Realizations, Resolutions and Resumation

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Beloved Black People

I’m still in “The Big Easy” and loving every minute of it. I had no idea I would love New Orleans this much!

For about the past year, it seemed as if every one I met was from Louisiana.

Allah (God), Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Praises are Forever Due, Speaks to us using signs. So, this, coupled with the fancy I had that my Zawji’s family is from Louisiana, led me to take this journey. (Being an avid lover of Jazz music only added to my desire to fulfill this Wanderlust.)

I went to Vegas in January (after initially planning to go to ATL), and had an incredible feeling that I was not supposed to return to L.A. But I hated the wickedness in Vegas, so I went back.

This trip, I purchased a one-way ticket, knowing Our Saviour and Zawji wanted me to relocate. But while I waited for the bus, I was overcome with the fear that I would run out of money and end up stranded thousands of miles from him, broke and penniless, with no means to return (which is exactly how I am now, LOL 😛 ) So, I bought a return trip ticket.

This morning, I came to some resolutions about this extraordinary life Allah (God) Has Given Me.

Reality #1 – My father is a pervert with whom I can have no contact if I want to have any peace in life.

Reality #2 – My mother is an evil witch.

Reality #3 – (sum of Reality #1 and #2) I am basically an orphan.

Reality #4 – My siblings as well as my blood relatives (with the exception of my son) are trying to steal or prevent me from enjoying the Blessings of Allah (God) which are my Birthright and I MUST cast off and forsake them COMPLETELY lest I help them to ruin me.

Reality #5 – My daughter is working with my enemy to help try and destroy me and the Righteous Nation of Earth (MUSLIMS).

Reality #6 – My Zawji, willingly and knowingly, has me out here alone to fight off predatory men by myself.

Reality #7 – ALLAH IS SUFFICIENT FOR US.

In a seedshell, I am in this wonderfully romantic city (Halle was so right!) experiencing the South for the first time, Coming to grips with reality, Thankful to have a roof over my head and personal security. My ticket home was for the tenth, but someone stole it, which was perfect because I didn’t want it to go to waste.

I had no plans to return to “the other L.A.” It doesn’t feel like home anymore. Leimert is being overrun with devils. DTLA as well. I mean, we can have a house or apt. there, if Zawji pleases, but not for the whole year. Unless he pleases, of course.

THIS LA is absolutely AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The devils are a special kind of stupid though. Any old regular sidewalk devil thinks I am supposed to do what he/she says. :/ Miss me with that old world mentality.

I’m really thinking about settling down here. Really, I have no choice since I have no money and no means of transportation 😉 But the music is a powerful incentive to keep me settled right here.

One night, my Zawji told me to have dinner at this fancy $$$$ restaurant. KNOWING I was flat broke. But I hear and obey. So, I ordered the Red Snapper after they told me they were out of Salmon. That’s another thing about NOLA! They specialize in seafood, and I’m a pescatarian! Mind you, some (a lot) of it is not fit for human digestion, but if you know what to order….. OMG, when I saw that snapper, I wanted to slap the people over at Shabazz (they’re not Muslims anymore anyway). They won’t even BAKE it!

Another reason the food is so good down here is because New Orleans was founded by the French, and to them food is sacrosanct.

Anyway, when the time came to pay, I lied and say I lost my ATM card. It was kind of late and a Sheriff was there. So, the manager asked me what church did I belong to? I was like, Huh? What does that have to do with anything. But I remembered this Underground Rail Road book always listed what society the slave owners belonged to like it was a really big deal. Apparently nothing has changed.

Secret Societies are very prevalent down here too. The Police Department symbol is the Masonic Star and Crescent.

This one has the sword.

I can hardly believe this one.

The Black Business owners are all Masons, everybody else serves the slavemasters. But, really, they’re all slaves, because the Secret Societies were given to the devils.

If they were Muslims, they would know better. They are trying to get me in that stuff, but I have laid ahold to the handle that will not break off (Islam). So, I’m like, Nah.

The devil Illuminati members may as well commit suicide. It’s run by devils (Jews) and their time has been up since 1914. You Black members have a chance. Join on to YOUR OWN KIND – THE RIGHTEOUS NATION OF ISLAM (but shun Louis Fraudacoon) WHILE YOU STILL HAVE TIME.

Anyway, I gave the Sheriff, a fake name, fake SS#, told her I didn’t have any ID and so, of course, I came up clean. But, while I was waiting for the results, I tried to tell this Brother bussing tables about Message To The Blackman. He was too afraid of the devils to even acknowledge my presence.

The Sheriff got all belligerent and tried to tell me to stop talking to him. Pffffffff I talk to whomever I want to talk to. Seriously? You think you can tell me who I can talk to? GTFOHWTBS. She was all possessive, like he was still a bondservant. “See Nigger, he works so he can pay for his food!”

These devils LOVE to see us working for them. THAT’S ALL THEY BROUGHT US OVER HERE FOR IN THE FIRST PLACE!

I met one of my Zawji’s Doppelgangers parking cars for the devils at the hotel I’m stowing away in. He told me he makes more parking cars for the devil (due to their tax-free tips) than he did as a psychologist.

I told him, “Sure, they’ll keep you rich because they know it will prevent you from doing something for your own self and for your own people. They don’t care HOW much it costs to keep you in slavery as long as you remain their slave.” 

Anyway, I stuck to my story, “Devil,” I thought, but I said, “I got money, I just lost my card!”

So, since I had no record 😉 she told me, the owner was going to be lenient and let me go but that it would be nice if I came back the next day with my card and paid.

I didn’t even point out to her dumb ass that, “I told you I LOST my card, Stupid Devil.”

Anyway, on the way out, the piano was beckoning me (almost every building in New Orleans has a piano #birthplaceofjazz ) and so I asked if I could play.

The manager’s face lit up like a neon sign. “You can play?” Hell yeah, Devil. I wouldn’t have asked. :/ So, he was like “Play me a tune and we’ll call it even.” I was like, “Okay, but you have to turn off the music playing in the speakers.” He gave the order but I couldn’t wait. I had been dying to play since I got here. But these so-called Negroes, working security at most of these places, are so afraid of their slave-master’s children that they always say no.

So, I played my favorite song to play. I usually play it at least three times, but A.) They were devils and I felt like a coon, dinner or no. and B.) I want to get paid for my talent. And, sure enough when I finished, the Sheriff said, “That was worth fifty dollars.” And since my dinner was only about forty, I said, “Okay, then you owe me now!”

I would love to get a singing gig out here, but I have to find a spot in the Black Community. I’m staying Downtown and all of the patrons are devils. My “Coon Register” won’t allow me to do that.

But yesterday I went to the hood (9th ward) and did not see ONE devil. ALL BLACK PEOPLE. Unfortunately though, I didn’t see any jazz clubs. Just a strip joint. :/

I can’t do Canal Street or The French Quarter. They’re just like Vegas and yesterday I was thrilled because the bus took me down Basin Street. But Allah (God) (swt) Told me it’s WORSE than Vegas.

So, IDK, ALLAH IS THE BEST KNOWER.

Anyway, they have a lot of KIPP (Knowledge is Power Prep) schools, which are predominantly Black and I have a vested interest in the education of our youth, so I’m going to apply for a job. IKR? Me? And a job? I’m almost like T on “Same Gang” when it comes to a job. #badjoke But, I see too many devils there and when I asked one of the students what he wanted to be when he grew up, he said, “a football player” I knew I had to at least apply. They need me.

I met this Brother who looked just like Ossie Davis. He is a P.I. and I’m really good at this stuff, so I sent him an e-mail.

I really would be like T, before having to work in the service industry slaving for the devils (“I’d rather jack another Brother, watch the gun smoke.“) but I don’t want to go back to jail.

I was walking down Carrolton and passed yet another KIPP Academy. Allah (God) Told me to go closer so I could read the sign on the door. It said, they had moved to another location. Curiousity piquued my interest, so I squeezed through the fence, tried all the doors, finally the last window I tried gave way, and I went in.

Inspirational Quotes covered the halls and walls.

“Don’t count the days….. Make the days count.”   – Muhammad Ali

“Whatever you do, strive to do it so well that no man living and no man dead and no man yet to be born could do it any better.”   – Benjamin E. Mays

Well, the theme of this particular KIPP Academy is “Believe” and there was a wall on the staircase (which, unfortunately the door leading to it was equipped with a silent alarm which I tripped unknowingly :/ ) where the students could leave their own sayings.

So, I’m bawling in the hallway, reading these inspirational, and profound quotes from such ambitious and goal-oriented Black youth, thinking about my own son who is their contemporary, back in L.A., (completely oblivious to the police who were downstairs waiting to take me to jail for trespassing).

One young Brother wrote, “Don’t say the sky is the limit, if there are footprints on the Moon.”

I had a really good time there in that institution of learning though. I found a textbook on Louisiana that kind of filled my thirst for knowledge about this strange and unusual land in which I am such an enthusiastic spectator.

New Orleans is so fascinating! They have “stuff.” Like Mardi Gras, which I am so glad is not until March. I have a healthy, righteous fear of that type of debauchery. I can’t believe there are supposed to be religious reasons behind why the people practice such filth and indecency!

They have the bead thing going on. Allah (swt) told me they symbolize prosperity/wealth and whatnot. The fleur de lis is the bomb because it’s like a symbol that everybody from the city can represent. That’s unity.

I think it’s dope.

The city is surrounded in water. I saw a little frog on someone’s mailbox one morning. Blew my citified mind! Lizards are everywhere. I think I even saw a salamander. It has got to be the abundance of water that feeds the Yoruba/Voodoo spirit down here too.

This one Brother told me, when I first stepped on the scene, that people thought I was a Voodoo Queen. I thought that was “rather unique.” To quote my Zawji. 😉

I’m just thankful I found a place to rest and keep my stuff, other than one of the many abandoned houses left by the Great Flood.

I cry everyday almost (I haven’t today). The awfulness catches you so off guard. I can be walking along and then there’s a ten-story hotel completely destroyed and still in a state of disrepair because of a hurricane that hit TEN YEARS AGO.

Every other house, in certain areas, still has not been repaired and the city looks like ruins. The smell of rotted flesh still wafts by on the passing of a sudden gust of wind. It is beyond words what that storm did to an entire city.

Every time it rains, you can feel the tension. No one says anything; but you can feel it.

People I talk to say they were gone from six months to a year. Their whole lives destroyed. Their whole city destroyed.

I haven’t talked to any of the youth yet. They’re young adults now. I can’t imagine what they went through.

I passed an empty lot a while back, that was fenced off. It was rather big and covered with grass. There was an interesting sculpture and some cement blocks with plaques on them. You already know I trespass, so I went through an opening in the fence and learned that it used to be a school before it was destroyed by Hurricane Katrina.

That’s what really got me to thinking about the impact it had on the children. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have to go past that vacant lot after having been a student at the school that is no more. A constant reminder of Katrina.

The government should have never built a school there in the first place.

It was really an old slave burial ground and they built the school on top of it. Devils have no regard for Black lives. Or deaths.

I bought a phone before making this trip but late one night, I was sitting in a little courtyard (homeless, remember?) enjoying my solitude and here comes my father’s doppelganger disturbing my peace. I threw a metal chair at him.

We started fighting in the street then the Law came and he left. Only to return talking about he couldn’t find his keys. (My father used to offer a reward to whomever could find his keys!)

Allah (God) (swt) Told me to throw my phone at him. “I’ma leave. I’ma leave. Just let me find my keys.”

I was staring in an utter state of incredulity. How can this be? My real father is in L.A. Yet, here is this man, exactly like him. He lifted his shirt, showing me his bare stomach and wiped his brow. I was completely disgusted. He was FLIRTING WITH ME!!!!!! MY FATHER!!!!!!!!!!! I’m nauseous thinking about it. But I threw my phone at him again. Another time and he kept it. But he left for good.

In 1996, when I began my conversion to Islam, Allah (God) To Whom Praises are due forever, started revealing to me old and shameful secrets I had buried deep in my subconscious. They manifested through “psychotic breaks” and my father had me committed to the psych ward, knowing full well what was going on.

He carefully monitored my doctor visits and made sure I stayed on the medication, trying his best to keep his indecent acts hidden. But–All Praise Is due to Allah for the Honorable Elijah Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) whose famous quote is my favorite, “We are Living in the Day and Time wherein the veil of falsehood MUST be removed and the TRUTH MADE MANIFEST.” 

I stayed on the medication for fifteen years. It allowed me to function without episodes or hospitalization but I always knew that there was an underlying reason behind my “mental disorder” and I had every intention of getting to the root cause of it, in the footsteps of my Leader, Teacher and Guide, The Honorable Elijah Muhammad (PBUH).

In 2013, I told my Doctor, I wanted to get off the medication. So, he began a process of weaning me off. Eventually, he showed his true hypocritical colors and Allah (God) (swt) ended his life for mistreating me.

Eight months after I stopped taking my meds, I had, just as I knew I would, an episode.

This time, however, I was in an environment that was conducive to my getting all the way through it. Every other time, my father had called the police. He knew if I was able to get through the “episode” what would happen.

ALL PRAISE IS DUE TO ALLAH. I fully remember him molesting me as a child and am able to, as difficult as it is, face the TRUTH. Allah Does Not Give Us a Burden that is too difficult for us to bear. And, this is extremely difficult.

Knowing he has custody of my son is a source of constant discomfiture for me, but my son has Supreme Wisdom and me and Most Importantly, Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Praises Are Due Forever. He is The BEST PLANNER.

So, I’m here in NOLA fighting this Holy War (ARMAGEDDON) as a Sister Captain. My Grandfather used to call me “Grandma Moses” when I was little. I never knew why until yesterday.

Our Beloved Messenger, The Honorable Elijah Muhammad (May the Peace and the Blessings of Allah Be Upon Him) Taught us that he was the prophet like unto Moses described in Deuteronomy 18:15. Because like Moses, he had to change his people’s religion.

The people of Moses were worshipping Pharaoh and his people. Moses had to teach them of the God of their fathers and turn them back to Islam.

The Honorable Elijah Muhammad (PBUH) had to do the same thing with us – the so-called Negroes. We have been in the white slavemaster’s religion of Christianity and Allah (God) Had to Find Us and Raise Up One From Among Us To Teach Us Of Him and the Religion of Our Fathers – ISLAM.

Most everybody out here is Roman Catholic. I’ve met a Baptist. But everybody else has been Roman Catholic. I’ve never seen Black People wearing rosaries. Every time I see one, I tell them, “That is a righteous Brother they hung on that cross! It is a symbol of MURDER. There is no life for you in a cross symbolizing death. YOU SHOULD RUN FROM THE CROSS!” 

I’m changing their religion, just like Moses and Our Beloved Messenger (PBUT).

The Holy Qur-an says when you get married you get a year off from fighting, if there’s a war going on. Maybe that’s why my Zawji has not proposed yet. Allah maybe wants me to fight still.

I tried yesterday to not go about proselytizing, but I couldn’t do it. I cut down a lot, but not completely. Even today, I asked a Brother if he had read Message To The Blackman and instantly felt like I blew it.

Maybe tomorrow.

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