The first thing I thought about when I woke up this morning was how angry I was yesterday. I “let the sun go down on my wrath” after years of practice. The events that transpired came from the shame and hatred I’ve felt towards myself when I disappointed the people I cared about. Shame manifested in unique ways through my experiences in the real world. I still look in the mirror sometimes to confirm what I’ve heard from many strangers, family members, and people that I thought were friends, “You’re Ugly”, “I didn’t notice your face without makeup” or, “Is that a man?”, ‘Why do you have that gap?”,”I thought you were your sister’s mom”, “they don’t do favors for people that look like us”, a former co-worker had said to me while waiting to order food in our cafeteria. Their words joined forces and created a monstrous echo that tells me I am not worthy or good enough. When I attempt to step outside my comfort zone, a place where the noise phases out and peace prevails, those voices speak louder than my sanity can handle. Normally my first thoughts are to run by indulging in irresponsible behavior but, I don’t want to feel this way anymore.
Life is but an adventure in which we learn how to become one with rourselves with the help of the dark night of the soul. The dark night will challenge our ego and force us to confront all the things that keep us from progressing on the journey through life. The Dark night has been nudging me for a long time saying, “It’s time to let go of what no longer spiritually serves you,” and to,“ irrevocably give yourself grace and love.” I will never be what others expect of me. Real life is the opposite of what the world accepts and expects. How someone else is doing isn’t a real comparison to the story of your life. So far I have learned that gratitude is the most important tool to combat oppression. What I don’t have or how I look is nothing in comparison for all I do have.
I am grateful to be 42 years of age and have lived through hardships that blessed me with my beautiful and brilliant daughter. I love my family, I appreciate the friends I do have, I value my peace because it is the space where magic happens, and I am grateful for the gifts I enjoy pursuing. All of these things are enough because I know that my gratitude will increase exponentially when I count my blessings.The dark night has been teaching me to give thanks to the pain because it allows me to grow into someone I’ll always be proud of instead of becoming someone I will one day be proud of. Always remember that life is a beautiful journey written by you. The dark night is challenging you to be in this world but not of it so that you can make your story an epic one.
“The prophesized days of darkness have been upon us for centuries. An illusion created by the fallen angels had given birth to the cycle of life and death. Mankind documented interactions with these demigods and formed religious beliefs in favor of blessings. As humanity continued to evolve faith became the agenda used to conquer territories in the name of “the one true God”. Once America was born mankind and the gods they believed in were given a space to launch the great experiment that would circumvent and conquer every god so that only one would remain. E pluribus unum, how the many become one. This Roman clause supported by European dictatorships invaded lands, captured its people, and imprisoned their Gods through slavery. Every resource was stolen for profit and power by sacrificing indigenous souls to their almighty God. Where are the ones who will save us, or are we meant to save ourselves? Thank you for watching, please leave a….”
Hi“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” A listless 42 year old Miara Jackson mumbled to herself while returning to her desk after a 15 min work break. She just finished viewing a video posted by Rebel Clans, a YouTube channel she’s followed for a few years. Miara had been working in Center City Philadelphia as a customer service representative for TelArk Tech Innovations for the past five years. She has felt overwrought, underpaid and undervalued for quite some time. Lately she’s been wrestling with her poor performance evaluations at work. Her customer billing inquiry calls have exceeded the 4 minute 59 second allotted time for the past 4 months and her quality assurance scores made her feel emotionally inept, as if she were immune to empathy. To add to her resignations she was one negative evaluation away from being fired from a job she hated but depended on. However, Miara didn’t have time to think about her traumas; she couldn’t even think about celebrating. Her life was centered around TelArk with its thought-reducing mundane tasks and life strangling policies. Her lack of fulfillment made her move about life ever pressingly robotic detaching from her identity and her desires.
“Thank you for calling TelArk this Mi…”
“I don’t care who this is.” A man with a raspy voice shouted into the phone. As he continued Miara had reached her breaking point. Since 2020 the world has faced a massive lockdown due to Covid; People of color were being propagandized by the left and right wing media; Americans were told the pandemic was over while humanity argued over vaccine hesitancy, to efficacy, and to wondering if the technology contributed to the rise of Sudden Adult Death Syndrome. Primarily, Miara could no longer be a makeshift Jesus sacrificing her peace for a company’s clientele whom they cared very little for. She hung up on the customer, signed off, called human resources and with confidence said,
“I quit.”
Miara left the office and stepped out into the icy air of January in Philadelphia, a place that’s not always so sunny. The aroma was so much sweeter now though she had chosen the path of uncertainty. She wasn’t quite ready to head home, so she decided to take a walk through Olde City. When she arrived at the Liberty Bell she marveled over its universal meaning and her nuanced perceptions.The last time she had visited Olde City was during a Lawton Elementary school trip in the late 1980’s.This historical landmark reminded her that there was a massive fracture in what freedom represented for her and many others. In her eyes America should have always stood for freedom for all. But instead it ranked people by breed and used spiritual concepts to overpower Native populations, their resources and their land. Slavery had been a mechanism used to obtain what never belonged to the victors and to enrich the legacy of their kingdoms. Once the torch was passed to America’s Jim Crow, hourly wages and systemic greed replaced slavery.
“You either win it all or lose everything in this life. In the end people really do suffer from lack of knowledge,”she sighed, turned around and walked away knowing that she made the right choice to leave TelArk.
She made it to the parking lot and got into her 2016 Hyundai Tucson. After igniting the engine she clamped her phone onto the wireless charging mount and pressed to play the next song on her playlist, “555” by Jimmy Eat World. As the first chorus dropped the song began to lose transmission similar to switching between AM/FM Stations.
“I’m doing the things I’ve been told
Everyday
Everyday
Everyday
Then why does it feel like I’m lo…..”
“Hello….hello…..Mia..ar…do yo…. Miara, do you hear me?” Said the voice of a man breaking through the track. Miara first thought that there was an issue with her radio until the man spoke again.
“Miara, if you can hear me?”I’ve been searching for you for many lifetimes.” his voice echoed from every direction.
Frightened, she demanded.“Who are you?”.
“You Must Remember Who You Are.” he repeated as the song cut in and out erratically until it abruptly ceased. Storm clouds filled up the sky as lightning ushered them in.
“Pol……….ar……..is.” the voice hissed.
Rain poured down from the heavens and tap danced on the roof of her car like tiny soldiers gearing up for battle. The sky darkened with each clash of thunder and bolt of lightning and Miara had no choice but to find refuge. She pulled into a parking lot on the westend of Kelly Drive overlooking The Art Museum of Philadelphia.
“MIARA!” He shouted with authority.
His mighty voice commanded the earth to shake. An Apparition began forming where the Art Museum stood and Miara was compelled to step out of the car to gain a better perspective of what was taking shape. Reality traversed between the present and a bygone era of Philadelphia before the Art Museum was erected and before there was a William Penn. A tall dark man dressed in 15th Century Moorish clothing began descending down from the heavens towards Miara. Gentle and golden rays of light lit the path behind him. The light was a part of him and emitted a powerful frequency revealing her true purpose. A wave of memories washed over Miara as she recalled why she was sent to this planet. Long ago she performed a powerful spell to protect the planet and its savior from an Alien race that needed the lifeforce of enlightened indigenous populations to survive.
“Do you remember now?” He beckoned as he lovingly gazed into her eyes.
“Emmanuelle?” her eyes dazzled like tiny shooting stars as tears began flowing down her face.
“Yes, my queen.”
“How long has it..” she trailed off but continued
“The fallen angels?”
“We lost but,” Emanuelle had begun to explain.
“And Sela?” She interjected
“She knows everything.” replied Emanulle.
“Let us go to her then.” She said with urgency.
The fate of the world was in jeopardy and the savior needed to be found before the Age of Crucifixion had begun. A moment before time rippled back to the present they joined hands and proceeded to walk into the light.
To be continued…..
This is the first time I’ve posted an original story. This short story is part of a larger series I’ve been developing for a while. I had to do a lot of research to form a cohesive story that was both entertaining and filled with some facts. I am excited to share topics that peak my interests and allow me to grow creatively before an audience.
I can recall many moments throughout my life when I failed to either raise my hand to ask for help when I was a child or express the authenticity of my voice to others in my adult years. I once hoped that I would remember the moment I lost the connection to dream freely, in a world where I vocalized my desires without a care but to dream. But, then I realized that retracing my steps perpetuated a false narrative of living life no differently than an NPC (non-playing character) in a Matrix simulated by me. I learned that the present is all that matters because the present builds future experiences. Life is vast, complex and infinite but I didn’t always see it that way. I let my private battles lead me down the path of the yellow brick road, losing my voice to battle scars along the way. It wasn’t until roughly a month ago while I was meditating that I discovered a way to activate my throat chakra.
I dreamt louder than my tribulations. I activated a habit to express pure love by sharing my passions. If you are reading this and you are a family member or a close friend you know that music heals my soul and writing allows me to share the inner workings of my contented mind. My 8th grade English teacher Ms. Jeska believed that I would become a writer one day. I locked her belief inside places where I could turn her encouragement into a prophecy. In the past I demonstrated selfishness. I hurt people because of my actions and greater, I hurt myself. I gave power to fear and justified playing the role of a victim. As I write these words I can’t help but to be proud of how I’ve bravely overcome the many idols that imprisoned my hopes.
There are no crystals, or emblems, or people or faith that can open the gateway to the best version of yourself and I know that saying something like this may come with resistance. However, I beseech that if we are to be like God then why do we so frequently give away our power to everything but God or to whomever or whatever we believe in? I believe with certainty that there are countless people who’ve lost their voice and may be in a place where they don’t know how to find it. I’ve identified as once being lost in the fear that I called my failure to speak up but no more. Live as boldly as you can. Make the world around you uncomfortable by applying your voice in places where free speech may have been forgotten or is yet to be discovered. Live out your dreams and forget the lies that express inadequacy. You were born with a purpose, you were born to be free, and you were born to add a new perspective in the world.
Petrified, I laid in my bed as I’ve practiced over the past 3 years. Frozen in an era of time before the world had stopped. In fact my life had once taken flight in a debris filled hurricane and I had lost control and sight of ill-repaired wings that I could describe only as broken. Disguised happiness is a danger to the soul. In fact, for the majority of time I had felt as if I were intermittently drowning and every time I had come up for air nostalgia would pull me under into the sea of my distorted memories over and over like a broken record.
A day really does make a difference when you understand the power you keep to be the author of each day showing up in ways that no one else can. You demonstrate the gratitude for the storm that came before the calm until the tiny sparks of that gratitude flicker into a flame and you then use that flame and shift it around in the world you wish to create; a beautiful wildfire. This is how I became “unstuck”, “disjointed”, no longer cryogenic.
I woke up to a paradise of all the things I’ve ever wanted. Eyes shut or open I could feel, smell, see the beautiful world I once dreamt about as a child. I could see the little ballerina hopeful dancing in front of her Christmas tree to the tune of the Sugar Plum Fairy’s, pastel pink with golden hues pirouetting around her. A tiny human I’ve created that exemplifies what I understood at a very young age when I knew the difference between love, hate and forgiveness. Halls of music all around me filled with moments I’ve treasured with the ones I’ve loved. What I feared no longer resides with my sacred spaces.
January 2nd, 2023 3:33am
“R.E.M”
“Re”
“Member”
“Re”
“Mem”
“Re”
“Mem”
“Ber”
With blurred vision and a dream rapidly detaching the world of the subconscious and the world of the living, I withdrew from victim mentality and draconian manipulative programming. And wrote these words:
“Today and everyday is beautiful there is no going or wanting it just is! Italy takes flight this year, writing retreats takes flight this year, completing and publishing my first book takes flight this year, playing a new instrument takes flight this year, authenticity takes flight this year. Accountability takes flight this year, manifesting an abundant life takes flight this year, demonstrating love takes flight this year. Prioritizing my daughters happiness & the time we share takes flight this year. There is no ending in the realm of manifestation. The road through life isn’t supposed to be easy and that is what makes it the most beautiful.”
The Happy Nappy Project 