Fiction. Based on True Psychoses at an Influencer Party
What is the divine feminine?
Mother Aya is.
The combination of the Sinaspell working in perfect union with Eve-O.
Two negative energies turned into a positive 0+.
This is the Age of Aquarius.
This is what Whyhea commanded you to do. To fight the Sinaspell spirit through the Holy ghost.
It is time for the divine feminine to rise.
“See, life is empty and meaningless that it is empty and meaningless.
And when you know that you are set free,” the magician tells her.
“That is 99% true, but I found what’s missing in that statement,” she says.
It’s the missing formula you’ve been searching for, Magician.
Life is empty and meaningless that it is empty and meaningless when God is absent. When you accept God is love as defined in 1 Corinthians 13, you will have the entire completion–You will have the words in both the Book of Knowledge and the Book of Life.
Wake up from the dream you have been creating magician and see the true truth.
“God is Love.”
True or False?
“You are a Goddess,” he says.
“Love is God. You create the meaning!” they say.
True or False?
You are clear now. Now let’s dance.
Angelie was relieved that the Magic photo booth was finally of her hands. She almost lost the entire thing at the influencer party a few days back. She dropped it off at some seedy corner of a market. Both the Influencers and the Magic Men now know her weak points–she’s careless but naively honest. That makes her both vulnerable and loyal.
A Few Days Back
Pray up, Maya reminded her.
She had gone to an influencer summit, schmoozing amongst the best growth hackers in Los Angeles.
Wealth attracts. Knowledge seduces. Power seals.
She had convinced the Magic Men that it would be worth it to use the magic booth at the influencer party, but as the day had gone on, she realized she no longer wanted to be there. Perhaps it was the man in the blue suit, perhaps it was the plastic girl she saw an By the time afterparty started, she had also began to awaken from the plant medicine she ingested in the form of a chocolate bar while everybody else at the party were drinking alcohol. Maya came through.
“Having fun?” Maya asked.
Yeah, I guess. It’s cool to be around smart people who travel and fly everywhere.
“You want to be part of that lifestyle right?”
Then why aren’t you?
Because I want to be in Branson’s arms.
So what’s holding you back?
What part of yourself?
What does pride create?
Power. I’m creating power. Which is why I’m here.
Is that what you really want?
What do you really want?
Maya, I want love.
So who must you be?
And what is humble?
What what is humility?
Humility is not thinking less of yourself but thinking about yourself less.
Who are you thinking about?
What do you think he’s thinking?
He’s empty. He’s lost. He’s busy in busy-ness.
Why do you think that way?
Because I’m empty, I’m lost and I’m busy in busy-ness..
And what makes you think he’s feeling way the same exact way as you?
Because we’re connected.
Connected by what?
Connected by a deeper knowing.
Are you sure?
Is he the one?
Are you sure?
Is he the one?
Are you sure?
Is he the one?
She sees him in the blue suit, dressed nicely in a man’s charm–his body suit is a bald headed guy. This man was talking to Vendetta, a man her former student now turned marketing pro had introduced him to. Angelie had laid back and observed the body language of the conversation. Vendetta became disarmed by blue man’s charm.
Charm is exactly that. A charm. A charm is white magic. Maya informs her.
All magic has a price. Angelie reminds herself.
Angelie inserted herself in the conversation between Vendetta and blue man next to the poolside. She was hesitant. Something is off about the man in blue.
Own your bitchery. Maya said. That’s the way you blend. Toughen up baby girl. You are mu-fucking-lan. Shut up and listen. You are worthy; you play amongst the hustlers, dealers, and perception creators; you are the divine feminine; observe how the masculine energy works and observe how a feminine presence affects the masculine energies.
“So the guy goes up to me and had the nerve to be nice while he is bragging on social media about how he is better than all marketers,” he says to Vendetta. Vendetta takes the beta position. His body language was slightly tilted downwards, with one arm around his neck and the other behind. Vendetta hacked his way out of welfare and he is the sheep in wolf’s clothing, yet his beta position shows Angelie that he is getting caught in his spell.
She could feel the orange and yellow chakras surrounding his heart shine. The blue man reminded her of a snake oil salesman. “Anyway, we pushed half a billion last year just on the world travel client we got from the Moroccan deal,” he said.
“How does it all work?” Vendetta asked, curious. “How does one get into it?”
“You’ll have to just accept the invitation,” he says to him, “to Shadow Castle.”
Angelie remembers the dream after she was shortly baptized. In the dream, she finally met “the one.” He introduced her to both his mother and father–all professors in well respected professions. He later took her to his house. He showed her his garage. He pressed a button, and the cement moved and revealed a glass platform. She looked into what was behind the glass platform that lit up from the inside. It reminded her of a giant underground freezer. Inside were the body parts of the women he had chopped up and saran wrapped. They were all dry frozen like chicken parts stored away for winter’s feast. In this dream, Angelie was stoic at the revealing; she acted as if he had just shown her plastic barbie dolls, but she knew with two eyes wide open what he had actually done. She had to “act as if” just so she could steady her heart. She knew that if he smelled fear, he would start seeing her as a victim rather than as a partner in crime.
He led her to the wide open field of gold fox tails. In the distance, there was a big black barn in the shape of a skewed obelisk, with covered glass windows that reflected the dusk of blood orange sunrays. They took an elevator that led to the top floor of this building. There she saw a old woman that she recognized was granny–perhaps kin, perhaps a familiar spirit.
Granny looked at her and smiled,”Finally.”
“It is time you take your rightful place.”
She smiled so wide you could see her rotting teeth that matched her rotting skin. Around, were black walls and red lights that painted everything in blood. She saw several cages, with hanging hooks that had body parts hanging like some restaurants she used to see that hung pig’s body parts on hooks. Moans and screams were coming out from the cages.
Angelie bolted to the elevator.
She thought about the magician with the 10 million followers on hyperaddict; he now creates the hyperaddict perception that he travels the world, showing people magic and that he’s making tons of money doing what he loves to do.
He had flown a girl on a plane with the prank of making her think that the plane was going to crash. There was a tight shot of her butt for the audience just to make sure they all see her butt.
The butt end of a joke, it’s the act of humiliation that they think tempers humility–even if it means objectifying them to a point that they equate humility with objectification.
The Butt of a joke looks into the barrel end of a gun.
Dark is its humor.
And it’s the trigger man who pulls the trigger.
She looked at the bald man with the tattoo tears. He worked for the top plastic surgeons who turn women who have been broken hearted into plastic.
They know not what they do.
Trading gold for fool’s gold.
She saw the pieces of bodywork chopped up in paintings around the house. She saw through the facade.
The Molesta Files. The Hackers 88 who leaked it. Money, Money, Money. The fallen Xien, this is the Caia party.
You belong here. Rasta told her. Take your rightful place. Your family has sacrificed much for you to be part of our family.
Her legs started to get slightly weak and her body began to shake.
It’s time you leave, Maya says to her.
Take your rightful throne with me, Angelie, Rasta says to her. Stay for the evening. Your family is here, little G. We’ve got diversity, we’ve got lovers, we’ve got influence, we’ve got inclusion–you’re in the family, little G. Don’t forget that you’ve slept with almost all the 13s–we’re all soul-tied baby. You’ll meet the key people who will take this love thing to the next level–
“So people get to create their own definition of love?” Angelie asks Rasta.
“Remember it’s ALL LOVE. Any man here, I give you the power to love and when you express in the physical sense, you are only expressing your love for everyman, woman, and creature. Join us and be my beautiful bride.”
“I am God’s beautiful bride. Not yours. You’re the imitation,” she says to Rasta.
“That hurts Gigi,” Rasta says.
“After all I’ve given you.”
“You mean after all God’s given me? Taking credit for His work again are you?” she says to Rasta.
Angelie continued walking. She was almost out the doorway and she sees the man in blue walking into the house. He stops, “Did you see my Facade?” he had wanted to show her the app of how much wealth he owns, collects, travels or whatever the means in this social sharing app on a phone.
This perception is the deception, Maya says.
He’s yours if you want him, Rasta says.
And then you can also have Branson. He’s our family. The family you belong to, the family your mother and father belongs to.
Bind the Cinaspell spirit and you can transmute the Fire into me, Maya said.
“In Whyhea’s name, I bind the Cinaspell spirit in me and I loose compassion upon her,” Angelie whispers.
She looks at the man in the blue and says straight into his blue eyes, “Don’t gain the world and lose your soul.”
His glassy eyes began to clear.
“Let’s go,” she says to German again. He follows.
You love the way my men touch you, don’t you? Yes, all the men I have sent your way when you were horny for me.
Angelie’s leg begins to shake, her insides getting warm. It was like this the first time she drank alcohol when she was a little girl. The way the men penetrated her.
You like it, baby girl.
Sleep with the men I have waiting for you tonight, and I will give you Branson. Take your rightful throne next to him, and when you become that powerful woman–that rightful queen, you can have Branson and whatever man you so desire.
No weapons formed against her shall prosper, ArchAngel Lechaim says to Rasta. She is sanctified. All the daemons must bow before Whyhea.
“In Whyhea’s name, I bind the Cinaspirit, I break any curse, hex, or spell formed against me. I loose compassion and a spiritual awakening blessed by the Holy Ghost upon the source of these curses, hexes, and spells, in Whyhea’s name.” Angelie whispers under her breath.
“Let me put this in the car first,” he says.
As German leaves, the voice comes back.
It’s now just Maya and Angelie.
His soul is on the line Maya! Branson’s soul! My soulmate. Did you hear Rasta? He’s gotten him trapped, sleeping with all those women keeping him asleep. I can’t stand by while my soulmate is lost among the Lost Boys.
Angelie calm down.
“I need to call and profess my love and say how sorry I am,” she says frantically.
Let go and let God, Maya says to her.
Love is patient. Love is kind.
Remember the more you worry, the more reality of this worry you project. You must have faith–blind faith of Whyhea’s deliverance, and the promises, but you must also act in love. It is commanded.
Angelie ignores Maya and begins to ask him: “Why isn’t he picking up my phone calls? It’s been almost 9 months.”
You are being inconsiderate of German right now. Maya says.
Angelie ignores Maya. Sinaspell is now taking over Maya.
German is back, the man who still lingers and loves her. “I can’t stand it, German. I miss him so much. It hurts. Here I am working on a company called Love story and I can’t even get it together with my own love story. He’s the one, German. I know it in my heart. I know it so much it hurts,” she says to the man who still loves her.
“Hey, it’s going to be alright.” He gives her a big hug. The embrace is warm, gentle, and kind. German has that emanating empathy for Angelie. But it wasn’t German. It was Branson she wanted. She knew she was breaking German’s spirit.
She cries in panic.
She cries in impatience.
She cries because she wants to insist in her own way.
She is breaking German’s spirit. Her inconsideration of his feelings while she is venting is creating spells through her crying spells to break German’s spirit.
Her entire body is shaking. She can’t lose Branson. Not when she has finally found him again…after 7 years, she has finally found him. Her heart breaks. Wake up Branson. Wake up baby, please. Wake up.
Lost Boys are Free
For the Hero’s Workshop
Journaling, Journalism, and the Personal Journey