She Said She Would... And She Did
The paradox of living a double life—waitress by day, entrepreneur and creative by night (or on any rare day off when inspiration strikes). It’s during those sacred windows of time that I chase new opportunities, free from outside noise and interference. But my intuition is sharp. When the energy shifts, I feel it. To the ones whose presence triggers my inner alarm—stay where you are. You’re not welcome in my space. I’ve seen your true colors, your hidden agendas, and your maladaptive patterns. And I’m not here for it.
Most days feel like a chaotic mix of confusion and quiet frustration. I’m stuck in a place I no longer want to be, where the familiar has grown stale—predictable, lifeless, and downright suffocating. Some people carry an energy so heavy, it could drain the light from the sun—if it even bothered to shine. The endless rain feels like it’s soaked into their very personalities. It’s as if the matrix swallowed them whole, and they forgot who they were before the world buried them in someone else’s expectations. Honestly—where is your fire? Your hunger? The part of you that still believes you’re capable of something more?
This is how I see it—and I genuinely pity anyone who ever doubted my vision or the depth of my talent. Empires aren’t built by chance—they’re built avec intention et cœur (with intention and heart). Mine begins with seven acres, a pond, a few horses, a chicken coop, some ducks, a couple of cattle, and for good measure—let’s add goats and a donkey named Steve. #ifyouknowyouknow
There will be a barn, an outbuilding, and the most charming little farm stand you’ve ever seen. By day, I’ll serve coffee and pancakes at some cafe, and by night, I’ll pour all the glorious creativity this old soul still holds. I’ll garden in the daylight, sip coffee on my porch, and watch my tendrils grow—oh so Mary, Mary, quite contrary.
And when the sun sets and the stalls are quiet, with the animals settled and the sky painted in hues only heaven can create or that I can paint, I’ll uncork a good bottle of white. I’ll soak in the stillness, give thanks for the journey, and lift a glass to the Almighty—for giving me both the insight and the foresight to dream a life this bold.
I’ve said it before—there’s a whole world out there, but too many never leave the same two streets they’ve always known. They settle into the rhythm of the same five people, the same five excuses, and wonder why nothing changes. Empires aren’t built from convenience, comfort, or conformity. No one’s building the way I’ve always envisioned—rooted in soul, sweat, and a vision beyond the shallow.
The victimhood is exhausting. The never-ending “woe is me,” the “pity me,” and the all-too-familiar cop-out—“I’m not you.”
No, you’re not. And maybe that’s the difference.
I need land, yes—built in promises. It's rooted in fields. In plans. In purpose. In proof that I’m not chasing circles or cheap validation. Growing, progressing, and harvesting a plentiful bounty of opportunity.
And yet, we see how that story ends (for you) over and over again—those who chased tail, cheap drinks, and less-than-desirable company in search of a promised land that never existed. Just empty bottles, faded thrills, and a life half-lived.
So, as many continue their routine drive to the same weekly paycheck—because certainty requires no imagination and the expectations have been set so low—they grow old, weary, and quietly drown in a life laced with regret. So, please… stay over there. You are not welcome in my vision. You made your choices, and I’ve made mine. Mine are built with intention, risk, and a fire that doesn’t dim just because it’s hard.
From my mountain, I see it clearly: you are never too old, and it is never too late—unless you give up and sell out to the lowest bid. And that’s exactly what you did.
Kitryn Marie
#writer #artist #entreprenuer #buildingempires #generationalwealth #fieldsofprosperity
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