Reflecting On Genc Jakupi

Post writing that article I felt healed and want to say I forgive Genc Jakupi. I too know what it feels like to betrayed by blood. Who I am now isn’t who I was then, I’ve found my voice to speak the truth. I was so busy protecting his bond with his brother I never expressed myself. Revisiting that time period reminded me of how almost everybody was out to get me and Genc protected me, he started making changes for the betterment for me.

Another facet to Albanian culture is the eldest son is king. His brother is older, he owes him everything. He set up a life for Genc when he left a war torn country. He then turned him against someone he loved deeply enough to attempt changes. I was written up once in my life and Genc fired her. Without all the other variables he actually took care of me, which is why I stayed. We did have true love at one point. We were also telepathic. Suddenly I regret nothing. It wouldn’t be fair to color him one way, it wasn’t all he was, not to me. His brother can rot in hell. Twice in my life have I felt a chill exude from a human being and he was one of them. Only me and Ariel saw his true evil soul. When I met Genc I didn’t even believe in love anymore. At all, I credit him for that, for opening my heart chakra.

His brother was Bart Bass. Period. Genc was becoming nicer due to love, his brother didn’t like that. Thank you Genc for choosing to evolve and protecting me. May you find peace. Unless I can punch Binn in the back of his head, the top left corner, I could never even be cordial with him. He made me miserable! Have you ever been betrayed by a sibling? Via: Black Book

Genc Jakupi, Naomi Campbell & Jordan Barrett (1/2)

Negative one hundred and seventy two dollars was the approximate “amount” in my bank account. A haunted apartment in West Harlem led me to a psychic gypsy in the East Village. Biblical warnings kept me away from those types, deemed demonic and unsavory, but I was desperate and scared. Ignoring the paranormal events taking place wasn’t working anymore. Hoping she’d shed some light on wtf I was, I went, my last resort. Psychic Shanna didn’t have a doorknob, you could see straight into her home. She feared no one for a reason. I didn’t know that then, but boy was I about to learn. Once I rendered her services no longer necessary, she placed an evil eye on me. I went from having my own apartment, a well paying job and an internship with artist Maxi Cohen, on the brink of becoming a full time gig, to couch surfing, losing everything down to my cat. The epitome of living on a prayer.

Getting a job became impossible. Thanks to her evil eye only scams came in, one I fell for which is how I ended up owing the bank. I needed money ASAP Rocky and escorting was not an option, I mean it was, but I’m not that type of girl. Serving was my only hope, a path I avoided for two reasons 1) the money was fast, consistent and addictive, I didn’t want to get comfortable 2) there are no margins of error, a simple mistake and someone could DIE; do you realize the weight of waiters? Hello allergies. Also between school and interning, back of house experience was all I had time for before. How hard could the transition be with Danny Meyer on my resume though?
Try super hard and not in the fun way. Without two years NYC serving experience I was met with constant rejection. Miss Lily’s, a tony Caribbean restaurant in Soho, was the only place that took a chance on me. Being hot was their main criteria, they’d teach me everything else.

By the skin of my teeth is how I finished training, there was so much turmoil occurring in my life I wasn’t focused (plus I called out to attend Kylie Jenner’s Galore Magazine party, priorities). Before my final training, the general manager, Krystyna, informed me this was my last shot. Out of my trainers six tables, I was given three to take as my own. Everything was riding on this. Truth be told no one believed I’d make it, just another pretty face on her way to getting cut. Couldn’t open a bottle of wine to save my life at the time, but Jaquana brought in the most tip money that night, by a landslide. We stood in a circle filling out the tip sheet, each of us announcing our earnings. I went last, when I spoke there was silence. Surpassing my trainer by nearly $200 on a slow night might I add, he stared daggers at me. Everyone was astounded. Turns out I had a knack for selling without selling, my specialty was getting people drunk. My liquor sales were unparalleled, I went from working dead nights like Sunday’s and Monday’s, to money nights Thursday, Friday, Saturday. A HUGE deal at Miss Lily’s, there was definitely a hierarchy and favoritism. Money nights weren’t given to just anybody, which left a lot of senior staff who campaigned for years to work those shifts fuming. Emptying pockets was my thing, bringing in the most tip became my niche everywhere I went.

Miss Lily’s was the Studio 54 of restaurants. Answers to questions I ruminated on for ages were answered there. Would Mick Jagger be into me? Would Anna Wintour disapprove of my attire, or person in general? Our regulars were celebrities, supermodel Chanel Iman always sat in my section. Musician Vic Mensa got so use to my service he’d try to pay me even if he ordered from someone else. Like the time he ordered take out from the bar. Mensa searched for then spotted me, sliding his credit card into my hand wordlessly. Confused.
“Why are you giving me this?”
“Ahhh, because you always do it…” he responded equally puzzled.
“Well who did you order with?” He points to the bartender. I instruct him to give her the card. Mensa walks over, looking back at me every other step, like a child being dropped off to pre-school for the first time. I nod giving him reassurance throughout the whole transaction, you’ve got this kid, I believe in you. And it is me he thanks on his way out.

Countless famous patrons poured in, nearly everyday and when Chef Andre won Chopped twice it got bigger. FKA Twigs planned a beautiful birthday for Robert Pattinson, I was their server. Getting hit on also wasn’t unusual for me. I became desensitized, this was the norm. The only time I broke down was when Fabolous came in, he was so swagged out. Nessa, my work wife had to take my table while I cried in the vestibule. Really, out of everyone Fab? My peers ridiculed. For the rest of the night I just looked at him from different areas of the restaurant. Fan girl-ing was a big NO NO, which is why my interactions with Solange, Kelly Rowland and Naomi Campbell were beyond awkward, especially Solange. Mortified was an understatement.

The first time I met Genc Jakupi I had no idea who he was. Wiping down tables in the front I smelled the most alluring scent, searching for the source I found him checking me out on his way upstairs. I thought he was just a neighbor, but the owners lived above the restaurant. Mistakenly I believed this lovely elderly couple, my first friends were the owners, Feride & Agron. They were actually his parents. I found out who he was the night of a blood moon eclipse. There we were patrons and employees alike craning our necks for this most celestial event, when a voice behind us ask “Is anybody working?” The look of fear in my co-workers eyes, pure terror as they scrambled to get back inside. Genc, who had presented himself as nothing short of polite in our small interactions notices I notice. “Relax, relax it was a joke. I was joking,” he adds. Taking one for the team I allow Nessa and Mo to stay outside while I manned the place. Genc didn’t scare me, he made me nervous, but I felt safe with him.

“You’re going to get fired,” Nessa pleaded with me to serve Genc’s table, but I refused! Yes he was in my section, but he was also pretending one of the aerialist from The Box was his girlfriend. He’d been in there with a different woman every time I’d seen him and this one was being super rude to me. He was trying to make me jealous, but all it did was anger me. Nessa, who had the entirety of the front had to come to service his table. He watched irately as I delighted tables with laughter and stellar service. If he fired me he’d never see me again, so he didn’t. Genc’s love for me gave me power (I thought he was my twin flame, he wasn’t). My bosses would be chewing me out, as SOON as he entered they did a 180. It became that he didn’t even need to be there, no one was allowed to disrespect me. Ever. Infuriating his brother, who was left in charge of watching me when Genc moved indefinitely to Europe. His brother watched me like a hawk day and night, night and day. He had it out for me since NYE, when I got wasted on the clock and went to sleep in the front of the packed restaurant. I should have been fired, I didn’t even get a write up. However I was punished. Chiwetel Ejiofor from 12 Years A Slave was one of my tables. They were heading to Future’s concert after party and I was invited. Didn’t get to go for obvious reasons.

Genc moved to Europe indefinitely pretty early in my employment at Miss Lily’s. We never had a conversation, a date, sex, anything, he was use to women throwing themselves at him. I wasn’t that type of woman. Psychic Shanna told me the man I marry takes initiative and ask me out. I keep meeting boys with different faces and this would be how I know I found a man. Genc wasn’t a man. All he did was stalk me and run off potential suitors. His brother ended up falling for me when I blacked out one night. That’s when everything took a turn. Via: Buzzfeed


Atlantis, Athena, Twin Flames

Okay so let me come clean about what’s going on here, even though I said it before. Long story short, the world is ending couldn’t you tell? The climate changes, natural disasters, COVID, The Trump administration (was going to end the world quicker than you could blink)…because we are reliving Atlantis. Atlantis sank when everyone lost there spirituality, valuing material wealth. It’s been building up for decades, centuries even, but the Kardashian Jenner West clan have accelerated us to a point of Armageddon. They have become the most influential family in the world, due to generations of satanism, Kekel Kardashian was real. All the people who aligned with them are in their coven. I even unfollowed them, because being connected to their energy is alignment.

The Kardashian’s single handedly deteriorated the arts, feminism, business ethics, stand by racism and cultural appropriation and have inspired hundreds of millions of people to value materialism by any means necessary: lie, cheat, steal, forge tax papers, sacrifice, low self-esteem, prostitution, social influencing and plastic surgery…the impact they’ve made to lower the standards and vibrations of the human race is extraordinary. Here’s where I come in. Despite being deemed the lowest caste of society, a black woman, that’s exactly why I am. People will always go where there is power, but will they do the right thing. The way I was treated while secretly dating Mick Jagger was a test of souls. Those who aligned with that family and the Hamrick’s (the biggest perpetrators of black magic) will be joining them in hell. When I say I have to balance the vibration, it’s because there is more evil than good energetically. I have to destroy them, because the demons are all here.

The Kardashian’s aren’t smart, or cool, they’re satanist who use television to glamour people into a following. That’s why they SCRAMBLED for a new deal, after saying they quit, because they make more money on social media. LIES. I’m extremely powerful, it’s fated. The biggest mistake the Illuminati made was allowing them in. The biggest mistake they made was fucking with me, that’s why I took your powers trash and The Met Gala won’t help you get them back, you know why? I have energetic plans for you guys that day.

Mick Jagger is my twin flame, that’s why our relationship is so tumultuous, because we are here to help humanity ascend. However if he doesn’t get his ego in check and shed programmed toxic masculine traits we’re doomed.

Next year is 2022, the code of love. That’s why all this shit is happening. Mick sabotaging Sara’s wedding, a loving sacred ceremony and treating me bad, due to his ego is causing karmic chaos! He booked a hotel room for this day, the passing of beloved Charlie Watts, let me go all the way to Poughkeepsie and used his star power to somehow remove his payment (even though it was days after the 72 hour cancellation). Genc Jakupi was horrible, because he was crazy. Mick is horrible because he’s afraid I’m going to leave him and needs to cure his insecurity.

When people do bad things to me it comes back to them by three. If Mick doesn’t come into union as a twin he’s going to continue to cause chaos energetically. That’s why I keep getting angry with the Jagger’s who keep doing things out of ego. When I get angry things happen, karma happens interacting with me good, or bad. The thing is we’re on a time crunch and this insignificant, now significant day proves it. The universe is making the consequences more dire, because this planet is on limited time. Join me so we can all survive AND LISTEN WHEN I SPEAK, black women save your asses everyday. Stop disrespecting us, research and DO. You have NO idea what I’ve gone through to keep your asses alive.Via: North East Tarot

Jordan Kale Barrett

You didn’t think Genc Jakupi with his basic ass, mediocre acting, and pipe dreams of the big screen was the star of this story? No, no, no, Jordan Kale Barrett is what catapulted me into the eyes of celebrities. He’s the reason they all took an interest in me, how could they not when he made me a whopping twenty of his instagram AND snapchat stories on the night of this picture? The honey haired prince, the embodiment of white entitlement, a blue eyed, blonde hair caucasian male supermodel, an Aryan dream.

Jordan and I first met in 2015 I believe. He was sitting across the street from Webster Hall, rolling out of his mind. I was walking down the street in search of my friend. Halfway down the block this beautiful, adrogynous, feline creature springs from a stoop, asking if I have a cigarette (or lighter). He was so awkward, complimenting me in a nervous manner about my looks. If he weren’t gorgeous he would be creepy. I didn’t find out who he was until I saw him on Hailey Bieber’s instagram post.

“That’s the boy from the stoop!” I shared the picture with my friend. I followed him immediately. We had a connection in our short interaction, made evident on the night he ran into me at Miss Lily’s in 2017.

I was off the clock and WASTED. I’d won the specials contest (as usual, selling the most fish) and was rewarded with said meal, alongside copious amounts of liquor. Now this was a perk of being protected by Genc. I pretty much did whatever the hell I wanted. This didn’t sit well with his jealous brother, or the other people who were use to Genc being ruthless. He was known to fire people for lesser offenses than anything I’d done, which included sleeping on the clock, at work, after getting drunk on New Year’s, did I mention the restaurant was packed? Had no idea how I got home, still made it to work the following brunch. Honestly, Genc getting his information from other people, never communicating with me directly, made him a monster towards me. In his Albanian culture women are viewed as property, his brother felt I didn’t know my place. His brother who robbed him of the truth, tried to hook up with me and is now married with a kid. While Genc remains anguished.
Jordan was coming to see if he could throw his Chrome Hearts sunglasses launch party at the restaurant. I spotted him as my friends and I drunkenly ran up and down the street.

“Jordan!”
“You work here?” he replied. As if no time had passed, like we’d known each other forever. Grabbing him by the waist we take several photos, deciding this was the best one. Never letting go we walk inside. We hang out for hours. This infuriates the Jakupi brother’s, who are watching from the cameras, while receiving text updates from Kendall the manager. EVERYBODY who saw us asked if we knew each other, such was the strength of our bond. Jordan asked for my number in a roundabout way. Feeling indebted to Genc, who I thought was my twin, who fired countless people on my behalf, I directed him to Kendall. He promised to come back the next day, declining to go to The Box, because he had a shoot the next morning.

He never came. Thank god too, Genc’s brother waited for him all day. What his intentions were I’ll never know. When Jordan didn’t show, his brother took his anger out on me. This is how I ended up suing and winning. Once they realized the nature of Jordan’s visit, they tried to email me to make amends, but I was over it (Olatz Schnabel posted Jordan’s photo so they could find out who he was). I’d been paper trailing them from the year prior when a line cook, a short Mexican man with a Napoleonic complex, believing himself white (until I reminded him they were building a wall to keep him out), called me a nigga and threw a plate at my head. He missed. The staff was blamed. Underestimated, no one bothered to look into my background. Assuming based on my short skirts, that I was like the other girls, only relevant due to a job there. Not very educated. Not connected. Needing them for some semblance of the fame they sought as artists. Products of systemic racism. Bitch I been going to events. By the time they realized who I was it was too late. Genc started spreading lies about me from that day on, forcing me to make my social media public to tell the truth.

Jordan Barrett freed me, which came with a lot of hate. Like Genc, Jordan is a womanizer and all the women who fawned over him hated me. Kaia Gerber, who got his named tatted on her arm (which Cindy Crawford covered by saying it was for Michael Jordan, stop coddling your kids, that’s why they aren’t extraordinary like their legendary parents), Lila Moss cute, but that cherubic face is no sculpted Kate Moss, Caroline Vreeland, who covered the song Wicked Games (a song Jordan wrongfully attributes to me ), then removed it from her social media, Fanny something, Bella Hadid’s best friend, another victim who was enraged by his love for me, the list is endless. Women, who are really girls, preaching feminism, stalking me just to tear me down, over a boy who ain’t your boyfriend boo. No wonder he’s bored, you guys behaved like the women in the ads of the 50’s and 60’s, objects to be used and disposed of. What else did you expect then? Your mothers should have raised you better. To value yourself outside the male gaze, rather than support your embarrassing behavior, riddled with lack of: self-love, purpose, compassion, or intellect.

Use Your Words

Me curb stomping you hoes with my exposé.
Now again, Ed Westwick and his girlfriend racially profiled me (people joined in). Then the Kardashian Jenner West family racially profiled, stalked and did a ton of horrible things to me, because of Stephanie Shephard, the celebrisite (a parasitic person who makes money off their celebrity affiliations, not the quality of their work). The reason Stephanie did it is completely embarrassing for Larry Jackson, her second place consolation prize. Herself as well, she looks an entire fool. Everyone thank her for starting your downfalls and descents into hell, good work sis. Stephanie started this over a boy, despite Larry being successful Stephanie wanted the fame from a Marvel movie star. How does it feel for your lover to start a war and it’s not over you? We’ll have to ask Larry, I wouldn’t know, but he do.

Now during this time I began a relationship with Mick Jagger (my Micheal, my twin flame that I ran away from in 2016 when we met at Miss Lily’s), after writing happy birthday on his wall in 2020 and kept it secret. I wanted to see Hollywood’s finest true colors, are you really about black lives matters? And what I found was satanism/black magic and the reality of the illuminati. What they didn’t count on is being exposed, because Melanie Hamrick another black magic user, can’t stop being a desperate liar to save her life. So people believed her made up stories, despite Mick never posting her. Now his kids happen to be friends with a bunch of evil people, which I called out, as they partook in profiling me. Angry, Mick’s children endangered themselves in an effort to spite us (by not respecting his choices, even though that bubble they live in is courtesy of his legacy, and that he did not want Melanie, who voodooed him in his life), only for me to be right…again. Living in a homogenous bubble with limited experiences, can leave people naive and unable to read the nature of one’s intention and character, even when it’s right in front of your face, butt ass naked, screaming what they are.
It also didn’t help when Naomi Campbell lied to everyone pretending she knows me. When the truth is she was doing work for Genc Jakupi, a womanzier who became obsessed with me. This is why eyes were on me in the first place. Genc was my former boss at a well known celebrity hotspot and the definition of toxic masculinity.

Just a quick outline of events.

And I didn’t even leave New York City, because an interesting life comes from interesting people, not what you’re doing. And believing someone blindly, without doing research is dangerous and shows a level of stupidity that can get you killed. But why were they so quick to believe in the worst of me? For many reasons, but mainly because I am a black woman and they treated me as such. The lesser gender, the lesser race. Too bad those are all lies and I’m more powerful than you all combined, as you can see. And now I’m going to teach people their place. Karma always wins, so do I. As for those watching, how good at you at assessing intentions and character? Do you question everything, like a critical thinker, or do you follow the herd like a sheep? Artist: Gabbois

A Taste Of Part One

Where the story begins. I worked at Miss Lily’s in 2015 and Genc Jakupi is one of the owners. As a private person I was forced to make my social media public, because he was spreading lies about me. I never dated this man. I never spoke to this man beyond a few sentences. Yet he’s stalked me up until March of this year: breaking into my social media accounts, getting his friends and family to lie, breaking into my email, setting me up in an apartment to be watched, sending people to my work place, including Vashtie and preventing me from getting jobs amongst other things.

In 2016 I met Michael there, we made eye contact and I ran away, the runner in our twin flame connection. I never felt anything like that before. It scared me. And yet after complaining about Genc for years no one did anything to stop him, except for Mick. After a solid five years of him using his millions to stalk me, then my friend, causing ptsd. I am grateful Mick put up with all of my distress and finally got this psycho to leave me alone. This is just a teaser, a taste of part one, which will include Naomi Campbell and Jordan Barrett. As the story builds more and more celebrities get involved. Are you ready for one of the craziest stories in Hollywood and of your life? Via: Black Book Mag


Shine Bright This Weekend

My writing piece is taking wayyyyy longer than I thought, but at least I’m doing it. Heavy was the cloud hanging over my head until confronting a psychological abuser, who spent half a decade stalking me and let’s not forget the people who aided in this, especially the women. That’s not what I’m writing about now, but it was worth sharing. Why? Because I realized I have PTSD due to a psychopath and now I’m free, but will probably need therapy. What makes me feel guilty is the friends who were subjected to it, to Genc Jakupi, an abuser. I hope everybody shines this weekend. When do you shine your brightest?

A Brief History Of Us: Genc Jakupi

Genc Jakupi always looked out for me, which made the target on my back bigger when he was away. A playboy, or a womanizer, the semantics are up to you. He’s had his fair share of staff members, models, socialites, actresses…So when he treated me special, green-eyed monsters awakened en mass. Women would flock to the restaurant to see me, the girl that suddenly gave him a heart. This was a man who was feared, admired and had a new lady on his arm every single night. Charismatic, intelligent and fun, they literally threw themselves at him. Young, rich and handsome with a full head of hair, it was a no brainer for ovaries.

Eyes locked. “Do not have sex with that hot neighbor.” I told myself, having no idea he was an owner. I found him sitting in one of the booths before open the next day, I had half a mind to tell him service didn’t start until six. For some reason I bowed as a hello, then left him to stare out the window broodingly as it was in his nature to do. Always donning that long black peacoat like Christian Slater in The Heathers.

Valentine’s Day at The Box, he asked me if I was going. I said no. A rule of thumb, don’t eat where you shit, is one I take to heart. Roommates, coworkers, bosses and clients are a big hell no. It gets too convoluted. I try to avoid drama as much as possible, even though my life is a soap opera continuum, says Melinda. The irony. For some reason I trusted him, which was unnerving. How could you trust someone you just met? Everything about him freaked me out, my physical reaction to his physical presence roamed untamed. Butterflies flew from unknown fields in my stomach, as though frightened to flight. My heart bashed my ribcage trying to abandon my chest. Somewhere along the way I believed him to be my twin flame, I sought out the equal and opposite piece of my soul desperately.

Everyone else had, let’s say a different view of him. When he entered a room terror permeated. No one wanted to get on his bad side, a side I’d never seen. He was revered and feared. Apparently the leader of the you’re fired squad. People who would be complete assholes to me would do a 180. Treating me like the queen of fucking everything. I felt safe when he was around.

His parents were my first friends at a hostile work environment (I didn’t know they were his parents then). Agron humored me when I talked to him about karmic cycles, planetary alignment and retrogrades. Turns out he didn’t know a lick of english beyond the basics. We developed our own understanding, able to communicate our way. Those are the most beautiful types of languages. Returning from trips I would hug him, he was missed. Feride his gorgeous, over protective mother was my favorite. She was out for a good time. When I appeared topless in a red sheath on New Year’s Eve, she gasped “You look beautiful.” I was so relieved, my own mother would admonish me for this dress even when wearing a bra. That night I stopped working and danced the night away with her. I should have been fired when I went to sleep in the front booth, but I wasn’t because of Genc.

Jordan Barrett made me feel so disloyal. I wanted to be around him all the time, usually guys try to tame me, but Jordan would let me run wild. I dreamed of him, craved him, he was infectious. How could I turn my back on someone who defended me on numerous occasions? Who took care of me in their own way? I was the only employee to receive paid vacation. But at this point Genc moved to Europe, he wasn’t there, what was I waiting for? We never had a conversation, I never knew what he was up to. Still I waited, hoping not in vain.

There was only one member of his family that irked my soul. No matter how many olive branches I extended, attending his birthdays, trying to be nice to him, he snapped the twigs. Despite popular belief Taurus and Pisces in my experience (from my sister on) have a horrible dynamic. We just don’t mesh. Making it messier was when I blacked out and led him on. Genc was dating Romanian actress Madalina Ghenea, one of the women who came to see me. His brother was wearing his shirt, a long sleeved blue with white polka dots thermal type top. One I always affiliate with Genc from photos. In a drunken stupor Lupe the busser told me I was with his brother and tried to make out with the blonde lady, who turned out to be Dua Lipa’s mother. Ashamed I swore off the bottle for thirty days.

It all ended in a cataclysmic, inevitable shit show. After I left with my karmic justice. He started to keep an eye on me in ways that were invasive. At first I excused his behavior, this was a man who walked over dead bodies in a war torn country, but soon it got dark. The methods in which he kept tabs were toxic and took a toll on my mental well being. So finally after a breakdown I confronted him, calling him out, in hopes that he would realize this isn’t the old country, I am not your property. I’m also not going to throw myself at anyone, women need to remember they should be coming to you. This world has been constructed in favor of the patriarchy, putting women down as inferior, conditioning us to hate ourselves and each other. That’s not my vibe, which infuriates powerful men.

Without Genc I wouldn’t love myself, so I don’t want to paint it one way. This was one of the most crucial relationships of my life. I started taking care of myself, he made life worth living. Still when the milk spoils you have to throw it out (https://sainttwenty.com/2019/08/15/learn-to-let-go/). Via: Guns X Bibles Mag