your work.
Sending you songs and poems.

And maybe I am just one of the lot.

I just connected a lot with your song.
I cried, I connected to that spirit in the music
I am a mother-student-doctor
that you wrote about.
And I sobbed as your song
“randomly” came on during
my gym training session.

I am also a writer, amateur — sure.
And I wrote this:

Not for you, or to you —
But in ode to, your incredible song.
That moved me — and isn’t the the point?

Of being a singer/songwriter?
Don’t you want to hear from the flocks that attracted your song into their life and heard that little spirit speak to them too?

I hope one day, you might read this.
And even if you don’t.
Thank you for helping me verbalize my fears.
And to verbalize my strength —
I was born to break the mold.

Those little voices in my head
that I didn’t stop; reflected onto the physical realm
and continued to haunt me there.
They both said, “you won’t make it.”

They said I’d never make it —


I did have a lot of reason
Of why I thought I’d fail
I too had doubts.

Big doubts, small doubts, little doubts

I continuously dig deep,

I dug deep,
I sank within,
I conjured up,

I told them,
Yes, I have a ton of vulnerabilities
And supposed weaknesses —

I told them,
It is with those obstacles,
That I build launch pads

Honey, baby, sweetie-pie to you, sir.
I was born to break the mold.
I was born to be free.

I was born with a primal seed hidden inside.

Dig deep, you were too.


During my run this little paragraph came out as well. And I just wanted to share it. I thought it was good, perhaps may need refining. But the elements of feels are all there. I truly love the symbolism.

The shadow emerges before the sun. The eagles shadow flew above the roof top with spread wings. The eagle flew, in America — during the pandemic. I saw the shadow first, as I looked up. There. I again saw the eagle in all his glory. His back to the sun; he shown in all his goodness and greatness. The eagle — flew on Easter during my morning run. Telling me to Rise up. I too, saw my shadow first.

What is your vision of how these types of platforms could shape our world in 100 -200 years? Thoughts?


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