Everything I Ever Needed To Learn About Life I Learned On Facebook

Ok, I dont even know where to start so I will just list things.

The 7 that welcomed me onto facebook was known to me as Wayne, bt he got knowledge of self and was reborn as Rahborn. He made me feel so welcome. And he told me that he’d fucked Allison and they used to swing something whenever he came up to NY making runs. Then I was talking to this Israelite who is of course wacky (prerequisite to being a HI) and Aq, who used to try and talk to me when we were in HS and was mad cool. Now he’s a family man and cool as hell, laid back and happy.

Then my friend Ruby tapped into the highest plane of metta. She manifested the Green Tara on me. Ruby is my Cap sister for real and she has the Gifts of the Spirit thing. That was the support that I never expected that the Universe promised me.

Then I wrote how much I loved Dr. Bronners soap and how if anybody wanted to give me a gift they should give me some. Guess what my kids father gave  me yesterday?

Then today, the One, that I was asking for when I first started my blog…Yeah, I met Him.

I’m going to come back and update this post (OF COURSE) cause this is my life now bt I just had to thank the Universe.



My friend Ruby told me today about gaslighting.

I am going to make this real quick just a heads up to let the Universe know I’m still alive.

I feel so bad and everything is in the toilet right now.

I don’t know what to do to stop feeling this way or to fix my fucked up life.

A Report Card or…My Brother Comes to Visit

I feel so embarrassed I just want to hide my face.

Yesterday my brother came over here and gave me a talking to about wilding the fuck out on Saturday.Uggghhh. I am so embarrassed I just want to pull some covers over my head. He told me how police could’ve shot me if they’d seen me with that knife, all I did was make myself block fodder, I wilded out in front of billions (the block is billions).  Then he told me I have to speed up the process of getting back to Mecca, now. Directly, ASAP as in don’t leave the house again or show my face before I do. He told me I have to go on a personal hajj and to worry about saving myself before I try to save anybody else.

My kids father always makes me feel dumb in general but right now I feel like a jerk. I feel like hiding my face from him. He is pissed off, big time. I hate fucking up. Hate it.

Kiss From The Universe

Alot has happened in a few days. Two days ago, this crackhead lizard looking crackhead that lives down the block came on the porch acting wild. Today my kids father was fighting him and his gang of teenagers came running up the block and I went and got a knife. I didn’t know all day why I did it, it was impulsive and reactionary. I thought they was running up trying to jump him.

I was thinking about it all day like what if by doing that and NOT letting Mike get beat up (because everybody started focusing on me with the knife, I fucked up a  chance to resolve that shit for once and for all. Ive been thinking about that in an endles loop all day. Then I read this:

It’s strange how often, in our struggle to do the right thing, we end up doing the wrong thing. We wrestle with moral dilemmas till we feel sure we have considered issues from all angles. Then, after time has passed, we see it all from one more crucial perspective and feel slightly foolish. Even the powerful Transit of Venus hasn’t been miraculous enough to ensure that you never go through that again. It will though, eventually allow you to put the other side of that coin to tremendously valuable use. Every so often in life, due to various pressures or apparent problems, we do what we think is the wrong thing, only to discover that it has turned out to be absolutely right in more ways than we could have ever dreamed. A recent apparent ‘mistake’ has effectively been an action of sheer genius. When you realise this, don’t just count yourself lucky. Count yourself entitled to relax.
Then start taking life a little easier and a little less seriously. For there’s a lot of love, a lot of reassurance, a lot of support and a lot of prosperity on its way to you now. And to help it all make its way into your world, all you have to do is be a lot less rigid, responsible and ‘grown up’ and a lot more mischievous, impulsive and childlike!

We’ll see…

What is a Kiss From the Universe?:

A Kiss from the Universe
Wednesday, October 28, 2009 at 4:41am

Biggin’ Up My AstroTwins: Sade Adu and Super Mario 357

Last week,  I met myself and I was a dude.

There’s this dude (whose uncle lives in the basement) whom I’ve known in passing for a while now. The first thing about him is he has shoulders like a Frigidaire and a build like a defensive lineman. Son is like 6’4, 250 and his fingers are mad thick and long like hotdogs. He radiates diesel. This young girl across the street liked him so we’d introduced them, telling her what to do to build a relationship with him because in addition to the Bod, he’s also a good catch. Nice energy, nice ways, nice job and a nice personality. If she had played her cards right, she could’ve had a nice little something.

But instead she got on some hot and horny shit and fucked him. And him being a Capricorn, that was that. I knew for a while, from casual conversation he was a Capricorn but it wasn’t until I talked to him last Monday that I found out his whole DOB and did his chart.

He  is (damn near) my AstroTwin.  Sun in Capricorn, Moon in Aries, Venus in Aquarius. That was crazy to me! I was like Oh shit, no wonder.  He just came out of a nine year long relationship with a girl who got the axe for being ungrateful. Check. When they were together, he just wanted it to grow and develop. Check. He’s lonely and he misses her but neither one of them are changing so its not a go. Check. He said, the next chick that bags me has to understand I do the things I do to make you smile, not to spoil you. Check. The most attractive thing about him is he looks good and he knows it but he is not led around by his dick. He never cheated on homegirl. (You lost big sistren. Verrry verrry big…Good luck finding a next man to buy you red bottom shoes and bring his ass home every night, lol.  Really tho…)

I feel mad love for him like I wish this dude the very best of everything in life…love, peace and happiness.

Onward and upward, somehow, I happened upon Sade’s astrochart.

I, like everybody else, love Sade. Not just her music but her whole vibe. My favorite song of hers is Maureen, about her homegirl from back in the days.

I also love Let’s Not Play The Game. (which now that I try to post the video, I don’t think was ever her single, like maybe she did a remix…cause I downloaded it off Limewire but the only artist that comes up on youtube is Maxwell.)

This chic is so together, so awesome and cool and laid back. On style alone, she’s all of that, real talk. And I don’t even say “real talk”… or “all of that”.  And like everybody else, I don’t know ANYTHING about her. I didn’t know if she’s younger or older than me, who her man is, if she has kids, nothing. Until I saw her chart and I had to find out….  (or better yet confirm, because once I saw the similarities I  knew the answers at once…None of my fucking business!!!).

She’s my astrotwin, for real for real: Sun in Capricorn, Moon in Aries, Mercury in Capricorn, Venus in Aquarius and Mars in Taurus!!!

Not only is Sade great, stylish and iconic, she is one of the best people who ever lived. She has to be and I found an interview with her and dead serious, we are just alike so she must be:

Sade is so very private, so extremely wary of the press that her friends – all of whom are bound to silence – have nicknamed her Howie, after Howard Hughes. The most reclusive British singer of the 1980s has kept such a low profile since her Smooth Operator days – one tour in 14 years – that, when we meet at the London office of her record label to hear the songs from her new album, Soldier of Love, I am the only person in the room who has met her before.

That is more telling about the accuracy of Greecian based astrology— which would have you believe that as a meanie-ass, workaholic Capricorn she’d live in the workplace or in her case, record label — than anything else but anyway…

She is the most successful solo female artist Britain has ever produced: she has sold more than 50m albums in a career that stretches back 27 years. And more than half of those albums were sold from the mid-1990s onwards, when Sade all but disappeared from view. Since then, she has only surfaced a few times — and this is the only face-to-face interview she will consent to now.

Paradoxically, in person she is open, friendly and relaxed – she’s happy to let me into her spacious Georgian house in leafy north London – and willing to laugh at herself.

A home she loves and hates to leave and I’m sure was her pet and her project and her baby. I assure you, this home is solid brick or stone, huge but comfy and luxurious and worn. He house is addictive and sleepy and cozy.

She has never lived down the image of her sashaying around in a designer frock singing Smooth Operator. But like so much of the little that is known – or believed – about Sade Adu, that’s not right… In her mind Sade is, and always has been, a country girl at heart.

Sade is keen on “loyalty to the point of clannishness”, according to one longtime friend.

Their earnings from recording and live work have always been an even four-way split. There have been arguments over the years – “because my naffometer is much more sensitive than theirs”, she claims – but no break-ups or new members.

“I always said that if I could just find a guy who could chop wood and had a nice smile it didn’t bother me if he was an aristocrat or a thug as long as he was a good guy.”

I feel like I’ve won the lottery, finally.

“I’m not someone who needs a lot of money. You could break into this house and leave after half an hour without finding anything worth stealing,” says Sade, and it’s hard to disagree. The first-floor drawing room of her London house is a large but sparsely furnished space with a couple of white fabric-covered sofas, a polished-wood floor and nothing much on the walls. For the past hour we’ve been sitting on a red rug in front of a one-bar electric fire that must be about as old as she is. She has several of these obsolete burners, she says. “They’re my favourite.”

Frugality – another traditional country habit – is her style, but she’s generous with it. As soon as the royalties rocked up, she helped her mother buy a house in Clacton, bought her brother Banji a place in the States, and supported various unnamed friends in “business ventures”. Her touring musicians comment on how fair she has been in awarding valuable songwriting credits for their contributions — a rare thing in the tightfisted world of pop accountancy.

She has done this on the strict understanding that none of the beneficiaries talk about it, “or ever write anything about me”, which they haven’t. It’s not just a personal-privacy thing, or control freakery, she claims, “I just don’t like the power relationship it implies”.

“I always wanted to have money.  But the great thing is when you’ve got it, your life doesn’t revolve around money any more.”

Please let that be true. And let me find out for myself very, very, very soon Universe ; ))).

Outside on the drive is her boxy old Volvo estate, which she traded for her vintage BMW

My two favorite cars!!! My last car was a Volvo 940 and my next car is a BMW 750 or 760 or old school 740. What a coincidence!

With her sensible country head on, she realises how fortunate she is. She has sorted out her home life, earned all the money she will ever need, and continues to make music in her own time and in her own way. “Is it still worth it? I think it is. After every album, I think, ‘Right that’s it, no more.’ But how lucky am I at my age still to be doing this without any outside pressure?”

This is the point I want to reach in my own life. I want to feel like this, too. I am so happy that me and Sade are astro-twins!!!

The Little Things

Since last night, I have been crying and crying. You can’t even imagine how weak and stupid and dumb and pathetic and simple I feel that I am once again crying over Baby Daddy shit.

Two or three weeks ago, my kids father came home and stayed the week. We had fun, shit felt like old times and just good, like I started getting caught up in the pipe dreams, feeling like things were going back to how they were. Then he left on a Friday and didn’t come home that night, the next night and then around 1am that Saturday turning to Sunday, text me that he was going to a studio. Since then, I have just shut down and retreated from that motherfuckr because THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANT.

I am not going to make it easy for a motherfuckr to do what he’s trying to do. He wants everything to be good here, like he can come thru, eat, fuck, play games and then go do him, feeling good inside because he’s got the home shit under control and he can be the man in the streets. I’m not going to help nobody play me because I never wanted a motherfucker coming thru, fucking me and taking my shit and going to do him. I never wanted to be nobody’s baby mama.

I wish it was a way out of this. I just want this to be OVER so bad. I wish all of this away, for something to happen where this whole situation is GONE. I hate the way I’m feeling right now. I’m lonely, I don’t have help with my kids and I don’t know where this is headed, where I am going to end up or what is going to happen.

I keep feeling that he has some woman pregnant too. I wish that bitch a living hell. I wish her misery, heartache, poverty, sadness, death and sorrow. I hope he turns her life into a giant piece of shit and when her baby isn’t a carbon copy of him, I hope he treats her kid the same way he treats my oldest son. I wish that bitch an ocean of tears and never ending drama, confusion and betrayal. Neverending, till the day she dies. And if she ever tries to bring that baby around, I’m ragging her fucking ass on sight. If I’m not there when he does it, my big daughter better handle it for me like I would for her.

I tried to say, I’m doing this so my kids can have their father in their life but goddamn. This dude keeps saying funky shit to my kids, he treats them like an afterthought, he doesnt help, he’s too distracted to guide them, listen when they’re talking or even realize nobody wants to hear about how good he can fight and nobody can beat him ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Nonstop. He’s determined to do dumb shit now so later he can be like “I didn’t know, I was going thru this at that time and thats why things came out all fucked up but you know I’m a great guy.” like then everyone will be like awww, our daddy so crazy.

My kids have as high a standard for other people as they do  for themselves. Nobody is trying to hear that shit. One day he’s going to get a real rude awakening and as soon as I see it coming, I’m going to leave the room.

For myself, I’m getting some pills to numb all this. I can’t handle the heartbreak of such a long relationship ending. Its like when I came here and never saw my grandaunt again and I never saw my people again. My fantasy is that one day this nigga  slips up and confirms my suspicion that he’s a body double for my husband, who was really thrown into Guantanamo by  the forces of evil in 2004 when I didn’t hear from him from April 22nd to June 2nd. Thats when they got him, threw a garbage bag over his head and disappeared him.  He’s fighting for his life, staying strong, not breaking under any torture, wondering everyday what we think happened to him, not knowing they sent Zero here in his place.  My fantasy is that one day Zero slips up and I catch him out there. I wouldn’t even ask no questions after that. I would knife that motherfucker down. There’d be some white pawr! jumping off in here cause I would hack him down into the basement. I would stab his ass till I couldn’t move my hand or broke one of the crossbeams in the ceiling and we went crashing down into the basement. And even then somebody would have to get me off him.

I can’t deal with the failure of my family. To hold shit together, I have to raise my kids by myself, do everything and act friendly with this nigga while he does him, and I can’t do it. I still have my vision for us. The family compound, businesses and all my grandkids and greatgrankids and great great grandkids.  I dream of there one day being so many of us that as I look out over them, I see the Tree of Life.

I picture my heart  glowing like the sun when I look into all the new faces and their old eyes. Thats for us. I don’t see anything for him because I can’t see anything changing or ever trusting him again or any peace. I don’t want to envision being 80 years old with a broken heart. I don’t want this confusion in my life AT ALL, now, let alone in the prime of my life. I just want this to be over. I don’t even tell him when the kids fuck up or do dumb shit because I don’t want him to throw it back in our faces. Him having the keys to our house is like the cops being able to come in here at any time.

I can’t deal with how powerless I feel. I feel like I am just powerless against all the shit in my life I hate.