Last week, I completed my first choir spring retreat, and the week before, something miraculous happened. The ex that everybody seems to hate that hurt so many women and girls, known as KO, JDO among others, seems to have been locked up. WHoever tries to bail out a monster like that should think twice. First, he blames his victims and the victims are mostly minority blind women who submitted to any number of things, and Jason prefered weak minded souls. But none of the girls were weak, not even Jennifer, on whom may God and his mercy rest, not even myself. As one of 150 girls in a courtroom said to Larry Nasser, and this also applies to Jason, “Girls don’t stay little for long. They turn into strong women who will return to destroy your world.” The man had porn on his computer, both Mr. Nasser (to use his former title would be an insult) and Jason, both had problems with abusing little girls. Jason devalued the girls for their disability or should I say the plural, disabilities? HE even devalued poor Jennifer, and thankfully, the #metoo movement put a stop to many a man’s hard fist against a woman. Jason did lay a hand to former girlfriends, made them cry, manipulated us until we were completely under his control. Now he will have to sit and think about it while in solitary.
As for me, my wedding date has had to change because of finances, and unfortunately, nobody supported the October date. We need a date to commit to, but social security, lack of jobs, and finances are prohibitive of us having even the smallest gathering. Even that would be written off as a fake fairy tale in the eyes of my parents, on whom the devil rests because of their abusive and negligent guardianship. I learned that the late Marie Mannigan loved me, and left behind a husband and children. Sometimes, I wish there was something I could do to bring her back. But alas, I cannot raise the dead. Her friend Mary got in touch with me, and during a Facebook live stream, I heard about how it happened. It was sad, I won’t reveal the details here for fear that many Titusville High alums might find it offensive. But may God open the door to Marie and a graceful mansion shall await her in the Heavens, she will have a balcony on which she can float around and watch all of us, every single person she’s ever touched. Marie is with Carrie and now Stacie Fulford on whom God shows mercy even when the torment of her mental state killed her. Stacie and Marie, you are both in my prayers, your families are both in my thoughts and prayers. Walk in the way of God now, and bless me with your presence every night in bed. Reminding me of the Hansel and Gretel prayer that I ended up singing, that Charlotte Church so graciously recorded, “When at night, I go to sleep. Fourteen angels watch to keep. Two are on my right hand, two are on my left hand. …” You get the picture.
It makes me sad to see all the people I care about, who cared for me, who loved me dearly, these people are dropping like flies. Am I a curse to these people? Or are my parents wishing death on my friends? What is going on? My parents cannot wish me killed, ill, or dead. They could never try a tactic like this on Trenton either. I won’t let their cold evil spells which got them the right to abuse their powers, treat me like a burden, and isolate me; these evil spells that might have killed Stacie and Marie. Marie left with a hero’s homecoming, she surely might have saved my life from being wrecked. Mary has a home of her own, a relationship, who knows? But I have no job, no support from family, and no one will donate to the GoFundMe account that will go toward wedding expenses. 10k for a wedding, that is all I ask, 5k for fifty people at least. I want to be surrounded by well wishers, not evildoers. I lament not being able to call or speak to Marie before her death, and I’m not trying to sound superstitious, but the wrong words uttered by a warrior whether in prayer or otherwise could cause harm to another. Perhaps my parents might get something back, something that tells them that my life is precious and should not be taken from me. I want to die an old lady warm in her bed as Jack said in Titanic, Leonardo Di Caprio playing the part that went down as a love story for the ages. Caitlin Winslett and her character were meant for each other. As Rose mourned the loss of her lover, families broke apart beneath the sea. For me, that ship sank with the tragic words, “We’re gonna get guardianship so we can take care of you.” What did this all mean? What it means is, “You are not a valid person. You are less than, as inferior as the handmaids in Margaret Atwood’s book. You will die alone with no children while Danny and Tommy are showered with estates of gold and silver, their wives teeming with the choices of a boy or girl, all sent to private school.” Well, listen up, I’m not the only one who was able to see through this foolishness. Mary saw it, her friends did and so did Emily. My dear friends in Titusville should see an open door that Denver could be. That town is lost, too Conservative, haunted by the ghosts of those who’d passed.
AS Trenton tries to sleep peacefully, I am not willing to fall into sleep. IF I did, would I have dreams of death or falling? I’ve never had these nightmares, but I don’t want to be the victim of sleep paralysis for long. Nor do I want to be the victim of drugs, side effects of drugs, or lies about a mental state that is just a bunch of hogwash to make sighted superiors feel good about themselves. WEll, as for the rating the family gets for not supporting me, not giving me money for wedding expenses, not supporting my dreams instead of a market I can’t fit into you deserve a poor rating. Don’t tell me you are superior. No, you didn’t treat me like as the Turpins did to their poor children and now the adults are in jail, their kids separated into foster care for the minors and assisted living for the adult victims. You didn’t starve me, but you starved me emotionally, deprived me of individuality because I was a girl who was blind. You also wasted your pennies on private religious school, where it should be spent on orchestral lessons and not Catholic dogma. I do have good friends who are Catholic, but my experience was negative in Florida. I saw my friends in the church get married, both blind, Catholic, but they’re liberal in a lot of ways. They both have diabetes, and they manage it with loud voices that don’t take the crap from anybody. Sheltering me in Titusville will not help the situation, and I lament the loss of friends not to Mom’s fantasy threats, but to possible superstitious and evil witchcraft on the part of people who supported them. If I could reverse the damage, I’d bring back the dead ones, bring back Emily’s lost child, and I’d bring back my ex’s brother if only to tell people that they are the witches Salem won’t admit to their borders. And witchcraft in the way of warlocks is evil according to wicca, which is a pagan Celtic religion. Wicca believes in doing good, not evil, as so many might believe. But wicca rituals I have seen are similar in part to the “hoodoo” rituals that Zora Neale Hurston writes about in her books. But it’s a lot more powerful. If I could choose a faith tradition, it would be the way of the Native Americans, as they treated disabled people as one of their own. Historian Kim E. Nielsen writes that a deaf Native woman could find a partner, have and raise her own kids, and participate in spiritual society. Navajos are no exception. They would have a sing not to cure blindness, or deafness, or the inability to walk, but to combat the spirit or imbalance around that person. Sing ceremonies were common for healing, but for curing disabilities and ailments like blindness, it was not the case. In choir, we’re singing a Navajo prayer, and I hope this prayer will overpower the negative energy that my family has flashed at me like a naked body of a grown man. Father Sun, and Mother Earth, those are the natural parents of animals and humans and plants. I hope to return to as the Natives put it, to the earth, Mother Earth, when I die an old lady having fulfilled my business.