I must admit something to myself…
You see, the journey of self-discovery is not for cowardice nor for the faint of heart.
First and foremost we must be honest with ourselves on the road to growing into the person we aspire to be despite ourselves not to mention the dark depths of our deepest individual idiosyncrasies, and that is the hardest mirror to stare into. Solely because the mirror of self-reflection is a cruel one with no escape from the truths that are before your actual eyes once you dare to challenge it. It always calls your bluff.
What I mean by actual eyes is, that point when you take a REAL look at the core of your humanity or lack thereof, and the “Dorianism” that you have painted full of self-righteousness and solely attributed glory of one's own esteem fades.
I’m a blanketed deceiver, and yes that covers more ground than I am willing to admit aloud. I grew up in a family of professional cons and criminals. I guess you can say I’m an honest thief. Never forget ladies and gentlemen you can always trust a thief. Because a thief will always be a thief. I remember the first time it happened when I was young, about 6 or 7 years old. I convinced a shopkeeper to give me food for a month for the kids I ran the streets with until we were caught by the authorities. That first lie was a rush. He thought he was helping a family with a sick mother not losing her kids. He stopped by an address once and made a delivery for said family and I waited for him with my “brothers and sisters” when he left we went to the abandoned house behind the house of the delivery and had our fill all month long.
We had run out of ideas one day on how we would feed the 8 of us. I remembered how one day I had fallen outside Sevicio’s Corner Mart on the north side of Denver, Colorado. Mr. Sevicio helped me up and dusted me off and as he walked me into the store and sat me on the counter and let me fill a little brown paper bag with all the candy it could hold, the person that was chasing me ran past the store and did not even see me at the counter. My little heart raced!
I just picked a wallet from a very well-dressed man getting into a taxi and ran until I couldn’t feel my little legs. I told Mr. Sevicio I tried to take a loaf of bread, some cheese, and some soup. I told this sympathetic kind-hearted fool it was to make dinner for my brothers, sisters, and very sick mom. I wrote a note that I would pay them back and gave it to the cashier and when she told me to get out of there. I thought she was telling me it was ok. Then she chased me with the fake cop and I fell running all the way here. I begged him not to tell my mommy, I just wanted to show I could help too.
It came to me as naturally as breathing. No one showed me the skills of manipulation and illusion I have…they just were…are...and with that match lit and first pour of gasoline, being the little mentirosa I am, I ignited one of the many talents I now have mastered over the years, the art of deception. This adorable little Afro-Latina-Indigenous-French Creole' angélique princesa that is an unsuspecting master crafter of lies was a hard act to follow with academy award-worthy queue crying skill. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! How could you not believe this face? Look at these eyes, eh! He helped us stay alive and healthy for 2 years and then he wanted to meet my mother and finally; see if she needed a job now that she was doing better. This old jerk had the nerve to call in a wellness check once he saw none of us were in school and was always at home when he drove by.
The nerve of this guy. Well, our gravy train had ended and one night while we were fast asleep we were all rounded up by CPS and separated for the next 11 years. Scattered like leaves in the wind. Until I ran into Saronne, my older sister. She was respectable now would you believe it? Well, as respectable as she could be given our nature. She recognized me at the library she works for while I was looking at blueprints of the local Museum. My sister, the librarian by day and exotic dancer by night paid her way through college. Can never change its spots and all that jazz. We talked for about an hour as I navigated the library to make it appear to anyone watching that she was just assisting me. We kept the conversation lowkey as we ventured rows of books that I merely used as props as we caught up on life. I did it this way for her safety of course. I told her no one could ever know we know one another and to tell none of our siblings we interacted, I made her promise me this. I hated to lose her all over again, but it would be safer this way and I said goodbye. I was part of a whole new world. Everyone got lucky for the most part with being settled with nice families and adopted or whatever.
Not me though…I was meant for the hustle and was too good not to. My foster parents were gangsters. Lucky me. It was like the fates knew what they were doing. I was happy in my role and life was exciting and never a dull moment. Oh, love, and wealth! The wealth I had acquired by being an asset to the firm was beyond anything a college degree could ever afford me. You’ll understand soon enough. My only issue was the detachment I had become so accustomed to when it came to matters of the heart that left a hollow in me.
I have not had the best luck with men and since I don’t know who my true father is, they say daddy issues are the root cause of the behavior I’ve displayed over the years…
It’s no wonder why I have never broken up with anyone no matter how serious it got. When I lost interest I just…I just…well, I ghosted so hard that they still mourn me to this day. I became this whisper of a myth…the haunting fantasy that will never fade no matter where their next relationship takes them. I unknowingly played the biggest illusion and deception on myself, believing I could go on like this. All of this. The way I live and work. There has to be more than this even though I love this so much. Seeing Saronne sparked something in me. I do want something different, one of these tomorrows.
In most ways, we all believe we can go on the way we do through life until we can’t.
I was just tasked with the biggest score of my life! This will require all my tools in the box as well as some things I have never done before. I have never missed my mark though and I don’t plan on it happening now. The destination is Itaewon, Seoul, South Korea. The item I have been tasked to retrieve is housed at a prominent playboy domain. This Labradorite has a metaphysical air and lore surrounding it. This particular labradorite known as the Aurora Diadem of Eternity is supposed to house a granule of time. Lore states that good and evil are inextricably linked to it and have been battling for eons for possession of this very rock.
Whatever that is supposed to mean. The buyer has presented me with a bounty of 4 trillion KRW for the quite large piece of superstitious nonsense. His financial credentials check out so I am game for the offered USD $2,935,764,400.00. He is paying for all of my supplies, documents, and surgery, and only wants the best for the task; someone willing to do anything to complete the mission. He’s come to the right place. Like I said, ghost.
That is right, that is enough that I can leave this amazing life for and enjoy a life I want to carve out for myself like a normal person eventually when the thrill is gone from chasing the rush. An untraceable life. This is my grail and I will succeed. Over the past few weeks, I have undetectably liquidated much to prepare for this whole ordeal.
All of my things except for my private collection no one knows about from my vault have been sold. My trophies are in a secured location thanks to the buyer as well as my money from all proceeds of those transactions. I am supposed to be headed to a location tonight to meet him at 9 pm. I am certainly not looking forward to getting surgeries, but apparently, I must become appealing to the man that is my mark. Shit, let’s do this!
Walking down the street, a car seems to be tailing me. I walk normally, not raising my blood pressure or changing my stride. I turn down the alley and once out of sight, I turn around to face the direction the car will most likely turn if I am truly being followed and stood there between the buildings with both arms extended and ready for what dreams may come to greet me. Goons are idiots like that. I pull out my chrome 380 ACP Colt Mustangs with pearl handles, locked and loaded with silver Blackhills 60 Gr Xtreme Defense ammunition. I stand still and cold, ready to make sure whoever is coming after me will know with surety if there is a God, and honored to be the one to make the introduction if pressed upon. The car slowly pulls around the corner and stops within 8 feet or so. The door opens. I walk over to the car steadily and see the buyer sitting inside. I disarm and sit inside, closing the door.
“Madam, are you ready? We must keep time.” He says to me excited and surprised at our initial introduction. It pleased him that I was ready on sight and prepared for danger. We drove past the Broncos stadium. I pulled a moderately thin blunt rolled with the finest Denver Blue Dream this side of the Mile High out of my case and motioned for permission to smoke. The buyer smiled politely and offered me a light. “You are very beautiful Azaria. It saddens me that we will need to change you to complete this mission. Your natural beauty will make for irresistible results upon completion of your procedures, however. I have the best surgeons in the world to get you prepared for the task at hand. You will have new teeth, a new body, and new hair, and we will need to tattoo you as well once you have healed. I will take care of everything for the next year including your recovery and training. Then we officially begin.” The buyer says as he lights my blunt with steady hands never losing eye contact.
“And the other part of our deal?” I say to him as I exhale at his goon sitting across from me in the twin-facing back seats and smile before returning to eye contact with his boss. “Yes…the specimen has been chosen and will have surgery to look like you do now. Upon the death of Azaria Tularemia-Vega, there will only be dental records that will be confirmed as your death and records sealed for your protection. You can never contact anyone that knows you and I'm sure you know that goes without saying. Complete what has been set before you and we will protect you all the days of your life. Fail and none of that will matter. Understood?” He says as he motions to smoke with me.
This old fuck just threatened, me? Laughable! He has no idea who he is messing with. The only reason they got close to me today is that I allowed myself to be seen and this is nothing new. I walk publicly about 4 times a week through the neighborhood running errands and scouting while I pick up payments and make drops. I then walk a bit before I return to my building to go through the tunnel to go home. No one knows that under my loft leases is a tunnel to my actual home; my lair and lab. I am a bit of a Brainiac and stealth tech guru. Everyone knows my work, but no one knows who created it. That is what frontmen are for. Besides, it helps keep a pipeline for pops to clean loot. Anyways I digress, I smile as I take my blunt out of his mouth and seductively take a hit and exhale at him as I say “Understood.”
We drive to Denver International Airport while I finish my smoke and shit gets real. I get excited at the sight of freedom being so close. Devote 1 year to prepare and get the rock and I’m done. No more shady jobs for my pops and putting my life on the line for a family that cares nothing for me. I was indispensable to them. This is my time to prove myself to myself and earn my life back. Triumph or death. There is a private plane waiting for me as we drive to the tarmac. With no luggage, no passport, and no contact with anyone I know I board the plane never to be seen by them again.
This is not my first fence with this cat although this is the first time meeting him face to face If he is even the actual buyer at all and not his concierge. When he wanted me to fetch for him the Two Laughing Boys with A Mug Of Beer a couple of years back, I thought it was an interesting request for this elderly Korean gentleman. Normally people want me to get occult items or jewels from me, but never art. So I welcomed the challenge to do this during an actual museum event. It's all about riding the rush. That is when I execute my best work. No rush, no glory I say.
Would love to go over the details, but you know illusionists and women never reveal their secrets. I mean sure the Dutch masterpiece has a certain charm to it, but overall not my first choice. I’m more of a contemporary and impressionist kinda gal. I have quite the authentic Monet collection to prove it. 2020 was an interesting year and that Autumn was a highlight for my accounts for sure. I built the bulk of my private collection 2017-2020. Did I mention how pristine of an art forger I am? If someone were to appraise vases in Buckingham palace today on the top floor...heads would roll! Haz would be so disappointed in me. I tried to be good. Shagging a prince was a much better trophy though. The Viva Haz Vegas days were quite a rush of their own. The spare certainly spared no vigor gone off the Tequila sunrise all the way to sunrise (Wink). The rumors are so not true a ginger he may be but he is so not soulless. Haz has soul alright. It's all in the hips...She sits back into her seat after boarding as she lip bites while blushing from thrashing flashbacks of her and the peoples' prince in her London flat enthralled in pleasure. I am sure my maid service wondered why things were always broken or sprawled over the counter but my bed was untouched. Why touch the bed when there were so many other things to touch while being...touched. I digress.
I sit back deep in my seat and try to rest a bit. No, I do not feel safe entirely, but I can handle myself so I lightly sleep. Itaewon, Seoul, South Korea, here I come. I wake as we are approaching the landing area about 28 miles off. I take a moment to start reading about my target again. Refreshing my mission gaze. He is quite attractive and I need to maintain tunnel vision. This is probably the most important mark of my career. I must execute this or be executed. I have never had those odds presented to me before. It is a different kind of rush than I am used to. I surrender.
Now I am in the hands of the Fates. I will trust and visualize and it will come out as I see it, it always does. It’s like this superpower that I have. Anyway, I have work to do…so I will let the Fates take it from here. They tell it better than I ever could.
Be seeing you, dolls (wink and pout).