“They always know,’ says Luc. ‘They just don’t want to accept the cost. The soul is the easiest thing to trade. It’s the time no one considers.”
Via: Karla Welch Stylist
Via: Karla Welch Stylist
Paranormal lessons come full circle, in my experience. It’s divined.
It was an average Friday; we all separated into smaller groups, or pairs to drop off our belongings at home, before getting wasted for the weekend. Sara and Paula went off together to Sara’s. Paula had a free house as always, that’s where the entire crew was headed. Jenna and I were the first to meet them. Halfway up the block I noticed their ashen faces, expressions filled with fear and disbelief. The vibe was eerie. We stopped our mindless chatter.
“What’s wrong? Why do you guys look like that?” I’d never seen them so visibly shook. My inquisition was met with silence.
“Seriously what’s going on? You’re acting strange,” Jenna pushed.
“If we told you guys, you wouldn’t believe us,” Sara replied teary eyed.
“…What? Are you guys joking? Just tell us,” perplexed, I was perplexed. What could they possibly say to blow our minds?
“We’ll tell you once and then I never want to talk about it again,” Sara said. “We were in the elevator and her phone starts to ring…” she stops and Paula finishes.
“It was my dad so I didn’t pick up, because his numbers been disconnected,” she inhales her cigarette. Exhales. “He left a voicemail.”
“Wait, what?!” Jenna and I said in unison, it must have been.
“I swear to God, it was staticky and said ‘Paula, it’s dad I love you.”
We all stare at each other.
“You’re lying,” I accuse her is disbelief.
“She’s not,” Sara confirms “It was on speaker, I heard it.”
Paula’s dad died when we were in tenth grade, he shot himself in the head. She was devastated, we were devastated for her. His phone was disconnected shortly after, him calling was impossible, he left a voicemail, she played it twice then deleted it. People can call from the grave? I didn’t understand, but Sara’s not a liar. Blunt, bitchy, but never a liar. We were silent until others pulled up to break the tension. An unspoken agreement, we keep it to ourselves. Cut to…
Over a decade later I’m watching Celebrity Ghost Stories. This black actor is on. I cannot for the life of me remember who, but the story is unforgettable. He goes home to the hood between shooting, while there he stays with his mom and grandmother. Every time a certain childhood friend comes around to see him, they go out of their way to turn him away. Finally he catches his grandmother doing so while descending the stairs, he’s midway when she closes the door. Now this friend was from the streets, gang banging and what not, the actor lucked out finding a different path. Days later his mom tells him the boys been shot. Turns out his matriarchs kept him away, because they saw death around his eyes and knew his time was up.
Shortly after that the actor receives a call, he picks up, it’s his deceased friend.
“Help me, help me, you gotta get me out of here,” his dead friend says.
The actor hears a deep voice amongst the noise, scream “Get back here.” His friend screams no, noooooooo and the phone hangs up. He was calling from hell. Now I’m teary eyed, you can get calls from the dead…Paula’s dad. It all came full circle, the universe designing both experiences for me to experience.
Hell is real. Those aligned with the Kardashian Jenner West coven and Melanie Hamrick, that’s your final destination. I was never joking. You are a soul. When you look into a coffin at a loved ones lifeless body, you always think it’s not them, because the body is a vehicle for your soul. Suddenly it’s a useless inanimate object, a stranger.
You’re going to hell, because it was your choice. I told you what to do to a tee, it was your freewill (a sacred right Melanie doesn’t understand). You cut your life short, you chose eternal damnation. All the evidence was in your face, everything provided for you. How many times did I say the devils come to collect? OWN IT. This world doesn’t need you incarnating again to lower the vibration of humanity.
I’ve seen a demon, at my grandmother’s house during witching hour, waking up my sister and cousin. They saw it too.
It looked like this: short, red eyes, a smile so wide it went off it’s face. The darkest thing I’ve ever seen, with a hat and arms longer than it’s body, curling up, swinging back and forth, never touching the floor. I’ll never forget it. Where do demons come from?…Duh. Was it worth it? Play with me if you want,
Monday Wednesday I’ll tell you how a lesson on homeless people went 360 as well. Via: Monsters Amongst Us Podcast & Unworn
When I saw a demon (he wasn’t shadow person, his body wasn’t human form): https://sainttwenty.com/2020/02/26/born-a-seer/
Celebrity Ghost Stories (found it!): https://www.scaryforkids.com/mykelti-williamson/
Since I’ve revoked the Kardashian Jenner West covens power, after they mistakenly believed they could take mine, they’ve been dressed as the demonic. Openly too. Kim, Kylie and Kanye do it, because it’s their last resort to collecting people’s energy to use as their own. That’s why Kylie was a snake (Satan in the garden of Eden) on Halloween and these two were just demons. Kim and Kanye made demonic appearances again at The Met Gala. Notice people with no talent: Melanie Hamrick, the Kardashian Jenner’s, summon black magic, cause they don’t got it sis. Also notice it’s the richest of the KJW lot who do it.
Kanye West needed a smash, since Drake smashed his wife. Donda was successful, because he used negative energy of the people he took off the album to make it so. Soulja Boy gave him SOO much of his. The demonic, evil spirits and shadow people feed off of negativity, this the reason they do the dumb shit. When I was low vibrational I saw shadow people jutting out the corner of my eye all the time. I also attracted a lot of homeless people, throwing pennies at me, spitting on my pants…I’ll explain this in a post dedicated to Candace, Sara Tam’s niece, later. Kanye also makes fun of the church by pretending to praise God, another demonic sign. When demons attack they leave three scratches, to make fun of the Holy Trinity, this is what his Sunday Services are. Yesterday’s Kanye isn’t today’s Kanye, he hates black people and I think he’s jealous Drake light skin. Now you know negativity, remember homeless people. Via: Planet KKW
“You’re that conspiracy theorist that nobody believes, but you’re always right.”-Rakim
Demons, ghosts, the soul within your flesh chamber, you name it I see it, or have seen it.
As I grow older all these ancient proverbs ring truer than true. The eyes really are the windows to the soul. At first it started off as clairsentience, the ability to feel clearly. Energies, other peoples emotions, beguiling objects; walking down the street I could look at the 15th floor of a building and know it was haunted. That whatever resided in there was looking down at me, sensing my acknowledgment. Male, female, century, attire, all things I could pick up. I’d never seen anything when I was younger, with the exception of my grandmother’s house at nine.
Red numbers beamed from the small radio alarm clock, alerting me that it was precisely 2:38am. How bizarre, I never wake up from deep sleeps, was my first thought. The air was stiff and eerie, all the lights out, creating different hues of darkness, the only way objects stood out in the landscape. Separating our room from the living room, where my grandmother slept on her pull out couch, leaving the bedroom to us, were these wooden venetian doors. They were kept open so the industrial fan could rotate air between us. There it was. At first I thought I was seeing things. But this figure was shorter than the fan and it’s eyes beamed red like the clock. He was wearing a hat, with a shirt the shape of a Hawaiian button down, it had shorts on and a grin that was somehow contained and exceeded the oval shape of his face. But it was the arms. Longer than it’s body, the arms curled up behind him swinging back and forth, never touching the floor. This being was not human. Scared to death I nudge my sister Whitney and cousin Breon silently awake, was the apparition real? None of us said a word, but we all saw it, we stared at it as it stared at us grinning insidiously. We were entranced for a good ten minutes. Afraid it would come closer, we wrapped the blankets over our heads, leaving only space for our noses to peek out. I found out that this demon was called the Short Man, often accompanied by the Tall Man. Shadow people. Years later my sister described them both, as she saw the Tall man too that night.
Twenty five was a turning point, my abilities magnified and I couldn’t control them. I started to see things, I mean really, really see them. I was terrified living in a haunted apartment in west Harlem, 3am on the dot and the whole place would come alive. I found myself unable to move with an animal growling in my ear, I’ve waken up with three doctor like figures looking down at me as if they were operating, I’ve heard my name called down the hallway. One day I told my roommates and they’d experienced some of the same things too. However no one saw anything like me. This is why I went to the psychic to know what I was. My estranged father is Haitian and openly practices voodoo. These capabilities are in my blood. The psychic taught me how to meditate, creating a barrier between myself and unwanted entities.
It bogles my mind, the humans myopic minded enough to believe we’re the only beings inhabiting this universe. Animals can pick up ranges of sensory information unbeknownst to us, a dog whistles frequency exceeds our scope. A born seer, I never had a choice, this gift to see souls, to pass spirits along to the other side (which I’ve done for friends and those who come to me), premonitions…it was passed down to me. So when I warn others about someone’s true intentions, or a nefarious being I only need say it once. I have a proven record. Heed my advice, or learn the hard way, either way it comes to pass. Photo: Elle Gramm