Hex

Hex

flamesWell, here we go again, two weeks after the candle burning ritual and invocations that had caused me an abnormal headache which completely stopped the next day has begun again.

It all started yesterday, subsided, and then returned more intense during the night as I was asleep. When I’d turn over in bed or get up to go to the bathroom I could feel the unnatural circumstances that was wickedly producing my pain not to mention the flashes of hidden light that I could see upon initially retreating (heading off to sleep) as I lied down to bed.

Upon waking up this morning the discomfort still remained, though, through out the day the ache would go in and out intermittently come and go as my energy simultaneously drowned out the duration of the rituals.

The last time this happened my adversaries were trying so hard to bring back the Brujeria I discovered the following Sunday on the 14th of February. It hadn’t crossed my mind because they had prior weeks before made an attempt that failed (just like many other times within the past) as I know for a fact that the Black Magic is unable to return no matter what measures they take or who they may inquire and acquire to help them out.

rose petalWhen will they learn that they cannot vanquish me?

Although they are already by their own self inflicted errors ruined, if anything, I am the one that has all of the power to utterly destroy them.

 

Shield Of Armors:(https://misslatoya.wordpress.com/2016/02/18/shield-of-armors/)

Skull:(https://ladylatoya.wordpress.com/2016/02/09/skull/)

 

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Lust Spell

Lust Spell

come to me candleThere have been numerous attempts over the years to unnaturally make me desire and become attracted to certain guys that if I weren’t asexual still wouldn’t have given the time of day as they had totally repulsed me.

It has been over for a while now so far but about three years ago, give or take, there were these two particular assholes who had kept up their shenanigans for quite the longest out of anyone belonging to their cult or within the conspiracy that was set against me.

They prolonged their demonic activities for a good seven years straight until one gave up in February of 2014 (the light complexioned one) after realizing that his efforts were continuously being done in vain.

It took him seven years to find out? Wow, what a severe wacko!

The other guy (the dark complexioned one) proceeded a little more over the seven years here and there even though after getting embarrassed and humiliated once over an incident to the point of wanting to quit at performing the love and attraction spells due to the unsuccessful “voodoo-venture” that I was extremely resistant to.

He told me he liked me through telepathy although I had already known that the first night that he had approached me on the street back within the year of 2008 with a phony excuse to get my attention.

Also, through empathic vibration it had long before been made known unto me that he was attracted to me but that he was not going to approach me yet after some time had passed he eventually did, however, it was spiritually instead of physically (in person). This guy is so jealous of my life as the revelation had come to me so many times and on more than one occasion serving as another explanation as to why he desired to cause interference.

What was one of the most derogatory within all of the actions in regard to their spell work was when they found and had the nerve to actually tamper with my vagina. They tried to give me a sexual feeling by manipulating my genitalia. They wanted me to become aroused with the sensations of lust in order to get me to have intercourse with them and/or to go out and sleep around with men in general so that they could talk and gossip about it since they had no kind of dirt on me, absolutely nothing authentic.

genitalsNumber one, I personally didn’t even know these two guys aside from the both of them having had approached me and them knowing the people that was from my old neighborhood whom I may have been scarcely acquainted with at one time or another.

Of course, there endeavor resulted in the ultimate failure and they had never ever performed that ritual again other than that one time.

How in the world did their minds contemplate such an absurd skill of plan? It just went to show how sick in the mind the both of them were and still are people like that do not change, if anything, just as the dead they get worse.

I’d hate to be in the harsh reality of what they live and dwell within, and the type of women that they are limited to deal with obviously are too low for even the dogs to bite as they all fit into an equivalent mode of category.

 

I’ve written about these two before:

The dark complexioned one/Satanic Measures(https://ladylatoya.wordpress.com/2015/12/25/satanic-measures/)

The light complexioned one/A Spell On Valentine That I Had To Decline(https://ladylatoya.wordpress.com/2016/02/02/a-spell-on-valentine-that-i-had-to-decline/)

And them both/Dirty, Rotten And Pitiful(https://misslatoya.wordpress.com/2012/11/16/dirty-rotten-and-pitiful/)

There are few more selection of post in relation to them as I chronicle many of my variety of experiences.

Backfire

Backfire

glassAside from the many negative of energies returning back to the sender black magic can also bounce off away from its target and unto inanimate objects.

Often when my adversaries would try to cross me or another family member up who were fortunately protected and spiritually resistant to the harsh effects of the demonic activity the energies would boomerang and go into specific parts of the house causing both minor and major temporary or permanent damage.

When we’d look at and observe all of the unexplainable sections of water stains, mildew, decay, cracked paint, dirt and dust, or problems with plumbing there was only one thing that added up and that was the manifestation of evil that had went into it.

Ever since her teenage years my mother had worn good quality sterling silver bracelets that she still wears till this day and whenever she’d get significantly ill her bracelets would turn very dull and dark, nearly black.

The same thing would happen to the bracelets when someone directed the workings of black magic toward her way and by the look of those bracelets along with the scenes of our home that occurrence just revealed how bad of a state the both of us would have been in if we had actually became vulnerable to all of the spells that were intended to inflict havoc upon our life.

I remember years ago how someone brought a business card into my home that was conjured, thinking that such a small item such as a thin piece of card stock wouldn’t raise up any type of suspicion, however, as one highly sensitive to vibration I had detected the negative energy within more ways than one as I watched the vileness as it sprung out from the business card and traveled within the atmosphere.

Immediately, I removed the business card from the house and threw it into the outside garbage can and three days later the guy that brought the card his car had broke down and eventually he had to get another vehicle. He was stopped dead in his tracks.

reflectionHis mother also had the nerve to get involved because among their kind they wanted to get in on the conspiracy and possibly be the ones responsible for having the ammunition to take me and my mother down in order to gain that street-trash credit that entertains the junkie mindset.

In another endeavor the silly bitch had sent her son back over to our home this time with some yarn that was conjured. As I was crocheting I felt the negative energy after it had left out of the acrylic threading enter into my leg, nothing happened though, when he left I threw the yarn away so he’d be non the wiser yet he knew that there was no desired result because, along with other failed attempts by many others, when he had gotten home he asked his mother, “Why can’t nothing happen to her?”

And his mother told him as she had to face the truth, “That is just the way that it is”.

 

A Ride In The Lincoln Town Car

A Ride In The Lincoln Town Car

strollThis is another excerpt from my book that “within idea” I conceived back when I was twelve then wrote in between 1999 to 2000, and published in 2003:

Dirty old man Earl spotted Kelly walking down the street. He was a dark-skinned man in his fifties with a medium build, wavy black hair, a big wide nose, thick mustache, yellow teeth and a pot-belly. He slowed down in his dark green Lincoln Town car to ride alongside her.

“Hey Kelly!” Earl called out.

Kelly turned to look at the man whose voice spoke her name.

“Hi Earl”, she said in return.

“Where are you going?” He asked, looking at her through his car window.

“To the check cashier”, she said, ducking her head down to meet his cold-blooded eyes.

Earl stopped his car. “Hop in; I’ll give you a lift”. Kelly didn’t waste any time getting inside of earl’s fancy car. When she shut the door to his vehicle, he lustfully gazed down at her thick long legs. Earl had admired Kelly’s voluptuous body for years. He drooled at the sight of her big breast, curvy hips, wide thighs and big behind. Her face wasn’t too bad to him either. Kelly had a pointy nose, high cheek bones and a full set of lips.

“Them thighs on you got me as hot as an oven”, uttered Earl.

Kelly blushed. “Earl, you need to cut your shit out”.

Earl started up his car and drove slowly. As his left hand steered the wheel, his right hand gently rubbed the skin of Kelly’s knee.

“When are you gonna give me some?” He boldly asked.

Kelly removed Earl’s hand from her knee and said, “I got a man”.

Earl got indignant. He wrinkled up his big wide nose uttering, “Who Daryl? He ain’t shit!”

Kelly was for some reason offended. Even though her man often mistreated her she still found it in her heart to take up for him. “You don’t know nothing about Daryl”, she said.

“Oh no?” Earl said, derisively. “I’ve known him since he was a baby. Shit, I use to fuck his mama!”

Kelly didn’t want to hear any more of what Earl had to say. She was sorry for accepting a ride in his car. “If you don’t like my man, that’s on you”.

Earl sneered at Kelly. Keeping a close eye on the road and then glancing back at her, he uttered, “You think you’re the only woman he’s been fucking? Well let me tell you, that man of yours is a player”.

Kelly was startled and hurt by Earl’s blunt words. She felt stupid and angry both at the same time and she questioned him. “How do you know whether or not my man is cheating on me?”

place“I be out here”, Earl said. “I see everything”. Kelly looked Earl straight in his cold dark brown eyes when he parked in front of the check cashier. His facial expression was made clear and she could see that he was proud of himself for attempting to break her heart. He wanted and intended to make her feel bad and, in her case it worked. Most low-life was on the same level they only had a one track mind. And since Kelly and Earl were of the same class-ignorant, immoral and worthless-they both knew how to get the best of the other. Their kind was always playing stupid games on people. Their sick mentality made them all incapable of fitting in with those people in particular that were above them. “You ain’t shit”, Kelly told Earl.

“What did you think? That I would be so devastated and retaliate on Daryl by fucking you?! Well I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of trying to dog me out some more”.

Earl sneered at Kelly again. “You played yourself; you did it on your own by letting all of these niggers dog you. I just want to pick up the scrap to show everybody that I’ve cleaned up the garbage!”

Kelly departed from Earl’s car in a fury and slammed his car door as hard as she could in an attempt to break it. He watched her enter into the check cashier, muttering a few derogatory words to himself. Then, he pulled off, searching for other women to screw.

Kelly finished her business rather quickly. There were barely any people occupying the place. When she left out of the check cashier, her first move was to the liquor store. Earl’s negativity had worked up her nerves. Kelly purchased a quart of rum along with a half a pint of vodka. She needed a couple of drinks to prepare her for the confrontation that she was going to have with Daryl later today.

 

PeacoT Club

PeacoT Club

discoThis is another excerpt from my book written in 1998 and then published in 2001:

When Rossi came to hang around with friends on the block sometimes he paid Emilia a visit. He still called her by her ex husband’s last name, Mrs. Tyler. Others also referred to her in that manner. They would sit and talk, drink, smoke marijuana, and who knows what else. Even before Emilia’s stepdaughter Colleen died Emilia liked Rossi and wanted to be with him. Finding out Penny was seeing him deeply bothered her to a point where she couldn’t help but interfere. Emilia barely knew Penny. They use to see one another years ago, and would greet one another, but now, out of jealousy for a man, Emilia spoke ill of Penny.

At first, the game she tried to play wasn’t noticed. It was the second play that tipped off Penny that she was being set up. Emilia started by constantly insisting that Jasper invite Penny out for a night at the PeacoT CluB, a place to mingle, have drinks, eat and dance.

“Mrs. Tyler keeps buggin’ me to ask you if you would like to go out. She wants the three of us to hang at the PeacoT cluB”, Jasper told Penny. “I don’t know why she keeps on persuading me to tell you, she don’t even know you”.

“I don’t understand it either”, Penny said.

“Emilia said you look real good for your age, and that you have a nice shape”.

Penny didn’t comment. She just figured maybe the jet black, fat, out of shape, ugly bitch envied her some. Curiosity tempted Penny to take Emilia up on the offer. Penny just wanted to find out where she was coming from, and what she was up to.

One Friday night Jasper and Penny went with Mrs. Tyler to the PeacoT CluB. Jasper wore a black tuxedo; Penny wore a spandex dress that came above her knees, stockings and high-heeled shoes; Emilia wore some multicolored, glittering, sequined shit that most women wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. Jasper’s sister Sally and her admirer Sherman decided to come along and share a table with them.

night outHosting at the PeacoT Club was a fifty-something-year-old man named Mr. Bellamy, who also happened to be a tenant in the home where Mrs. Tyler lived.

Mrs. Tyler and Mr. Bellamy were suppose to chip in and buy some liquor, but he left her hanging, and she ended up paying for a whole fifth of Absolute vodka.

After Jasper, Penny, Sally, Sherman, Mrs. Tyler, and Mr. Bellamy digested a taste of liquor, they danced.

An older man came over to Penny and wanted her to boogie with him; she accepted. Sally and Sherman did their “thang”. Jasper tried his best to groove with Mrs. Tyler, but it just wasn’t happening. They looked more like a sideshow in the circus. Mr. Bellamy didn’t bother to dance, he just observed everyone else.

After time passed, Mrs. Tyler sat at the table. Her eyes were fixated on Penny. She continued to watch as a few different men came and offered Penny a dance. Even Mr. Bellamy took Penny on the dance floor. Not one man at the club asked Emilia Tyler for a dance.

 

109th Street Walton Road

109th Street Walton Road

empty streetThis is an excerpt from a book that I published in 2003:

“It’s a shame for you to have to see your sister in that condition”, Ronnie said, with sincere compassion within his heart. And his eyes were filled with sorrow.

“I know”, said Danielle. Then she looked Ronnie in his brown eyes and gravely uttered, “He’s gotta pay”.

Ronnie was a bit startled. “You know who hurt Courtney”, he asked his young niece.

Danielle paused for a second because out of anger those words had slipped out. Then she decided to welcome the courage that she had deep down inside of her body and boldly conveyed, “Yes. I think it was Bruce”.

As he was startled and proud of Danielle for being so keenly perceptive regarding the situation he was so pleased at her for confirming what he was very sure to be true. “I believe so too”, he told his niece. Ronnie looked Danielle in her sad big brown pretty eyes and said, “I want you to tell me the truth. Has Bruce ever hurt you?”

Danielle bowed her head down and began to cry then looked back up at her uncle and into his eyes. “Three times”, she said.

Ronnie tenderly kissed his niece goodbye. Danielle didn’t have to say any more because he had a positive idea of how she’d been hurt. And when Ronnie made it home to his place he dranked a whole small bottle of liquor. All sorts of things were running through his angry mind and, killing Bruce was one of them. After an hour went by, Ronnie didn’t want to waste any more of his time. He decided to put the plan he’d came up with into action. And his scheme was to have someone beep Bruce and meet with him over on Walton Road by 109th street at eleven p.m. A False drug buy seemed like the perfect bait for Bruce to take.

When Bruce did arrive on Walton Road he was very surprised to see Ronnie there. “What are you doing here?” he asked him.

“I’m here to take your ass out”, said Ronnie. “You’ll never touch my nieces again”.

Bruce used a moment to think to himself. “You set me up”. He said, shocked.

Ronnie sneered at the ruthless drug dealer and snidely uttered, “In the worst way”. And he was ready to carve a very sharp blade deep into the layers of his rotten flesh.

When Bruce saw the box-cutter gripped tightly in the palm of Ronnie’s ready hand he reached into the inside pocket of his black and navy blue suede jacket and pulled out his gun and aimed it at him.

“Don’t make me shoot you, man”, Bruce warned. “We can walk away and pretend this never happened”.

Ronnie was outraged by Bruce’s pomposity because to him he wasn’t shit! “What about Courtney?” Ronnie asked. “Am I supposed to forget what you’ve done to her? And what about Danielle, you’ve raped her haven’t you? You think I’m gonna let you get away with those things. My nieces are just babies. Good children. And you hurt them. And it’s time for you to be hurt”.

Coldly, Bruce uttered, “Well I tried to make a truce”. Then he pulled the trigger. A bullet pierced Ronnie’s throat, killing him instantly. Bruce fled the scene immediately.

city nightsEight year old Eric had accurately caught the incident in his dream as he lay asleep in his bedroom. He was horrified at what he saw and didn’t want to believe that it was something real. He turned on his lamp that stood on the end table beside his bed the moment after he witnessed his Uncle Ronnie falling to the ground. He stared at his reddish-brown bedroom walls that were trimmed in white, trying to get the location of the murder out of his head. Walton Road kept on flashing before his dark brown eyes along with 109th street. Right then and there he knew there was no turning back. He had too much information. And the murderer would soon be returning back to his apartment. Eric didn’t want Bruce to get away with Killing Ronnie but if he opened up his mouth at the wrong time Bruce surely wouldn’t hesitate to kill him too. So for the time being Eric planned on carrying the burden of truth around with him for as long as it was necessary.

 

“What chama call it?!”

“What chama call it?!”

beer and barrelMy late grandmother (My mother’s mother) loved herself some beer preferably Miller High Life before she graduated on to Budweiser. She drank beer all the way up until the time that she passed away and here is an excerpt from my book that was written back in 1998 and then published in 2001 in a chapter about an incident involving my grandmother:

“Ass” was Charlene’s favorite word. Everybody was an ass as far as she was concerned. Her second cousin Francine came from the Bronx to visit one spring. She brought her nephew Mack along. Even though Charlene had known Francine all her life she was just now meeting Mack.

While Penny accompanied her mother’s cousin to the store Charlene was scheming.

“Hey, come get this for me”.

“Get what?” Mack asked.

“My can of beer”, she pointed toward the dining room. “Hurry up before they come back”.

Mack left the living room puzzled. He wasn’t aware of Charlene’s plot. Because of her illness she wasn’t allowed to drink alcoholic beverages. Their effects could result in another stroke. Regardless of the risk Charlene continued drinking. If someone came to the house she wanted them to buy her a beer. Many found this annoying.

A few friends of Penny’s complained, “Every time I come here she asks for a beer!” If Charlene couldn’t get it from a visitor Terri would go buy one.

beerOn this particular day, a can of Miller High Life was hidden somewhere in the dining room. She often did this hoping Penny wouldn’t catch her.

“Where is it?” Mack asked.

“It’s under the What chama cal it!” Due to frequent memory loss Charlene was at times unable to express words, often uttering “What chama cal it”.

Mack was even more puzzled and asked, “What’s that?”

Charlene pointed again and said, “Under the What chama cal it!”

Mack’s bewilderment was obvious by his facial expression. He went over to where she was pointing and knelt down.

Charlene sighed, expressing impatience. Hearing the sound of her breath expelling, Mack knew it was a sure sign of disappointment.

Rudely Charlene exclaimed, “It’s over there asshole!”