The Ridiculous Journey of My Name
People always ask me: “Queen Bdivine, where does your name come from?”
And honestly… sometimes I ask myself the same thing.
At first, I thought it was kind of a weird question. Like—do people really think names just pop out of thin air? Then again… maybe mine kinda did.
So let me tell you the story.
Once Upon a Time, There Was a Name…
Yep, my name had a life of its own.
One day, this tiny little name got bored. It wanted purpose. Like, it literally sat there thinking: “I can’t just chill here forever. I need to belong to someone fabulous.”
So it packed a tiny imaginary suitcase (probably pink, probably sparkly) and told its family:
“Don’t wait up. I’m going across time and space to find my person.”
And off it went.
The Struggle Was Real
But listen… traveling across dimensions is no joke.
The name spent years—okay, maybe eons—floating around. It was like the Airbnb of names: no home, no host.
Finally, it reached the border of Imagination and Reality. And guess what?
Its PASSPORT was expired.
Bruh. Imagine being a name and still having to deal with paperwork and taxes. Bureaucracy really does not care if you’re human or just a word.
So the name had to turn back, reapply, wait in line for eternity, and pay all these cosmic fees. It was pissed.
The Baby & The Sidewalk
Eventually, after all the drama, the name crossed into the new world.
But then… it had no plan. No friends. No job. It was just sitting on the curb like, “Damn. What now?”
Then—out of nowhere—it heard a baby cry.
And that was it. 💡
The name was like: “That’s my person. That’s who I’ve been waiting for.”
It put itself on that baby. That baby grew up to be… yours truly.
The voice you hear today, Queen Bdivine.
So yeah, that’s the story of my name.
A little weird, a little cosmic, and a little bureaucratic.
But hey—aren’t we all?
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