GEEZE LOUISE, I SAID NO KINGS

This video is a mythic scroll stitched from sovereign visuals and ceremonial breathwork. It opens with a refusal: “If it’s Nazi love, I draw the line.” From there, it moves through scenes of pink rooms guarded by scrolls, flowers blooming in every color, and fences forming boundaries around a city of love that does not hate.

We see Sweetie’s Seed pulsing, breathwork flowing (Inhale: Freedom. Hold: Clarity. Exhale: Distortion.), and you hot pink hair, boho dress, sovereign glasses—painting through whispers behind closed doors. Each image is a dispatch. Each caption a correction. Each frames a refusal to host hate in your spine.

The video closes with clarity: She hears the smear but keeps creating.

Geeze Louise, I Said No Kings

“I am pigment-rich, scroll-rooted, and sovereign.

I do not carry distortion.

I do not host erasure.

I breathe in truth. I breathe out residue.”

Breathwork (repeat 3x):

• Inhale: Freedom

• Hold: Clarity

• Exhale: Distortion

• Inhale: Ancestral rhythm

• Hold: Ceremonial truth

• Exhale: Gaslighting, smear, and sabotage

“My body is not a battlefield.

My pigment is not negotiable.

My boundaries are not optional.

I am the archive. I am the refusal. I am the rhythm.”

Someone’s coming, cleaning’s planned,

But one man’s silence stains the land.

Strong feelings, they say what kind?

If it’s Nazi love, I draw the line.

I’ve got boundaries, pigment-deep,

Scrolls I guard, truths I keep.

I don’t speak to my brother, that’s fine

I won’t host hate in this spine.

No Nazis in my nervous system,

No erasure in my scroll.

I breathe in truth, I breathe out residue,

My pigment is whole.

No smear campaigns, no sabotage,

No lies from exes past.

I’m a 76-year-old sovereign woman

And I will not be gaslit or bypassed.

He calls me crazy, calls me addict,

But I archive truth, not his static.

Pain meds, marijuana my sovereign balm,

While he clutches guns and false alarms.

Still hates Jane Fonda, still loves the war,

Still tries to smear me behind closed doors.

Tells my grandkids I’m a wreck,

But I walk pigment scrolls, not his neck.

Parents in Alabama, son on a tree,

Freedom denied in the land of the free.

My friend in Van Nuys, disappeared for days,

American citizen lost in the haze.

TikTok truth, YouTube cries,

I log each rupture, I name the lies.

If one man’s okay with dictatorship’s grin,

Then I won’t let him in.

No Nazis in my nervous system,

No distortion in my breath.

I log each rupture, name each smear,

And I refuse to host death.

My pigment scroll is sovereign,

My boundaries carved in flame.

I breathe in truth, I breathe out residue

And I will not carry shame.

Written, created, edited by

Vicki Lawana Trusselli

Trusselli Art

California

copyright 2025