|Jonathan Silver Scott|
Earliest song I played obsessively was Pat Benatar‘s Love Is A Battlefield. Jonathan Scott and I met on a battlefield, our first lifetime. January 17 is the day I was “officially” diagnosed with Hashimoto’s; this year, the Scott’s threw a birthday party…….for someone else. First “celebrity” thread I ever contributed…..was this; it’s dated August 8……day I returned to Twitter.
It’s weird we lived in the same city, same year; returned home same time…..because something beyond our control sidetracked our dreams. We’ve not met…..but for a time, was convinced I’d not be leaving this world before that happened. Crazy as it sounds…..moment I doubted, Jonathan “appeared” in my home…….flesh and blood; close enough to see every line on his face….spoke my name; fainted.
Have always referred to him as Jonathan Scott……for tagging purposes, but he’s been John…..”Just John” to me ever since Africa. Can’t say why…….just felt like I knew him; had seen him somewhere before…..though not as a Property Brother; or even a “Jonathan“.
Satisfied with the outcome of this journey; surprised Jonathan‘s small, supporting role erupted into such a huge one. There were other stories I wish could have been included……..like Grandma Maria and her cousin, Grandma Karoline; my rendition of Cinderella; the two Christmas gifts. John Schneider…….crudely carved our initials on my favourite tree; perpetually present on its replica in the spirit realm. Cars. Argentum….Atomic Number 47.
Ever notice…..as a teenager, Jonathan appeared very much a human-version of the cartoon character Ichabod Crane? Crane’s horse was important to him. Saw Jonathan brushing the mane of a mare. Not sure what was going on in his life…….but he was very attuned to this animal; almost like they were an extension of one another. Emotions between the two were of peace and tranquility.
I owe Mrs. Scott and her husband an apology. Have no doubt hundreds, perhaps thousands of women have written “literature” about their sons. Maybe they’re okay with it, but imagine at times it can be quite distressing. I meant no harm or disrespect. If it makes you feel better…….your sons were clothed at ALL TIMES, in my head. There was that one week in July 2018…….where for some reason the sight of one caused me to regress to a hair-twirling, nervous-giggly schoolgirl. Came….and passed; like bad gas. Seriously though…..I am sorry if my journey hurt your family in any way.
Jonathan……I do have one piece of advice for you. If you do meet this so-called “no-name” woman…..don’t waste your time trying to curtail the situation. Your fans will hate on her; but she knows it’s due to jealousy. She will be grateful to them; for reminding her daily just how blessed she is…..to be loved by you. Your biggest problem is you……constantly feeling it “necessary” to “protect” her. When surveying all your prospects, pick the one with big brass balls……to kick your butt everyday. You need it.
Can’t do myself up like Annalee Belle Dunn-Scott; get envious sometimes. All the things “normal” women can do to beautify themselves is on the “NO” list…….make-up, sprays, facials, dyes, surgery; reactions are too extreme. Even soap is a problem. Maybe Polar Diamond Skin-Tightening. Came across it while researching The Art of Precious Scars. Not available in my city; what I require can only be found in Vegas. Surprise. Surprise.
Been a year; interesting changes. Am crooning tunes…..without incurring howls and screeches from my Peanut gallery. Done alot of finger snapping; don’t seem to hurt as much. No more daily naps…..something I couldn’t do without since my early 20’s. Attempting to grow out my hair; still a challenge…..but better. “Fear of heights”…..forgot I wasn’t born scared. Not gone, but while in Vegas had this “need” to “climb the highest mountain”. Conquering the High Roller Wheel was my gift to myself. Loved the Eiffel Tower; could have stayed up there all day.
The Precious Scars was written in secret; no friends or family were privy to the details. Reason for this is…….felt like my life depended on its completion. Without documentation from the Property Brothers stating they were aware and not coming after me legally; followers or more than 4,000 views in the last eighteen months to prove I’m not crazy……couldn’t chance my family having me committed. Mom knew this…..which is why my only task was to write. Fame, recognition, Jonathan…….whatever else was to come she, Grandpa, and Fergus would to take care of the rest.
Things have come up these last couple weeks requiring my full concentration; it’s a good time to finish this phase. Won’t say good-bye….in case I decide to come back one day; regale the world with tales of how things went from here. Perhaps there could be some follow-up books……starting with my “stalker” and his “brothers”. Re-enacted their favourite scenes…….planted them throughout the Internet like Easter eggs. Is that creepy? I’m a little flattered.
There is one final thing I wish to share. It’s the last vision….one I got when asking the Universe how to best honour Jonathan Scott. He’s on a ranch…..years after his folks pass; their loss brings him here. Visits when things get crazy. Walks the fields, slapping the butts of large quadrupeds, sun shining brightly in a cloudless sky. Whatever issues may have existed between his dad and him in life…..all that remains is tranquility; peace. Feels closest to him here; walking in his footsteps.
|Jim & Jonathan Scott|
Okay; no more delaying. It’s time. Word of warning though…….IF you screw with my karma in any way, shape, or form Jonathan Scott……I will hunt you down and kick your a**! Been going to the gym, building my muscles, training……..for this very show-down! Bahahahaha! Seriously……