Time Travel Journey Twins

I time traveled last night
i was where i am now but in a different time (and place)
inhabited by different people to now
and of a people that makes sense but dont makes sense for this island space
but in the current house i am living seems as if there was some kind of neighborhood open house. now you need to understand that this was taking place about four generations ago at the time of each generations birth, so think calculate back we talking what appears to be 1800 /1850 or so but it was not slavery, was not colonialism, it was more looking like middle eastern, ethiopian, israeili, indian, hebrew- people and compounds.which makes sense as I live in a traditional indian enclave and past estate...but what ethiopians, israelis and middle easterners doing in trinidad?

anyway...seems like there was some kind of gathering at my current land lot home. and i see two little indian children run out. in dark red tattered shirts that look like dresses but they were a boy and a girl, just that i never saw any more hair on the girl than the boy and i focused my eyesight on the boy, the little one on the left, but they were always side by side. as i wrote this the first time, i realized i might be talking of twins. So i wanted to see where and how they living to see if i can render any assistance. so i set about on a 'journey' it turns out. so i walk the neighborhood and walked south then west and ended up on a corner where an indian family was picking and sorting fruits right under the tree. a man and two women or three women i am not sure. and I stop and ask directions and describe the children and the told me to go east but i ended up being welcomed into the compound and a man was there amidst plenty flurry and movement and people and women , and he was clearly in charge but without much speaking, no instruction, no barking, everybody was already in their roles, forms and functions, but it was a cool scene. i know i was hosted and welcomed but cant remember or sense on what or how.. so i leave there and moving/ walking east , end up in another neighborhood...this one of high walls and locked gates like israel and ethiopia.

and i end up at a house compound that seemed to be a weigh or travel station intersection where people mingled and had some sort of low key market for it was that intersection i was to get a bus? Or travel further into another direction.. i seem to remember the road looked like a zimbabwean road-- covered in jacaranda or mature trees, but in this compound I was also hosted by the family, yes centered at a man and an extended family members and cores...and i remember walking about and watching the architecture and practices. the high walls had these cloth type tubings in colors that sealed the space between the walls and the roof. it was interesting.. anyway, i was led to this table, seems i was waiting or lollygagging..for the right transport to arrive..but i was led to this african lady selling beads and bracelets and earrings. and she was closing up but i asked her to show me her beads and she pulled all out and i/we selected beads for her to make me a bracelet and it was an odd colors and unique...i remember there was a black and tiger eye bronze type bead that was the head first color, then the last two i picked were peach corral and green. and i was very particular of how they were aligned and circled. and though she was to make it i never made arrangements to get it. and yet still, i was asking her to make my journey with me. i recognized that as a constant in my life. always seeking asking someone to 'come with me' from ever since. since 1987 when i asked nikki to move with me from delaware to alabama.

So i am on a journey, searching for twins of Indian Middle Eastern Ehtiopian paternity and nothing i see or plan makes me stop. I keep moving and going.

the dream was instructive too cause i felt upon waking i was being told something about the identities of people...indians, ethiopians and middle easterners (israelis and hebrews) were once all one people. from one clan

and there is no accident of this dream and Junia Vincent, is there?
twins? or twin soul flames?. ghost spirits? and the merging of male to female and back again. just being.

Good Journey Morning/

IBEJI!
did i conceive?

The Oglala Standing Bear Truths

[" Praise, flattery, exaggerated manners and fine, high-sounding words were no part of Lakota politeness. Excessive manners were put down as insincere, and the constant talker was considered rude and thoughtless. Conversation was never begun at once, or in a hurried manner.
Children were taught that true politeness was to be defined in actions rather than in words. They were never allowed to pass between the fire and the older person or a visitor, to speak while others were speaking, or to make fun of a crippled or disfigured person. If a child thoughtlessly tried to do so, a parent, in a quiet voice, immediately set him right.
Silence was meaningful with the Lakota, and his granting a space of silence before talking was done in the practice of true politeness and regardful of the rule that ‘thought comes before speech.’…and in the midst of sorrow, sickness, death or misfortune of any kind, and in the presence of the notable and great, silence was the mark of respect… strict observance of this tenet of good behavior was the reason, no doubt, for his being given the false characterization by the white man of being a stoic. He has been judged to be dumb, stupid, indifferent, and unfeeling.
We did not think of the great open plains, the beautiful rolling hills, the winding streams with tangled growth, as ‘wild’. Only to the white man was nature a ‘wilderness’ and only to him was it ‘infested’ with ‘wild’ animals and ‘savage’ people. To us it was tame. Earth was bountiful and we were surrounded with the blessings of the Great Mystery.
Kinship with all creatures of the earth, sky and water was a real and active principle. In the animal and bird world there existed a brotherly feeling that kept the Lakota safe among them. And so close did some of the Lakotas come to their feathered and furred friends that in true brotherhood they spoke a common tongue.
This concept of life and its relations was humanizing and gave to the Lakota an abiding love. It filled his being with the joy and mystery of living; it gave him reverence for all life; it made a place for all things in the scheme of existence with equal importance to all.
It was good for the skin to touch the earth, and the old people liked to remove their moccasins and walk with bare feet on the sacred earth… the old Indian still sits upon the earth instead of propping himself up and away from its life giving forces. For him, to sit or lie upon the ground is to be able to think more deeply and to feel more keenly. He can see more clearly into the mysteries of life and come closer in kinship to other lives about him.
Everything was possessed of personality, only differing from us in form. Knowledge was inherent in all things. The world was a library and its books were the stones, leaves, grass, brooks, and the birds and animals that shared, alike with us, the storms and blessings of earth. We learned to do what only the student of nature learns, and that was to feel beauty. We never railed at the storms, the furious winds, and the biting frosts and snows. To do so intensified human futility, so whatever came we adjusted ourselves, by more effort and energy if necessary, but without complaint.
…the old Lakota was wise. He knew that a man’s heart, away from nature, becomes hard; he knew that lack of respect for growing, living things soon led to lack of respect for humans, too. So he kept his children close to nature’s softening influence.
Civilization has been thrust upon me… and it has not added one whit to my love for truth, honesty, and generosity.
"]

~ Luther Standing Bear/
Oglala Lakota Sioux Chief

Guest Blog - RubadiriVictor on MarciaHenville - Trinidad

 BOLDLY GOING WHERE NO MAN HAS GONE BEFORE...

 


NO! The shock of Marcia’s death under obviously violent and strange circumstances is compounded for me by the numbness that arrives right after.  Like a sneaking feeling that ‘this too is expected’…

It was always her working class British perceptiveness about and intolerance for class snobbery and pretension that riled Marcia to action. She could not take that Trini VVIP status crap- finding it especially absurd that we Trinis should be practicing these stupidities with so much abandon in an ex-colony amongst mostly red, black, and brown people… She was a committed journalist first- but then something happened to Marcia, and she switched on- deciding to be completely and wholly herself. To pursue secret passions to the fullest. In all their personal, eccentric, and flamboyant glory.  So Marcia became journalist-as-activist… And a hardcore full-blown British 1970s Punk- Mohawk, studs, coloured hair, rakish thumbed-nose attitude and all. And she started getting the business done! She started descending into the heart of our darkness (into one quadrant of many aortas) and kept bringing back missives of injustice and the realities of these grimy streets… She was boldly going where no man had gone before. At least no mainstream journalist... She made us watch, confront the truth of marginalized lives, and in so doing gave validation to the lives and struggles of the urban poor and disenfranchised. And she sought redress for them. She was not perfect- but who is? She was working on it…

And now this…

What gets me about Trinidad now at ground zero is that the ‘madness in the air’ that is resulting in these seemingly endless surreal murders, ‘accidents’, and compounding tragedies is a symptom of a community that has gone off the deep end and is now living an unexamined, uncontrolled life of Extremes. Extreme Consumption. Extreme Greed and Corruption. Extreme Rage. Extreme Hate and Ignorance. Extreme Violence to Beauty, Mind, Heart, and Spirit- and finally Body…

This atmosphere of freefall and ‘free-for-all’ did not begin with this administration- although they have exacerbated it enormously. It is a darkness that has been advancing for some time. We are falling now because we never stopped the car to find out what that noise was under the chassis. And we knew the brakes were bad. And the gears used to stick. We are falling because of the unanswered questions about ourselves: the unexamined lives of our incest and rapes; our petty and large corruptions; our class, colour, and race issues; our small-island self-hate; our massive narco-economy and its sheltered kingpins; our uncharitable elites; and our social, infrastructural, and economic problems resulting from ignorant, petty, and incompetent politicians and Public Servants we have sheltered and are too lazy to deal with…

We turned our back, but the Beast never stopped advancing…

Because of decades of these things going unchecked we are now at a place of Pandemonium- where up is down, left is right, and all kinds of extreme absurdity can happen. And does! A wheelchair assassin appears and escapes the police right after 2 police assault a wheelchair man in plain view of the public and cameras; a man from North attempts to steal a PTSC bus in South; a $50 million fraud is committed normel normel; a UWI drop-out reaps a forest of weed in his apartment; a Minister is implicated in an assassination plot and a love quadrangle with a DJ and a sports hero right after being embroiled in a corruption scandal worth hundreds of millions; Ministers are accused by several separate people of assassination attempts- one of which is the sickening assassination of a beloved Senior Counsel; murders of increasing boldness and lunacy spiral out of control- children and grandmothers, decapitations, murders and shoot-outs on prime-time TV…  No headline now is too absurd, no new revelation can surprise…

In the midst of this ripping apart of logic and the bonds of a thing called ‘normalcy’- trying to hold, keep, weave, and stitch the fabric back together are a handful of activists and civil society organisations… This bedraggled few are attempting to repair damage, sew and deploy a parachute, and maintain a focus on the real problems responsible for our madness. All at the same time. Amidst the smoke screens and red-herrings of PNM vs UNC a committed few are pursuing the real engineering problems of the national car: lack of a real Public Procurement Policy to regulate the use of Public Funds; lack of a Children’s Authority to oversee issues regarding the rearing of children; lack of a Gender Policy to engage issues of gender equity and the reality of female abuse; lack of policies, institutions, and enablers for the Dreamers , Artists, and the creative spirit of our people; lack of redress for historically dis-advantaged communities; and lack of progressive interventions in East Port of Spain and in collapsing urban communities island-wide…

In this failure of government, in the absence of an enlightened elite, in the boundary-less land of Extremes that emerges when there are no sane checks and balances, Trojans like Marcia emerge. With all their complexities…

Marcia was someone who plunged straight into the maelstrom of that Extremity- being inhabited by some of it herself! And she was good because she made us acknowledge it and because she was finding ways to restore some balance at the nether edges. She began a crusade to bring back tales from the fringes. A fringe that is really our Centre. But how are we to know direction and location in a Land without boundaries?...

Now she’s gone.

The savagery of her end is a mirror up to the savagery of our present. And that savagery is now an increasing norm. Years ago I said:
"As above, so below. As within, so without. The love we as Trinidadians do not give ourselves is the same lovelessness that is returned to us by the soul-less boys now running rampant. The savagery with which we have dealt with our best is the savagery now being returned to us by our worst.”
Our failure to honour the phenomenal Gifts we have been given is now being paid back to us by the crowning of our worst. Take dat!!! In the last 20 years especially we have presided over the neglect and wasting down of: our heroic Ancestors; our genius Elders; our precious cultural Traditions and Legacies; our beautiful buildings and sacred sites; our financial and cultural riches beyond belief… To the point of collapse. All blessings squandered. All Gifts dis-respected.

When you are given so much and spit on it so ungratefully you reap the vengeance of Moko on yourself. And that is what we are living through now…

Marcia’s loss marks yet another scattering blow to Civil Society- that Rosary bead of NGOs and under-resourced citizen-led institutions that actually fulfill the role of government and an enlightened elite… She joins the ranks of the fallen: Dennis Pantin. Norris Deonarine. Pat Bishop. Teddy Belgrave. Professor Julian Kenny. Michael Als. Peter Harris the archaeologist- and dozens of grassroots activists that have paid with their lives in our mean streets... Any one of these people is worth more than 50 politicians… Somehow we must grieve and remember them, rally again, and commit the best revenge possible: we must continue in the name of these blessed Departed and win back the country from the darkness, pen the ‘Feral Elites’, put down the rampaging Principalities and Powers, and exorcise the shadowy  Spiritual wickedness in high and low places…

REST IN PEACE MARCIA. THE MESSAGE IS CLEAR. WE HERE HAVE WORK TO DO…

i did not know where else to put this

http://likes.com/relationships/10-best-sex-positions-for-getting-pregnant?upsell=1&v=129lWYdMjcKNwz8hAJSen7Y41ycVkw0gk

and i have not written anything here since the new year? scandalous

The Power of Drawings

i keep telling you i encounter interesting people and fascinating stories on the streets of the neighborhood and cheers at bars...last night...a very tall dark guy i have been observing walking around...always in a black trousers, sunday shoes and bright colored shirts with a tie. yesterday the shirt was coral peach, but usually i remember a yellow. anyway he knew the older lady, a hadco sales exec i was liming with, and he comes over , greets her like an old aunty, and begins to seek approval for the way he dresses..and it appears it is a concerted effort, one as she tells him to earn respect from others, but two, i heard is because he regularly appears in court before magistrates. cases. so he begins to regale us of his times on frederick street...'the hyatt' as both of them describe it but talking about the jail. and he says how that place need to bun down it is so horrific inside there. and how he doing everything to not return there...but here hear this story:

on one of his stays- he was told of this...there was a foreigner inmate in a cell. he drew a ship on the wall. and told his co-inmates that he is out of there, who coming? he told them tomorrow 1pm the ship sailing.. so a few of them were down for the run but most of them felt he was on shit . as he tells this the listener believes they are hearing about a planned daring escape...but by the time for the lift off, no other inmate rolls with the guy. but close to the time he sits down in front the wall of the drawing and begins to rock as if he is on a ship. and then the story jumps to next morning...the listener again presumes that everyone went to sleep leaving this prisoner rocking...in any case, the next morning, all awake to find him gone, vanished, no where to be found...a few days later, they hear of a person found drowned on the shores of Haiti. the inmate was haitian. he was doing voudou (i said magick). he needed the other prisoners to come with him on the journey for sacrifice. they were not forthcoming, his magick was successful but not to keep him alive. the agent himself became the reward and sacrifice for the accomplishment. we were all spellbound listening. I was tickled to have heard that story. to hear how everyday voudoun is for a few, some.  to hear how the shit works, must work.  and even as I write the account I am thinking how careful it is to know who you are around, with and who you choose to go with...unawares you might be the soul on the platter for the portal and agents working and roaming. brotherman closes the story by telling us since that happening frederick street jail administrators and inmates do not use that cell for any reason, putting no inmates in there at all. I wonder how accurate this story from the administrators' purview and i would have loved to hear the same story by other inmates as well.

there is a whole life and existence beyond the seen, that is bigger and more powerful that what is. seen. The Invisible. and from my own story, and I cited the term last night to the same elder lady when I was telling her i have been unemployed for the past five years, The UnImaginable!

Its A Wonderful Life Christmas Spirits, Miracles and Gift Surprises

do you believe in christmas spirits, miracles and gift surprises out of nowhere??!

wonders of all wonders
do you believe in the christmas spirit along the lines of Its A Wonderful World?
and surprises from the depths of Atlantis?
and gifts from out of nowhere?!

my aunt's ex-husband, Garnet, just dropped by to bring them an assortment of black cakes...and said he wanted to talk to me...that it is years since I give Melise something, How am I doing. and man drop a $1000 in my hand.

I was stunned. I teared.

when did that ever happen to me? from anyone? ever? NEVER

i pray it is a sign of things coming.
an omen for the new life being

on other news...the language for that gift still escapes me..i know i had christmas spirit...but surprise and gifts are so inadequate. -- Olu reminds me: MIRACLES

further...i ate so much significant food at a christmas party last night i dont even feel hungry today:
pastelle, mixed rice, potato cheese pie, pigeon peas, roasted chicken leg that was huge, geera pork. and cabbage confetti salad. i took no fish or ham on my plate.

just now sipping coffee..
wishing bars served coffee and tea
there is so much distance for us to go and reach eh.but when you mention it the lilliputian dwarfs cant see it.

give thanks give thanks

How Do You Speak the UnImaginable?

I have lived the unimaginable again and again

I was born unimaginable in ways i can not extend

Starting with two valid birth certificates

one of my mother's maiden and family name

the other of my father
and so i have been in between and inbetwixt

belonging to no one 

proven and shown until now

2014

===========
the collective of our similar experiences
i am not the only one frustrated and spurned by family
my cousin Jerry tells me how he wanted to open up an aquaponics system in the 80s mind you  on his father's land in wallerfield and he denied him. the language he used was selfishness, envy and jealousy. when i asked if that land is still there and what is being done with it, he says it is still there and languishing.

then both anthony and jerry tried to work with their uncle steve and ended up in conflict and blowouts - ideas unreceived, options and opportunities denied. so now we have a failed business man and one who lost everything before his death. jerry;s words./language

and i listened to those stories on saturday and thought to myself something is wrong with these mother fuckers. their parents and the elders and parents of my stories.

then makemba told me last night it was known or at least he got wind that steve was not so great a businessman. i asked where did that view come from he said from someone who tried to do business with him. well. the proof is in the pudding and laundry always washes out in the end.

someone asked me last night 'if i contribute to the household" and i responded when I have. i shared the story with makemba because it was the first time it struck me in all these years, that when asked that question, how can i tell other people that my attempts to contribute were spurned. but makemba cut me off and said, how can  you contribute if you not wukking no where' but i still persisted even though true to indicate how unexpected unbelievable and alter my story.

when i was making $15K a month, I gave $2K a month to a household of two women, and a paid for house. my father thought it was too much

then when I was making $21K a month, I offered to pay for everything my mom wanted to do in the house to fix it up, maintain, improve, finish her patio, her landscaping whatever. incidentally, i suggested we go to the same steve since he had a construction company. both ideas were spurned. my money was not taken. , not accepted, not in parts or total. and no we not going by steve. if this is not an attempt of a sizable and big contribution i dont know what is

then when my money threatened to vanish, if i keep picking at it little by little to live, i thought and proposed to build a highrise compact apartment in the back. i designed it. it would have kept use of our back yard to hang clothes and children play. over the concrete side is where I would have built up to twelve feet under house high or more. under the fruit trees i would have built a deck patio to the grassy area...the first floor would have been a huge open space with sliding doors on an L shape and huge windows with push out jalousies. kitchen, gallery living room and patio. then the second level would have been the bedroom and bathroom. with a climb to a roof top to lime and oversee the city, neighborhood. I would have rented it to professional women like myself who rented...and where there is a shortage. the way our land was set up it was a straight cat walk from the curb to the back and so there would have been minimal interference with tenant to our house. that was spurned.

but now they get to say and talk that "i dont contribute"
are their words for that kind of subversion, passive aggressive, deceit and treachery?

Cause I dont think so

even when i had no money...contribution means, i could cook, clean the house, manage affairs, relieve the elders of that role, right..do the gardening...but ah...what is the call and concern then.? I am controlling! i want to take over!

it was clear to me that i was seen as a threat and had been treated as such for years before I even discerned it.

my cleaning was called obsessive and ocd. it wasnt. It was just different.
different like i dont use the scrubbing brush in the laundry room used to scrub tires and the bathroom to scrub provision going in a pot.

no one would ever believe my story and that is what i posed to my friend makemba...how can i defend myself against such unknown madness. who would believe such stories

#bloodishateful
when they out to destroy you

two things have saved me in the recent weeks
a neighbor down the street who lived here/there since the time of my grandfather and knows him to his daughter...and has been wondering "how I managing" and the first time he mentioned it i just glanced it over not offering eye twitch, mum or word. the second time he told me his own experience and story and told me she is a 'manipulator' and i never ever thought of that word but that is exactly what she has been doing...i was the golden girl and so she has sown seeds to everyone that i am such a demon, that i do xyz but it has all been the madness and bad behavior one exhibits under the assault of unforeseen shocking surprising forces from within..and then not so much.

i remember the one thing I heard a lot was that I was controlling and it was surprising to me because my only one mission is just to live my life. i so dont bother with other people and what they doing but it was after a while and several shouting matches that i realized what was going on: projection number one and the fact that it was she, they and them who was trying to control me. that was the building block problem right there. and the first control was their anger at me not suing my father, whom they hate with a passion more than me. that is the third problem or first, however you look at it. i am carl huggins' daughter. the man they hate with the globe of hatefulness. the man they will say destroyed their sister.

and then jerry..jerry said something so profound and insightful indicating a skill i dont have...he said he has been around so long and been around so many different characters he can identify peoples energy intent and vibration effortlessly and that these two women never had him fooled. that they were cold and had an aire that they were better than them. and all the aunties hug in a bear grip and embrace but not and never them... and i listened...and realized wow. the other thing people do is when they feel inferior they often appear to treat others as such...and that is what i was hearing...there is such a package of dynamics. i thought of it while I slept last night...the map to understand and delineate the mind, dysfunctional dynamics of people's motivations is often nonexistent. but we have to contend with it anyway.

it has been a long haul
this is what has been destroyed in the fire
I realize i can do installments of destruction by fire, 2014
family is one. career and professionalism is two. male relationships is three
the one thing still standing and struggling to do so by fingernails is the creative ideas of self determination that sprout up like dandelions...persistent!

selah.
i constantly write my testimony!

now imagine if all this occurs with the one person who is to be the matriarch of a family
the one person who was your sole female example from a child into adulthood
have you any idea of the heartache?
but i been here before
the first time with my father
also someone i would never have conceived a certain set of experiences was ever possible
human demons will surprise you
strap on and be ready

to fly aloft away off the cliff in a wing suit
be prepared for the day when the only thing you can do is take it day by day, hour to hour. it is a kind and form of vagrancy.
or spirituality