Enlustered


Do Ye Rememba: ‘Turn Down Fa Wha—!’

“Is it wrong to steal a lot, Marla?” A voice just asked me. I laughed. I said, no, it depends on what’s in the heart. I do not have the guts (not yet) to go through with stealing anything (not even when I was hungry… mostly for fear of getting caught), I don’t think, but one of the first things I was hearing a lot (and saying a lot) when I started to “let it all hang out” was, “Turn down fa wha–!” on Facebook and even a post on here.

(The voice has talked about stealing before, saying, “Steal from the rich and give to the poor,” or “You’ve been robbed,” or when I was among homeless people in a soup kitchen and worried if it was okay when I left my bags at the table to go get food to eat and a voice said, “You are not among those who rob.” I was among those who had been robbed, I concluded shortly after hearing the voice.)

T’is so great to remember that now (“Turn down…”) and was so much fun then to feel like it was okay to be “wrong” and, for example, post lots (and lots and lots!) of status updates on Facebook, one after another, some with wrong spellings, and almost all with lots a curse words. T’was fun. Of course, the former twin sister kept remarking to me when she did talk about it that “there were so many” status updates that she couldn’t really read, well, any of them, really.

I guess she read a couple, like the one where I said I thought I would have to kill the “decoys” who were fronting as real people AND that I thought she was a decoy and that I’d have to kill her in a battle and that I was very stressed out and turned off and saddened by that. All she was like was, “You’re going to kill me!!! OMG!!! What’s wrong with you?!?!?!” or something. Wow, feeling so disturbed just thinking about that.

Gosh, there’s so much to write about, so much. I have changed my mind about some things. I went to see my older sister yesterday and talked to her for the first time since the end of June on the phone on Tuesday. I just had this feeling that I should talk to her, well, take her number off “blocked” and that same day she called.

I felt so bad later because she was seemed so innocent, so unlike the other family members, but I think all that’s happened hasn’t at all been in vain. I did have the feeling, as I said, that I just wasn’t sure about my older sister, that I didn’t have the same proof I had with the other former family that she was no longer friend, but foe. She hadn’t lied about me the way they did, hadn’t deceived me the way they did, not deliberately, not at all, really. Just responded kind of stereotypically “right” to some questions I asked her and it bothered me so much at the time. She had been infiltrated. But we all are, all have been.

“Not one son left undone,” was also one of the earlier voices/things I posted to Facebook, starting maybe in June, but my “letting loose” began in late May, shortly before I was imprisoned in a mental institution for bashing a woman’s door in, an act I still don’t completely “get.” But later a voice said something about it meaning I was going to “break down doors,” and I know this voice/power with me whom I assume is God has mentioned the importance of not taking no for an answer. These two things seem to go together, dontcha think?

I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed. I think I might really be a “savior” (as a voice has told me a lot, mostly in my second “psychotic episode”) of some kind. The things the voices have told me in the past or things I’ve put together are actually prophesied things, like once I said on Facebook something like, “Blacks will rule the world, it is written,” as a voice told me.

I learned today in a YouTube video that that is actually supposed to happen, I guess. Also, this reversal of roles where blacks are on top and whites are on the bottom is a part of that, as seen in that same video and another, too. One also talked about Christianity being against God… and that was something I said, also, although the video I saw described as talking about that topic didn’t really explain why.

I think it’s because Christianity is kind of about turning people against themselves, not trusting themselves, rejecting themselves (especially their sexual self, “naughty” self) and thinking of themselves as bad. That idea (that Christianity is not the way of the true God) is reflected in another voice or voices I’ve heard saying, “The devil’s day is done. Christ’s son has won.” Or it’ll say: “Christ’s day is done. Christ’s son has won.” I think all these quoted voices I’ve mentioned on here. At first I didn’t know what they meant, later I concluded it meant that the days of self-sacrifice and valuing sacrifice are over and ARE NOT of God.

Kay, well, don’t want to write too much on dis. Have to remember to be down ta earff and mess up so I won’t be a “savior” like Martin Luther King, Jr. Yo. Yoooo. I was so disappointed once that I got a book on Him (felt the need to capitalize that “H”) from the library. I never opened it. I saw him as a nigger (like just a sad, one-dimensional image of what blacks once were in this country to some people) on the front cover in a picture and felt ashamed for feeling that way. I felt like a bad person, like I could never tell anyone I felt that way when I saw Him. That was just what I saw when I saw His picture. I knew why later. That was all He was. A victim, like Christ.

An image, not a human being who actually lived. A sexless thing with no dirty dirt on eeem nowhere. A book like dat ain’t no gud. Ain’t no good. At least not for dis nigga. I didn’t want to read it. It’s supposed to be bad not to read a book or not to read books. I never read much, was an awful English major in the short stint in grad school for it and sometimes too in undergrad. I preferred rap to poetry. I was a dummy posing as a English major.

But then years later (a couple a months ago or earlier) I realized it all made sense. I made sense. I wasn’t dumb. I was just different. I was just human. I was Christ’s son. I was God’s creation, not a sanitized world’s creation. In one context I was perfect. In the other (in the world), I was an abomination.

NOTE: I don’t think race is as we recognize it here. Blacks and their behavior are symbolic of something. Whites and their stereotypical behavior (and seeming rejection of blacks) is reflective of something. I don’t know if I believe all white people will be “on the bottom,” just those who have deliberately oppressed and hurt and looked down on blacks, that would include some (symbolic) “whites” like those in my “family” who tried to make me think I was crazy, saying I said things I did NOT say, trying to leave me at the mental institution, trying to insult and berate me when I was at my weakest in devil whirl’s view, but really they were discouraging me from being unashamed or trusting my intuition, things that are really strengths, but are painted as weaknesses in devil whirl.

(Updated at 3:22 a.m. 8/29/2014.)

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