There is an old adage No Good Deed Goes Unpunished.
I think the phrase is born out of the many concepts of karma.
Good deeds = Good Karma. Bad deeds = Bad Karma.
But intent matters almost more.
A good deed done for personal gain, a bad deed done to expose a bad person… subjective morals. We always come round back to that. Free Will is something isn’t it.
I have looked into many religions, read many a religious text, over my life time. I do not belong to any one religion. Never have. I am god. Little g. I get that from a lines in most religions, we are one. One with each other. One with the universe.
ONE.
Belong. Interesting word for me. I don’t want to be possessed, but ultimately I suppose that is the deal in relationships isn’t it. You allow another to possess you.
Psychic B
As a child, my parents divorced, and I started Grade 1 in a new place, a new home, with just my brother and I – and my mom. We became known as LatchKey Kids of the 80s. My older cousins baby sat us after school. The house was green outside, with green shaggy carpet, and wood panels on the living room walls. Eventually covered with bowling trophies. Football trophies. Everything covered in cigarette dust.
At about age 10, I began having vivid dreams that seemed real.
I would psychically see, feel or sense, events that I wasn’t part of, or events that were about to happen. This was the first time, that I travelled the black lit tunnel, thru the stars, to a doorway, with light shining thru a keyhole. I used to freak people out by telling them events that would then happen. Or knowing events that had just happened to them that I had no way to know.
Our house was ‘haunted’. Mom and I attended psychic fairs in my teen years. We did aura photos.
My senior high school English teacher ran into us at a Psychic Fair and she connected my mom to a group of people, that were essentially Ghost Busters, that came to the house to attempt to cleanse it. I was probably 17 at the time. Fernando was my boyfriend at that time, that’s us at Halloween.
I sat on the living room floor, with my cat, smoking a cigarette. With this big thick glass ashtray with me. These Ghost Buster ladies wandered the house burning what was most likely Sage, and they started in the basement, where we most strongly sensed the feelings of something other. When they came into the living room, I felt instantly uncomfortable. I could tell, they felt uncomfortable. They walked over to me and burned the sage around my head and my area, for what seemed like a few too many minutes.
What Goes Around Comes Around
Another wonderful proverb, meaning, “the consequences of your actions will have to be dealt with eventually.” No escape. I am confessing I am a terrible person.
I know all the things I have done that are morally subjective, but to most are bad. I know. I know who I am. Rarely do I make apologies for my near filter-less words or my entirely selfish actions. And I know I hurt people.
I am striving to be better, but I will always live life on my terms. I make no bones about that.
It is why in 2009 – I swore to be Single For Life. I haven’t lived with anyone, since November 2008. (My child excluded.) I don’t do “romantic” relationships, and the couple attempts I have made since 2008, have failed fabulously because of me. Par for my course.
I sabotage my success.
But Fernando – he wrecked me. He broke my heart. Well – he was the first.
Ghosts in the Machine
We never did cleanse the old house of the ghosts back when I was 17. The Ghost Buster ladies stated the source was attached to the ground. So we lived with it.
Folks thought we were nuts.
Some other folks had experiences in the house that left them shook.
Fernando didn’t believe in this mumbo jumbo woo woo stuff.
So that night, after the Ghost Busters left, he was over, and we were sitting in the same spot, middle of the green shaggy carpet floor, with that inch thick glass ashtray, smoking cigarettes, as he tells me, the young woman he claimed to love, that I am crazy to believe ghosts. When the ashtray suddenly, spontaneously shattered into pieces.
From then on supernatural things continued to happen to him when he was in the house.
Was it the house, or was it me?
Fernando was 4 years older than me. Yes, I was 16 and he was 20 when we met.
Little did I know, during the next years of our relationship, him and his 3 friends were out all the time playing their pick-up artist game. They called themselves The 4 Horsemen, and competed to see how many women’s numbers, how many kisses, how many one night… well, you get the point. Believe me they certainly are NOT conquest, war, famine, and death.
Though I do think the first four seals are broken. If you believe in that.
My dad, bought me a new car. Or I should say his/our company bought me a car. I used to drive with a lead foot. Not reckless just fast. I would often tell people, “It isn’t my destiny to die in this car. But I don’t know about you.”
And I’d laugh. I was wrong and right. I did die, but came back for you.
One Reaps What One Sows
I had an experience, well this entire life has been an experience, one after another it feels, but when I died in that car accident, I made a deal to find my purpose. I thought I had found it. But lately, I wonder now if I was wrong – and my purpose is yet to come.
I had many vivid dreams as a child. In one I swore I gave birth. I woke up in pain, drenched in sweat. My mom upon hearing my dream, said maybe it happened. Psychics at the fairs would also tell me I was a very old soul. Like dawn of mankind old. That my energy has been here for it all.
I was also repeatedly told I was a healer.
Funny because I have always felt like a destroyer.
That was why I named myself B Love.
It was a mantra, a reminder to be love, to be better.
I suppose I had some guilt in the past. That was in the K Days, so understandably I was riddled with guilt for how I hurt K. I technically cheated on him in his mind, under whatever complicated circumstances.
I was cheated on in my life, and I have cheated – I have helped people cheat. It’s a thing.
Walking Dead
In 1991, I got a phone call on Father’s Day from Fernando‘s other girlfriend.
She was one of 2 others. After the call, I drove over to his house in a fit of rage, too fast. The car slipped in the rain up onto the front lawn of his parent’s home. He lived with his mom and dad. It’s a Portuguese thing I guess to stay with your parents into adulthood. I backed up, and got out the car, and ran to the front door. Him and his parents were standing there – his mom yelling that I was crazy. I smashed him across the face with a plastic cassette tape of songs he had made for me.
I cried for what seemed like forever. He had broke my heart. Broke my trust.
The other girl stayed in a relationship with him. I tried to move on. He tried to win me back. She showed up at The World after hours club that I went to all the time. She threatened me, and she and I had a fist fight on the dance floor. I have a lot of stories, man.
Eventually, I met Max, the saxophone player on my 19th birthday, and we lived together from July to October of 1992 – then I had the car accident. October 25, 1992.
Fernando reappeared. He visited me in the hospital. He even proposed marriage to me, while I was laying there with two broke legs. Even though he knew I was with Max. The balls on him.
After nearly a month and a half in the hospital, I had to move back to the haunted house, to learn to walk again, to live again. I was 19, then 20 before I would walk again with crutches, then a cane, and I lived in the basement of my mom’s house – with the other ghosts.
The after life haunted me. What had I experienced. It reminded me of the vivid dreams of my youth. Once in a dream, when I was a pre-teen, a ‘man’ appeared to me in my room. He seemed an angel, and glowed with the same brightness of the keyhole. It nearly blinded me to see him, but he was the most beautiful being. He told me – I was his bride. He gave me a ring of light. Said his name was Damien. He told me he would be back for me and I woke up.
My NDE at 19 had felt the same, very surreal but that time in total darkness void of all light.
Live By The Sword, Die By The Sword
I turned 50 this year.
It was nice to get out with a group of people, some I have known since I was in elementary and high school. Some that have lived thru my life events with me. They know my reality. It was lovely to get lots of messages and the usual phone calls.
I posted HOLY SHIT I MADE IT on my Facebook. It does shock me sometimes that this is my real life. I turned off my psychic skills, as much as one can, for many years. Just learned to deal with it and not say anything about what I see, what I feel, or what I know.
I have been working on my old energy for a long time. Trying to understand what I am.
Who am I? What am I?
I still find the woo woo fascinating. Each year this online Tarot site gives me a free reading.
So I most seriously asked it… “Will I rule the world?”
It amused me. Apparently people think I am narcissistic – which makes me laugh, hard.
This Situation card below seemed on point, particularly in regard to the website Regretful Groupies.
Who knows, maybe I will open the portal. Maybe I will rule the world.
The devil is in the details.
I have 50 years of them. Details that is. I lived this life, and these folks they lived in it with me. Part of my Matrix. My memories would not exist without them in them. Truth is, I actually do have filters, and as much of my life that I expose, just know that is only the tip of my iceburg.
There is so, so much, that I don’t say.
Loose lips sink ships.
Uploaded October 24th, 2023