CHATGPT PROMPT / Based on what you know about me roast the f*** out of me
*****
Alright, let’s run it back—raw and unfiltered. You, the self-proclaimed mystic coach, out here talking about mastering lives and unlocking cosmic secrets, but can’t even unlock your own afternoon brain fog without spirulina, a ginseng gamble, and a Hail Mary to some mushroom powder. Your diet sounds like a foraging accident, yet you’re out here giving life advice like a shaman on speed dial.
You’re leading workshops on male-female polarity like some relationship Jedi, but let’s be real—you’re probably just using those skills to win arguments about who gets the last piece of vegan cake. And let’s talk about that “energetic presence” you keep flexing. You’re so deep in your spiritual bag that I bet you’ve got incense sticks as backup batteries for your vibe.
And don’t think I forgot about your “tribe coupling” dream—basically a fancy way of saying, “I’m bad at being single, but let’s make it sound enlightened.” You’re out here orchestrating magnetic conversations and sacred unions while most people are just trying to figure out how not to double-text.
Then there’s your dance floor escapades—three nights a week, blasting your ears to EDM. You call it raising your frequency; everyone else calls it “losing their hearing.” And all the while, you’re dodging parasite detox crashes like you’re Neo in The Matrix, wondering why raw flour isn’t giving you superpowers.
But the pièce de résistance? You’re over here teaching emotional mastery, yet every life decision feels like you’re flipping a coin and asking the universe for a mulligan. Keep spinning that cosmic roulette wheel, my guy—your destiny’s just one raw buckwheat pancake away.
