You Are Here Alive

Life is short, make sure you value the things that matter.
Money is a social construct that only has meaning due to people, because people matter.

Love transcends death, money doesn’t.
Treat people how YOU want to be treated. Then treat them how they treat you.

In our one experience incarnated as these unique beings, everyone deserves happiness and to live the way they see fit (as long as you aren’t hurting anybody).

Making others objects of your desire as their sole purpose, disrespecting their boundaries, spreading greed, misery, as opposed to kindness, to gain power is a shit way to be. Your cruelty will come back to you times three.


**Are you callous when watching injustice, or human suffering? Why? How, how do you live with yourself?

Poet: The Melody H

Five Black Candles Overseas

“Someone in your family is doing black magic on you, they’re jealous. They don’t want you to be better than them. I see someone going overseas lighting five black candles. I see it’s your father.”

This woman didn’t try to upsell with cleanses, nor did she charge me. “Omg your energy, come sit with me I have to tell you something.” I was on break from Follia heading to Hotel Tortuga (a now closed Mexican restaurant) when a small white brunette woman from a Slavic background– poaching people in front of a gym a few doors before my destination, stopped me. Many street seers have done this, my infectious energy drawing them like moths to a flame, bees to pollen, flies to shit. Giving me a message was so crucial they physically inserted themselves into my personal bubble.
Upon receiving the news I believed it to be my estranged biological Haitian father, a fluent voodoo practitioner. It must have been him I responded, except there are six of us… it didn’t add up.

“My brother, my two sisters, my mom, my stepdad, me. Why would he only light five candles? Unless he didn’t know there was a boy.” She was also confused, because silently we both knew black candles are for protection.

When I shared this experience with my stepdad over a year later his replies were suspicious, guilt ridden.
“Who told you that? When? What did they say again?”
Now my stepdad is not the brightest. Great at architecture, construction, renovation work, but intelligent? No. Basic knowledge escapes him, he reminds me of a caveman banging on things and grunting. He’s amenable, with little desire to expand his knowledge via research. Having never worked in a restaurant he had the audacity to tell me where you eat doesn’t matter, it all comes out the same and the people working at restaurants don’t know what’s in the dish. Who cares? “Food is food, you yam it.” Sage Antiguan advice. Having been in the service industry for years I explained to him how incredibly wrong he was, not only were you required to know what was being served you were tested on it and needed to time your orders by sequence of service, failing held consequences (write ups, firings). Furthermore you had to know the beverage menu and pairings, that’s the bare minimum. Beyond taste aversions there were allergies, ignorance meant death. He was finally silent. How idiotic did you have to be to tell me, someone with experience, how a job you’ve never done works? He’s sexist, loud, inconsiderate and wrong.
His response confirmed he was the person who lit the candles.

Black candles are for protection, the missing one was for me. Just like childhood when he would take Whitney on shopping sprees in elementary school, announcing she got clothes because she was his kid. A sensitive child he use to pick on me, but if a man pulled up he wasn’t about that life. Part of is was punishment for my not calling him dad, which had nothing to do with him and everything to do with me being uncomfortable. At this point I was like eight you’ve known me since I was one, you had the chance to implement this but chose division.
Just like signing only my sister up for ballet, my mom having to get my uncle to buy me a laptop for school, my uncle paying for my senior trip, my mom having to sneak money for me to go to prom (thank god my teachers were UES Jewish women, my gym teachers silk halter Bebe dress fit me like a glove), just like all my siblings taking swimming classes but me, just like not helping me through college, just like taking me to his family holiday events with my sister and while she was showered in gifts I was forgotten about so they put together a measly card with twenty bucks, even though they knew I was coming (that’s why I stopped going), just like I’ve caught him red handed gathering items from my mother or me, just like he turns men interested in me into him, Genc and Mick both turned on me, or all my failed situationships, it was him doing black magic. Pay attention to patterns.

He has always sets me up to fail not wanting me to be better than his blood children, but spoiling me enough to be spoiled. Like when I went over my phone bill by 24 hours and he switched me to unlimited data, or furnishing my first apartment. The mental capacity of a child, raising my sister with delusions of superiority. Causing her to get angry when overshadowed, the way racist whites are when they see colored people with better lives. Bitch please. Everything makes total and complete sense and now I’ll act accordingly. What he did to me, I’ll pay him back in kind times three. Via: Queer Prints

Black Magicians Of All Kinds

I said it before it was confirmed via the cards. If you’re keeping up you would know the Kardashian Jenner West coven, Melanie Hamrick, her son and bloodline along with their allegiances will go. Darkness never beats out light enjoy your time before a fiery goodnight. To everyone else be blessed, I tried to save as many as I could but it is your fate. Via: Divine Serpent Fire & The Divinity Dealer

Mark 8:36: You Are But A Soul

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

The sun is setting on for so many of you. You are but a soul, everything else mean nothing. Profit and oppression over people…you will learn your place. Via: Binsgram

Types Of Childhood Trauma

A ton of childhood inner wounds are coming up specifically regarding the father figure in my life, my stepdad and how it’s played a bigger underlying role than I once believed. When I moved out I rarely spoke to my parents, forcing them to create a bond. Reflecting back I see how he’s taken his mother issues out on my mom to this day. It’s all been so clear, but sometimes you can’t see things until it’s time. A lot of the stress my mom took out in our relationship is due to how he treats her. He purposely puts her in bad situations to feed off her negativity, never considers her when making decisions, makes more than enough and barely gives her anything, especially when she wanted to take a class. He leaves her to do it on her own, so she tried to get help through aid and was denied because he makes too much. She deserves better than spending thirty years of marriage this way. I think how she had me at 16 and has barely experienced life without kids weighing her down like albatrosses. I use to think what does she have to complain about? She spent most of her time as a housewife on the Upper East Side, she could have done something, but she couldn’t because someone took away that foundation and dragging my baby sister back and forth to chemo from birth was no walk in the park. I’m grateful recent experiences gave me a truer understanding of her life. Otherwise I never would have seen her reality.

Childhood is important it shapes us all, kids are little people who didn’t ask to be here and I’m sure if you look at yourself or your parents, you’ll see the way it’s affected your beings. Break the cycle if it’s toxic. Are there negative things from childhood hindering you today? Via: The Holistic Psychologist

Pick A Crew: Prince & MJ Or Haring & Basquiat

Weekend hangout are you meeting up with the legendary musicians, or iconic artists?

Via: The_1990s_World & Zane Zane Eyewear

Focus On Green Flags Too

Green Means Go.

Being a twin is hard, but until my twin goes from red flags to green ones it’s a no go. Spoiled by my love he wants it without doing his part, he feels entitled. It’s hard for my twin to face their behavior that’s why Mick couldn’t write his autobiography. I hope he can break his toxic patterns, stop trying to make me a throw rug. He’s succeeded being this way, but have you if you can’t face your reflection? Via: Jen Peters

Still Writing My Stories

Bet your bottom dollar. I just need to get back to my aesthetic, from the way people are behaving you’d think they weren’t racist, complicit with racism, bullies, trolls, evil, talentless, insecure, talentless nepo-babies, or dingbats who don’t take accountability. Oh, that’s because you are. Trash people. Trash people who came bothering me, running their mouths about me like I know you hoes, when I was minding my business. Did I get it right? Writing my truth releases low vibrations freeing me from an energetic prison. It’s cathartic. My toxic trait is not speaking up until I’m angry, trying to protect others for the sake of avoiding drama. It’s not my job, call out shitty people in the moment. They don’t feel bad, why should you? Via: Iconic_Beauties

Black Women Are Everything…

For everyone and you feel entitled to it. Fuck off. We aren’t your mammies. If we aren’t into the vibe let us be. Never forget I was minding my business from jump tho. Black women aren’t here for you. Via: Official Black Wallstreet