“The Bluest Eye” By Toni Morrison

A multi-narrative story about the Breedloves, with Pecola Breedlove as the main protagonist. A family characterized for lacking pulchritude, violence and being poverty stricken. Matters are made dire when little Pecola is raped and impregnated, by her drunkard father Cholly. Desperate for an ounce of respite in her miserable life, the abused girl wishes for a pair of blue eyes. Slavery is over, but systemic racism remains alive and well through Jim Crow laws and more. Ensuring African Americans maintain an inferior, low quality life, while whites are put on pedestals of beauty and wealth through unfair advantages. Of course she believes being white adjacent will make her life better, at the time it would. A belief cemented by her mother Pauline, a maid for a well to do family.

Beautifully written, engaging and thought provoking, Toni Morrison deserves all the praise. Themes of incest, rape, racism, violence, pedophilia, religion and addiction keeps this on the banned books list. A satirized depiction pertaining to the generational effects of slavery, on the black diaspora in America. More importantly how vitriolic whites want their victims to live, dehumanizing us to justify their savagery and laziness. A must read, apt during pedophile and racist rapist Donald Trump’s Israeli led administration. Solidifying beauty is power through Pecola’s desire and the treatment of Maureen Peal in contrast (read AI Architects Want Pretty People Privilege). This book is timeless, giving me a clarity that’s left my soul detoxed, wrung out to dry, cleansed. Via: Target

“Once There Were Wolves” By Charlotte McConaghy

Inti Flynn moves to Scotland to reintroduce wolves to the land. The town is entirely against it, scared for their livestock and lives. Devoted to rewilding the environment, she refuses to yield and a war of sorts begins. Escalated by the shooting of a wolf, the murder of a man, and discovery of animal carcasses. Inti tries to figure out if it’s the wolves or someone framing them, in order to prevent the packs slaughter. Life at home is equally hectic. She’s the caretaker of identical twin Aggie Flynn, who is silenced by the brutality of her husband and father. Men have failed them, demurring Inti from entering a relationship with chief of police Duncan MacTavish. Head over heels in love, she discovers he too, has a dark past tainted by violence.

Worth the read. The book started off a little slow for me, but picks up quickly. Delighted I kept going. It’s easily become one of my favorites. The parallels between wolves and people leaves the reader questioning the quantifiers of humanity. Told in two different timelines, this story has depth. The complex characters finding a nook in my heart. Themes of domestic violence, trauma, gender, man vs nature, love, duty and family, the plot is multi-dimensional. The characters are endearing, as they grapple with their past selves affecting the present. Bittersweet and beautifully told. Via: MacMillan Publishers

Suffering Freed Me From A Karmic Blood Tie

Synchronicity at its finest. I got confirmation of something regarding my family, after being inundated to look into my ancestry, a curse on my maternal bloodline, grandfather this, grandfather that, for months. Almost a week ago I had a eureka moment, as my high school would say to describe epiphanies. All the suffering I’ve endured for years, especially being starved and severely financially abused in the past six going on seven months, was not in vain. As promised, it all makes sense, eventually. Every time I’ve suffered it’s turned out to be protective, this time is no different. Further solidifying there is no such thing as coincidence, everything happens for a reason. Whether one figures it out depends on how tuned in they are with the universe, how aligned they are with their purpose, the strength of their faith to trust the process.

Growing up my mother regaled me with stories of my grandfather, specifically his criminality. Murdering his first wife Linda, he absconded jail by going to Voodoo Mary, where he turned to black magic for freedom. When he’d physically fight Linda she’d bang on the wall, signaling the neighbors to call the cops. However when they arrived she’d cover for him. Subsequently my grandfather would curse the neighbors out, threatening to hurt them as well. Irate, they decided not to help her next time, which turned out to be the last night of Linda’s life. My grandfather ended up pushing her, causing her to hit her head on a table and die. Fleeing the scene immediately, he sought the help of Voodoo Mary, turned to the dark side, sold his soul and had her death written off as a mere accident. It was reported that she slipped and fell on her own accord, despite the neighbors testimony and amassed evidence from previous calls.

Now a satanist, he didn’t just give his soul, but four generations of his offspring. This is typical, deals with the a Devil are usually intergenerational (read The Rothschilds Funded The Holocaust 2). Answering the question that’s been weighing on me since finding out my husband Lewis Dvorkin, sacrificed himself to save me from Mick Jagger, aka Satan (read Mick Jagger Stalked Me Before Birth). How can this lesser entity kill a Divine?

Bodies restrict Divines and blood is a powerful thing. I was caught in a karmic ancestral tie. Meaning contrary to what my grandfather promised, I go to heaven instead of hell, thus I was allowed to die early as a trade in for his deal (read Revelation 10: God Had On Timberlands). Ending the world. If I die before completing my tasks, everyone dies; I’m Shakti, the energy that moves the universe. Lewis being clairvoyant prevented this from happening, not at all a heroin addict, but Shiva swallowing the poison to save the world. Telling me he’d go first to protect me, one day I’ll understand. Only Lewis is beautiful enough inside & out to be Jesus/Shiva- we have numerous avatars. My baby is a hero.

My grandmother also prophesied my future. Telling me I was going to change the world and she’d watch from heaven. Giving me speeches I memorized, but was too young to understand until now. Even though I was saved, I still had to clear my ancestral line of this blood tie. The ultimate trickster referred to in the above tarot is Satan, who traps humans and worsens their fates. Taking on all this suffering I’ve paid what my grandfather promised of me. Blood and witchcraft being my domains, with Mick Jagger as my ultimate enemy in every lifetime, this debt was hindering me. No wonder he said I grew up with demons, that family members I wouldn’t let him kill, despite him repeatedly asking, were due. Taking my mother as his birthday gift this year. As the generational curse breaker, often the black sheep, I was strong enough to end it. However, the rest of my family who had lesser tests, which would’ve been to help me, cannot say the same. They did the exact opposite in the past five years, adding to my abuse. A part of demonic legions, unable to see I was their blessing and test. Minus the one uncle who saw this was a toxic line and behaved accordingly. Everyone else will fulfill the karmic contract, as promised to the Devil by my grandfather. While I’m free, finally! I don’t owe Mick Jagger shit. It’s over for the ops, everything I do, spells I cast, will be amplified. Enjoy this time, Kali & Shiva. Via: VibinWithCiiCii

Updated: 12/06/2024 11:34pm

Must See TV: The Fall Of Diddy

Did I have something to do with Diddy’s arrest? Yup, 100% and I have the documentation to prove it, as usual. Before I knew what all was going on, I gave him a deal with a simple contingency. Upon breaking it, Diddy was incarcerated almost immediately. When a Goddess speaks you listen or suffer the consequences, something I’ve showed you all repeatedly. Hubris keeps these fucking idiots from applying the lesson.

I watched The Fall Of Diddy. An absolutely riveting five part documentary. Devouring episode after episode, I’m shocked the man is still alive. My tolerance for drugs is no small feat (in my prime), but even I couldn’t hang. Trust me that’s saying A LOT! Diddy took party like a rockstar to Keith Richards proportions.

Anyone who questioned a word of what I’ve said about Hollywood is an asshat. Paying people off after committing crimes, scapegoating others (like he did Shyne), invalidating black women (the victim of that infamous nightclub shooting), satanic sacrifices for power, prostitution, domestic violence, it’s ALL there. I’m owed apologies and have only received two (those who violated will pay dearly).

Why Diddy refused the plea deal is beyond me, I saw the footage, I heard the audio, you did those things. Whereas I didn’t accept a plea, because I orchestrated the entire Melanie Hamrick ordeal. Innocent of any wrongdoing, my case was dismissed (read Melanie Hamrick: Case Dismissed). That being said, the biggest takeaway from this is: whatever Diddy’s done is NOTHING compared to what Mick Jagger, their boss and Satan incarnated, is doing. Not even close. I want the Jagger’s arrested before I take them out or else. There will be ZERO compromises and I’m more than willing to end civilization for it. Enjoy that time, Athena & Horus. Via: IMDB

PSA: Manipulation Isn’t Change

Don’t let them do you dirty. This was all my ex ever did to me, pretend to change and manipulate. Learn self-love. Respect yourself enough to walk away. You’re worth more, you can do better. Via: 80sVintageComics

Feeling Safe Is Essential

Prior to my last relationship being, feeling…safe, wasn’t a priority to me. In truth I’d never thought about it when searching for love, but life tints different after an abusive partner. Having someone make me feel safe is now number one, there is no other way for it to be having PTSD (read My PTSD Diagnosis). My body carries that trauma, as does my brain. Getting my nails done, having someone float me around in a pool, getting a colonic, “You’re so tense, relax, relax,” they all say. That’s when I realize how rigid I am, because I live in fight or flight mode, everyday, subconsciously.

For anyone to think they can aid in hurting me and I’d be interested in anything with them is deluded, disgusting and equates to Chace Crawford, or Chris Evans. How fucking dare you? Sebastian Stan saved my life, you really think you could ever offer me more? He’s my twin flame and he acts like it. It’s funny, the whole time they thought he was making a fool of himself, confirming their toxic masculinity, racism, and how they believe women should be treated poorly. He’s crazy, but he’s no fool. They deserve everything that’s coming to them. You reap what you sow, so they earned it. White trash. Who makes you feel safe? Is that something you think about? Why or why not? Via: Dark Space Arts

Updated: 5/17/2024 12:10am

Period Peek-A-Boo And Poverty

Period anxiety is real. Recently my period has started skipping a day, leading me to falsely believe it’s finished. Only to emerge an entire 24 hours later for 24 hours. As if- designating underwear for the sole purpose of bloody destruction, hoping it appears at an appropriate time, praying you don’t stain someone else’s sheets with its stealth arrival, or worse bleed in public- isn’t enough. Yes please add period peek-a-boo to the bingo card (I’m being facetious).

Solution: panty liners, making me feel for all the people suffering from period poverty. I can afford the extra security, the only time I couldn’t was while dating Mick Jagger. A person who financially abused man remorse, wanting access to my main bank account to take everything.
Refusing to ask a single person for help, I relied solely on GOD. Budgeting whatever remaining money I had, by using paper towels when the last of my tampons ended. This was the only time I’ve experienced period poverty, under the trance of an abuser that Sebastian Stan broke me out of. Reflecting back I wouldn’t change a thing, I grew up privileged. Until that abusive relationship I was unaware sneakers were sold without insoles! Now all I see are a million things I’m going to help fix, period poverty being one of them. What if I didn’t have paper towels? There are people who don’t, having to skip school or work, sacrifices they shouldn’t be forced to make. Via: By Make Up Heaven

Amber Heard And Mick Jagger Are…

Sex Crazed Domestic Abusers. Times Up.

Via: The Rolling Stones Zonee

Generational Karma And Curses

How many times have I almost hit my head and died?
-On my grandmother’s death anniversary, almost cracking my head against the rocks at the beach.
-When I took a Seroquel bar from a stranger. She was right advising me to break it into eight pieces “…this stuff can kill you.” I took an eighth, slept walked (which I’ve never done before or since), turned the stove on, placed an empty pot next to it, and on my way back to my bedroom passed out in my stepdad’s room. My head just missing the edge of his wooden bed frame. Since I fell from standing my skull would’ve cracked. I woke up encircled by faces looking down at me, everyone thought I died.
-In gym when Sebastian C. (who looks exactly like Will Smith, but in that moment pulled a Michael Jordan) competitive af in Strasser Ball (which was really European handball, but our hot gym teacher gave it his name), slammed me into the ground from standing. Literally I saw stars, cartoon depictions of head injuries are completely accurate. The nurse wanted his blood, she cursed him the fuck out. In his defense we were all competitive, sore winners and losers.
-When I was wasted and just missed slamming my head on a large paint bucket from standing.
-At Blue Smoke, in the attic I slammed my head on the thick metal piping and had to be escorted down after taking a minute to gather my bearings.

”Something is trying to kill me,” I said to myself and others.

My grandfather was a very evil and feared man, he wasn’t someone to fuck with. I barely knew him, only meeting him twice in my life that I can remember, if that. He was a domestic abuser, beating his women including my beloved grandmother whose right earlobe he split (for years I always lost my right earring and only a few back did I connect the dots. It’s her telling me she’s here). My grandmother who half my tattoos are dedicated to, with a third coming, was his second wife. His first wife was Linda.

My grandfather would abuse her often; she made a deal with the neighbors if she bangs on the wall call the cops. Except every time the cops came she’d cover for him, then he’d threatened them. One night Linda banged and banged and banged, but they didn’t make the call and she died. He pushed her so hard into the glass table her skull cracked. Fearing jail he left immediately seeking out the help of Voodoo Mary, selling his soul in exchange of escaping prison. When he returned, when the ambulance came, they ruled it an accident, that she tripped and fell. He got away with it in this world, but not the next.

People with high sexual energy are often healers, which is why after telling this story a million times, replaying it in my head, it didn’t make sense until I told Cara Delevingne. Everything clicked.

The domestic violence I’ve been going through, nobody helping (one person helped me astrally when I didn’t know I needed it, nor did I ask, I’m forever grateful), almost dying, I was paying for what my grandfather did to Linda!!!! That’s why I was always experiencing near death head injuries, just like Linda. Had I not figured it out I wouldn’t have escaped, finding myself in another bad situation, because generational karma and curses are real. That’s why the cards kept saying turn to your ancestors! The story of my grandfather was the key! Now I’m free.
Ancestry is important, what we do we pass down until it’s broken, or healed. Had I not resolved this it would’ve kept happening, it would’ve passed down to my kids epigenetically. Which this world can’t afford, each possessing the powers to save it. I can’t believe it took me this long.

After figuring it out I connected to her, she wants her story told. She wants people to know what happened to her, that it wasn’t fair. The first page of my book will be Linda’s story. I am so sorry, I’m sorry for what he did to you. You deserved better, women deserve better. He doesn’t get to take your peace in both worlds. Thank you. You are a hero, because of you a lot of abusive men are going to be exposed so they don’t hurt anyone again. I don’t know you, but I love you. Everyone will know your truth. I will dedicate my life to fighting domestic violence, I promise you this. And as for those reading it now, if there is a reoccurring negativity in your life look for the pattern then look to your ancestors. You may be reliving their karmic debt. Resolve it for yourself, for your offspring. Artist: Melanins Vibe Podcast

You Are Not Your Trauma

Yeah your trauma shapes you, but it doesn’t define you. You are so much more than that. As a victim of abuses, struggling to battle episodes of PTSD I know it’s easier said than done. Even a Goddess can be a victim of the mind, this is a body carrying me after all. I know I’m going through to empathize with people and help them. Experience is our best teacher. You aren’t just the residual effects of the bad things you went through. I’m an artist, an aesthete, a volunteer, a guardian of civilization, strong, a healer, a student, mystery solver, demon slayer, kindhearted…empower yourself, what are you? Artist: Louisa A Choi