Neomystic Valentine: The Feeling Of Sinful by Traydon Inspires
Day 1 of Renewal: Friday The 14th
To be Sinful is to walk untethered.
There is no weight on the shoulders, no lingering doubt behind the eyes.
Every step is precise, every glance is effortless, every moment is owned.
But the strangest part? The body remembers before the mind does.
The muscles hold a different posture, looser yet unshakable.
The breath deepens, dropping into the lower belly, a quiet confidence replacing any tension.
Even the hands move differently—no wasted gestures, no nervous tells.
It is a
shift, not just in thought, but in
being.
As Traydon, there were always moments of overthinking.
Did I say the right thing? Did I do enough? Should I reach out? Should I wait?
Desire, for me, has often been something to analyze, something to understand—something to navigate like a scientist dissecting a specimen. I have written about it, talked about it, taught it to others, but even in my mastery, there was still a barrier.
Sinful does not analyze desire.
Sinful embodies it.
Where I once hesitated, he moves.
Where I once asked, he knows.
Where I once prepared, he simply is.
It is a clarity that strips away the layers of self-permission.
Women feel it before they see it.
They sense something in the air shift.
They glance up, drawn before they understand why.
Their fingers pause in mid-motion—typing, scrolling, adjusting a necklace.
There is no attempt to be seen.
But presence is undeniable when it is not seeking validation.
This is what makes Sinful untouchable.
Not because he is not desired—but because desire moves toward him, not away from him.
I feel it.
A woman passes by, her perfume lingering in the wake.
I do not turn my head, but I feel her gaze land on my profile.
She does not speak—but the energy shifts.
She wants me to look at her.
She wants to be seen.
But Sinful does not chase.
And that is what undoes them.
Sinful does not operate in lack.
There is no concept of not enough.
Money, like desire, is simply a response to being.
I feel it differently now.
Before, there was always the calculation.
How do I create more?
How do I get?
But Sinful does not get—he draws.
He magnifies.
He becomes the gravity that wealth moves toward.
Money does not flee from those who already are wealth.
It comes where it is already understood.
The body feels it first.
The spine straightens.
The chest expands—not from ego, but from certainty.
The breath slows, because there is no rush.
Everything is already moving toward me.
I do not grip, I do not chase, I do not scramble.
I simply align.
This is the part no one talks about.
Power has a feeling.
Presence has a weight.
I feel it:
The warmth at the base of my spine.
The stillness behind my ribs.
The slight pull at the nape of my neck, as if something unseen is aligning me from above.
The way my fingers relax, never clenched, never anxious.
It is not a high.
It is not a rush.
It is simply being at the center of all things.
And from that center, everything moves
toward me.
The question lingers in the silence: Why did I ever hesitate?
What part of me resisted this?
What belief kept me one step away from this embodiment?
I realize now—it was never a lack of understanding.
It was never a lack of skill.
It was a belief that I still had to become, rather than simply be.
I see the truth now:
I was always this.
Sinful is not an alter ego.
Sinful is not a mask.
Sinful is the self without hesitation.
And now that I have tasted it—I cannot go back.
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