Bye Bye People

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Forget all ya’ll. I’m through with everybody. I’m sick of looking at devils. Black people are hopeless. At least everyone I know. Allah chose us to be His people but I don’t know any who aren’t in love with the enemy and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m never going to meet any so I’m officially giving up on The Black Nation.

Allah is The Only One Who Can Save You.

You have the book. You have everything. You don’t need me.

I quit.

I’m going to spend the rest of my days looking at kittens and squirrels, birds and insects. They never disappoint. I’m through with people. Ya’ll can all burn in hell.

****UPDATE **** UPDATE **** UPDATE **** UPDATE****

Man. Now I know why Master Fard Muhammad, to Whom Praises are due forever chose the poor, the rejected (just like I rejected you all yesterday SMH) the despised (just like I unwittingly despised you all yesterday SMH) So-Called American Negroes to be HIS PEOPLE.

You are the most wonderful, amazing people in the history of the world and I still love you.

I learned the hard way that people live in houses and squirrels live in trees (which although we can use them temporarily for shade and shelter from rain are not viable housing solutions for people) and kittens live UNDER houses which I contemplated but I wear nothing but white in public now and I hate being dirty. Even if I crawl out and take showers once a day I would just get dirty again as soon as I crawl back under, so I went back to the man I once thought was so amazing.

He lied to me and I’ve been lied to all my life! So when it comes to lies I’m like that Mexican guy in “Next Friday” was with locked doors. “NO MORE LOCKED DOORS!” LOL Even MY NAME was a lie!!! So now, I’m like that with lies.

NO MORE LIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And he doesn’t understand. He wants me to just forget it and I can’t. I haven’t tried to because I know if I forget it and try to act like everything’s okay, he’ll just lie again and I’ll end up looking stupid and that is the worst thing I could be mistaken for. Stupid. So I can’t. I’ve been with a liar before and it never works. So I know it will never work with him unless he admits it. I was willing to work with him but he doesn’t want to work with me. Not the way that will make it work with me. I can’t trust him anymore. You got ONE TIME (like the LAPD LOL) to lie to me. But I love him like a Brother and really wanted the relationship to work so I told him exactly how I felt. I opened up and told him the truth and poured my heart out to him. I really liked him.

But it keeps coming up because he won’t admit it.

I don’t even care about the lie. Never did. It’s the principal. Just the fact that he lied to me hurts. I feel like he doesn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. I don’t know why he felt that he had to lie to me. I’m a good person and I feel like crying just thinking about it. It hurts. I liked him and he is too proud to admit that he got caught in a lie.

Then he turns it around and tries to make it my fault! And one of the worst things you can do to me is play with my head. That’s all a lie is. Playing with my head like I’m crazy and I’m already fragile mentally so when you try and make me think I don’t know what I’m thinking and knowing is the truth is playing with my head and trying to MAKE me crazier.

Truth is the MOST IMPORTANT thing. Allah is the AUTHOR OF TRUTH and we are His People. We have to be like HIM. We have to be one thousand per cent truthful. The devils have ruled this world under falsehood so now I can’t stand falsehood with a passion. More than anything else on this Earth I hate a liar. I even love a murderer before I love a liar. Sometimes people deserve to be murdered but nobody deserves to be lied to. I don’t even like surprises. Tell me straight up. Because if you have to lie when I find out you lied it ruins the surprise. I don’t care what it is. Don’t lie to me under ANY circumstances. Surprise me with TRUTH! I am really starting to love coincidences. They are natural surprises and are always pleasant. I’m getting used to them now.

So to make a long story short. I was having a difficult time living under his roof. He lied and I knew it so everything I did was wrong. He gave me no peace. All I wanted to do was color my Dr. McStuffins, listen to my music and my Messenger (PBUH) and watch the kittens, and birds and my spider (Shelby), an occasional dragonfly and the butterflies and just enjoy being in Nawlins in peace.

But he wanted it to be like it was before all lovey-dovey, but not with a lie undermining everything. I couldn’t trust him/believe anything he said. And I couldn’t help it. I was doublechecking everything he said and did and he would just get mad. But I just couldn’t help it. I didn’t believe nor trust him unintentionally. Men are supposed to control their woman and I need to be controlled, I admit, but not by a liar.

I just want a roof over my head and my Black people came through like thoroughbreds (slang).

He had locked the door so I knew I was going to have a hard time once I got in. And I have too much self-respect to knock. He was wrong and today tried to make me crazy by telling me he knows he’s right. See what I’m saying?

But, I digress. I walked to the store to get something to eat because I didn’t even feel comfortable fixing food at his house. I don’t eat but one meal a day and had bought food for us. I learned that a woman is not supposed to be the provider. Men eat too much. When it came time for me to eat, he had eaten up all the food. That made me feel stupid for buying it. He was providing shelter but that’s not enough. He has no car either which I learned today is rather important.

I bought some chocolate chip cookies and A.J. 😉 I started to buy some bread and cream cheese for nourishment but I needed some feel-good, pick-me-up food. As soon as I was about to open into the cookies a cargo van pulls up and the Brother inquired about my well-being.

I told him I was okay, then I recognized him from the Drum Circle. I had seen him a couple times before and he has a little boy and I love the beautiful Black babies so I took a special interest in him. I had seen him earlier at Armstrong Park.

So, I told him I just wanted to watch the squirrels and the kittens and he said he was on his way to deliver some hibiscus drinks he produces and I asked, “Can I roll with you?” He obliged and he took me to another Black entrepreneur and we talked about how to get more Brothers into entrepreneurship locally.

I never realized how easy we have it in L.A. We have downtown where you can buy everything wholesale but they don’t have that anywhere else except NYC, I believe. So we chopped it up and he said there were some incense and oils spots, which is always good, but T-shirts and socks (which is my favorite thing to tell Brothers to start out with) you have to buy online wholesale.

You know I’ve been homeless so I feel for Brothers who want to be entrepreneurs but have no mailing address to ship to so if you can offer any suggestions on how they can be business owners please drop a comment off below, In sha Allah. Shukran.

So, I thought he wanted to take me home. I know I’m a desirable woman for any intelligent man, so I offered to let him take care of me. But he said No. So by then my pride had withered down to nothingness and I resigned myself to knock on the life-controller’s front door.

He didn’t answer so I asked Tyrone – the entrepreneur, if I could use his car charger to charge my iphone so I could call the life-controlling liar. We were in the middle of this exchange when he finally opened the door.

I went in and walked past my room onto the service porch. I sat down and grateful to be inside, exhaled. I don’t know why they don’t redesign these houses because there is absolutely no privacy. You have to go through every room in the house just to get to the bathroom. LITERALLY. I’m glad I’m not a teenager. It would drive me crazy.

So, as soon as I finish thanking Allah for giving me a place to stay, here he comes, slamming the back door talking about mosquitos and if I don’t like it I could leave.

I DIDN’T LIKE IT. So that’s what I did.

I had seen Mrs. Marion’s grandson yesterday and he told me he would be back at ten and he had a couch I could sleep on.

I figured at least he hadn’t lied to me so I would give him a chance to take care of me.

It was nine so I headed over to the Treme’ and thoroughly enjoyed the stars and cats and totally ignored the people. I was still mad at cha’ll. I stuck my tongue out at a Brother who was standing at this house where I had met another Brother who was in love with devils. (I’m in the house right next door now LOL)

So, I made it back to the Treme’ where he lived and sat on the bench outside his house. It is very common for people to have benches outside their houses here. They still congregate on the front porch like we used to do in L.A. back in the day. No one does that there anymore, (because of stray bullets from drive-bys probably) which is one of the reasons why I’m still here. I love New Orleans (I got some fleur de lis [the Saints symbol] gold earrings finally 😀 ) and when I was ready to give up they show me how much they love me.

So, he comes and gets in my face (lovingly) talking about how Mrs. Marion told him something about two mountains will never meet but two people always will.

His electricity was out and he had no running water but he was still generous and humble enough to offer what he did have – a couch to keep me inside and not in Armstrong Park which is where I had thought about going. I’ve slept on the bench there before but it’s not completely safe. I probably would have stayed up all night waiting on the Sunrise and the squirrels to wake up. That’s why I like kittens and cats. They’re nocturnal like me. And they get the most active at night and in the early morning while everybody except me is still asleep.

That is the most peaceful time. I thrive in it. Nobody’s even on Facebook except Africans LOL. All in my DM. Is that right, Hakim? LOL SMH

So, I woke up this morning and he’s getting ready for work. I thought I had found another place to live but he said No. So, I did not want to go back to the life-controller and started walking in the direction of Uptown. There’s always something to do Uptown. I really had a lot of options for my day. I could have gone a couple places to take a shower or sat in Armstrong Park and watched the squirrels and ducks and listened to the fountain. I absolutely love the sound of flowing water. In Arabic, it’s called Hadira. I love it so much I know how to say it in Arabic. (smile)

So, as I was walking I saw a dollar on the ground. I didn’t want the devils around to see me bend down like I was bowing down to them so I waited until they had gotten away and picked it up. I had no dollar bills. I have a quarter and I believe two dimes in my purse. But I haven’t carried any cash all month. I always give it away in charity so I’ve been using plastic.

After I found the dollar, I figured I might as well go back to life-controller because the bottom line is, I didn’t have anywhere to go tonight either and I knew he would let me stay if I needed to.

I knew he had packed all my stuff up because when I moved in he had packed up the previous Sister’s stuff. But I didn’t want to be homeless. It’s hard to be completely clean when you’re homeless. Food is easy. And you can sleep on a bench. But try and find a shower. And I’m Muslim. We HAVE to bathe or the equivalent daily not to mention the ablution we do before our five daily prayers. Which I haven’t been doing. I have prayer beads and have been doing meditation instead.

But I’m not your average Muslim.

So, I’m enjoying the fresh new day. I even saw my bird. I named him Jay Bird after Jamal. And sat down and let him serenade me in the morning light. Then I resumed my walk and passed by this high school I’ve passed on several occasions and it was 7:30 but there was not a child in sight! That creeped me out! I was staring into the school completely perplexed and I see this Sister whom I had asked to pass out my fliers yesterday before I gave up on people.

I still wasn’t completely forgiving of you all yet so I was going to just keep on walking but if I had done that to Mrs. Marion’s grandson yesterday I would have been sleeping on a bench. So, I waited.

She told me the school was closed. She didn’t let me get all emotional, you know how I am when it comes to our future. She said she would walk with me and I liked her. She’s me in another life and we hit it off. She confessed that she’s an alcoholic but everybody in New Orleans is an alcoholic. LOL She said she was having stomach pains/withdrawal symptoms. So I told her try eating one meal a day and don’t eat meat and whatnot and I mentioned that I didn’t have anyplace to stay and if she didn’t offer me her home!

Allah is so Infinitely Wise. Black People in America are the most generous people I’ve ever encountered. I can’t stay mad at ya’ll. And yesterday I was through with you. As much as I love you, I was really finish.

I even decided to stop handing out fliers. I was going to throw them in the water but I didn’t want to mess it up for the ducks and pelicans. They never piss me off.

 So, why was I about to walk to life-controller’s house to get the rest of my stuff and he’s walking right there at the intersection. I told him I wanted to get my stuff. And we talked. We really mix well and I love walking and being in the company of a controlling strong Blackman but he lied and I can’t. At least not unless Andrea throws me out. LOL

Then I’ll be back at ONE. But the bottom line is, I have a roof over my head and a place to stay at least until I can get my own place, In sha Allah. Hopefully by next month!

NYC or Bust

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

backtoschoolinvite

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Brothers and Sisters

Well, the plan is to go to NYC again next month. This time I’m going to say In sha Allah because this month I didn’t make it. Allah Had other plans for me. He is the Best Knower and The Best Planner and to Him I submit.

I really want to see the birthplace of Hip-Hop. If it’s anything like the birthplace of Jazz, I know I’m going to love it. I can’t wait.

Hip-Hop was born August 11 of 1973 at 1520 Sedgwick in the Bronx.

DJ Kool Herc, a Jamaica native learned that there is a portion of every dance song that most consider the “get down part” when everybody started really getting into the song. He figured out a way to make that part repeat since it was the best part, thus keeping the people dancing.

His friend Coke La Rock got on the microphone and began rapping over the “get down part” better known as the “BREAK” and Hip-Hop was born.

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I heard KRS-One say that every B-Boy and B-Girl who love and live Hip-Hop have to make a “pilgrimage” to the birthplace of our culture, so since the shoe fits, I’m going to wear it and make my “hajj” next month, if it pleases Allah.

I can’t wait to come back and I haven’t even left yet. I’ll probably change my mind and not go anywhere. Zawji wants to take me from somebody. That’s the only way he could get me to sit still and here I am talking seriously about going to NYC.

He lets me think I could even just go visit for a few days and return but I think he’s just fooling me. I’m not going anywhere. I mean New Orleans is the best city I’ve ever been to. And I was on his Twitter and he retweeted somebody’s post about how people from L.A. never relocate.

Apparently, I have. I keep hearing his voice saying, “You’ll be back.” Yeah, but for how long?

STRAIGHT OUTTA BOMPTON

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

nwa

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Asiatic Black Members of the Aboriginal Asiatic Black Nation of the Planet Earth

You know I have a big mouth, right? I mean I was born three days after Pac! So, naturally I put my foot in it at times and unfortunately, it’s usually in proportion to the size of my mouth.

So, when I heard about this movie coming out (and I found out when they were still in the audition process due to one of my childhood friends being an actress) I started downtalking it about as soon as I heard.

I believe my exact words were, “Yeah right, I really want my son auditioning for a movie about the group that ruined hip-hop.” I’m sure I added something about their filthy mouths and the degradation of women also.

But I just saw the movie and I really enjoyed it. Albeit I had to cast my eyes in another direction on more than one occasion. I mean, I’m from L.A. and I’ve been to countless pool parties and parties in general (no hotel parties), but it hurts to see my Sisters degrade themselves. It is no wonder our Brothers refer to us as hoes. The way we belittle ourselves to the point of embarrassment just to be associated with a famous person or persons or money or opportunity or whatever is disgraceful. All I can do is shake my head and pray Allah we reclaim our dignity and self-respect before the whiteman is destroyed, lest we become deserving of hellfire as they are.

So, I told my son he could watch the movie but just show some decency and intelligence and cast his eyes in another direction as should you when they get to those parts, which although they may be historically accurate, could have easily been alluded to rather than openly displayed in the interest of good taste.

But, I digress. I continued to badmouth the film from pre-production to filming through post-production, screening and actually up until today when I actually saw the movie. Which I made it a point to see only because my Zawji in His monumental wisdom, said it was a “must see.” So when I saw it was airing on HBO tonight, I made the effort to stay up and watch.

I know he said that for me.

Although my family left Bompton when I was still very young, I have definitive memories of our time there that will remain with me for the rest of my life. One event in particular made me the hardcore woman that I am today.

There was a park or some kind of field down the street from our house and one day there was an event there. I remember running for my life, although I wasn’t conscious enough to be afraid, but I was running nevertheless, as was everyone else. I remember an older cousin picking me up and continuing to run with me in his arms. That’s all I remember. I don’t remember getting home or what happened afterwards, but I’m sure it was that event, at such a young age, that made me so intrepid in the other shootouts I’ve been involved in.

I’ve heard people from other states talk about how fearful they are of L.A. and I could never understand WHY. After seeing this movie, I understand. I mean, it almost made ME afraid. LOL But it’s really not that bad. Seriously. I mean, the school bus scene was off the hook. That was the most gangsta thing I’ve ever seen in my life. B-Dogs don’t play.

And it was dope because I KNEW the actors were all from L.A., not like Cuba in Boyz in the Hood. These were O.G.s. I mean, you CANNOT fake an L.A. accent.

Anyway, I happened to be in Leimert Park, the day they were filming there. (I mean, I was always in Leimert so it was only natural) I got to practically have lunch with the Brother who played E and he was so cool. If I had known what a good actor he was then, I might have asked for an autograph. LOL j/k I haven’t asked for an autograph since I saw Luther Vandross at the Beverly Center and he waved me off and said, “Please don’t bother me with that now!” I must’ve been about eleven or twelve and he really hurt my feelings. But that’s not why I don’t ask for autographs. I got Bobby Brown’s at the same place but I never knew what to do with it. So now, I’m like what for??? :/

But I was still downtalking this movie about the group that I still believe RUINED Hip-Hop so badly that it still has not recovered. I mean Wiz Khalifa was on the NBA on tour tonight, exactly thirty years later, basically talking about the same things. Whereas BEFORE NWA, you might hear one or, at the most, two curse words in a song. And if it was live, like Run DMC’s “Here We Go“, the audience would go “Ooooh” or something because it was a rebellious thing to do. Here comes NWA, Straight outta Bompton, and their whole album is nothing BUT cursing! There’s just something about the West Coast. We leave an indelible mark on things and they are never the same. So, when I met the Brother who played E (let me Google his name, I mean, that’s the least I can do… Jason Mitchell), I mean it was cool – he was hella cool. I mean his jheri curl looked like a wig, but in the movie it was believable.

The company that was in charge of the audio was Black-owned and I struck up a conversation with the owner and he walked me into where everybody was having lunch. He gave me a laminate and I walked past security and got to eat and walk around the set like I was a part of the production. Everybody else behind the scenes, except makeup and wardrobe, were devils. The audio Brother’s wife was a devil. But I gave him my website for him and his daughter.

I also got to meet the actress who played Dre’s mother. She was surprisingly good in the movie too. I mean, when I met her she just seemed like a cool Black lady. I was not expecting the passionate actress I saw in the movie. Mad props to G. Anyway, I gave her my website and told her please don’t tell the real Dr. Dre that I was using his house for my website cover photo at the time. 😉 LOL I had heard he was on set. His house is the bomb. Let me see if I can find that picture. BRB Are those SOLAR PANELS?  😉 

Tom Brady and Gisele Bundchen put their new Brentwood mansion up for sale at a staggering $50 million! LA

So, the movie comes out and I start saying I’m scared to see it because I thought I might be IN it. I wasn’t. But Sir Jinx was and that Brother tried to talk to me LOL during the Lench Mob days. We went to their studio. I’m trying to think of what they used to call it. I wanna say the Dungeon but that’s Outkast’s people or the Batcave or something like that. Let me Google it. I know it was something dark and dismal sounding. BRB I can’t find it. Maybe I’m tripping and it was just called The Lench Mob. But for some reason I don’t think so. Oh well, I’ve wasted enough brain cells thinking about it. All I remember was it was this plain building painted all black on the outside.  But anyway, all he had seen was a picture of me that I didn’t even like and I kinda knew what he looked like because I had seen him in Oshea’s videos but I went anyway and let’s just say, he wasn’t my type.

I mean Raekwon from Wu tried to talk to me too, but I’m not a golddigger. You have to be CUTE and have money. But RIGHTEOUSNESS IS PARAMOUNT. My Zawji is all three AND MAKES ME LAUGH TOO so I’m Gucci.

*Update – It was called STREET KNOWLEDGE. So much for dark and dismal… :/

But anyway, Cube, Dre and G shut my big mouth and I’m that annoying girl that always beats the boys at everything, but ya’ll did your thug thizzle. The acting was superb (due in no small part to the director) the storyline was tight even though I could tell some of it was made up just for the movie. I heard Ren said it was about 80 per cent true. The main parts that irked me were the staged cop scenes. I mean, I know LAPD are jerks but it just seemed so “staged.” Cube leaving when all those pigs were right there seemed kind of silly to me. Like he was just egging them on. Then again, I just did the same thing a few weeks ago, so maybe not. :/

But I was really impressed with the actor who played E. Anybody who knows me knows I am a B-Girl to the bone and my favorite emcee is the GOAT – Rakim Allah, so when little bitty Eric Wright came out with his high-pitched voice I did not like him. Still don’t as an emcee. But the actor who portrayed him in the movie made me appreciate him as a savvy business man. He just got tricked by the devil, by not having the Knowledge of Self, God or the devil. Read Message To The Blackman In America so the same thing doesn’t happen to you. Let me just tell you this: Don’t trust ANY of them (white devil Caucasians) NONE of them.

I’m glad the movie confirmed my opinion by showing his lack of skills early on.

I did finally feel some sympathy for his having died of AIDS, once again, due to the superior acting skills of Mr. Mitchell.

I wish they had made it known that Oshea is NOT from Bompton but rather South Central. Those from his neighborhood know, but the laity falsely believe he is STRAIGHT OUTTA COMPTON as he has led them to believe. He’s like the opposite of me – From L.A. claiming Bompton and I’m from Bompton claiming L.A.

I was skeptical about his son playing him. He’s light-skinned so I didn’t know how convincing he would be. But he has his exact same features and he sounds almost exactly like him. He was so adorable. I don’t think anybody else would have manifested such a likeness. He’s hard too, which I wasn’t expecting. I mean Cube is clearly out of the hood but success apparently hasn’t changed him because he obviously instilled it (the hood) in his son. He’s not corny and I was pleasantly surprised. Good job, Jr. The acting was excellent from start to finish and I know it was because of the talents of the director. You’ve made me proud to be from SOULA, G. Salute.

The whole movie brought back a lot of memories for me. Like I kind of missed it but I think G said he was Greg Mack from KDAY. That felt hella good because KDAY was the first radio station in the country to adopt an all hip-hop format. And I remember going to pick up tickets for concerts we had won at their studio on Crenshaw. *sigh* Bittersweet Memories….

Seeing all those Suzuki Samurais brought back memories too because I had wanted one. I ended up getting a Sidekick though. I wonder where they dug up all those old Nissan trucks that all the boys had. The Low-riders are still an every Sunday thing. *sigh*

I miss home.

Zawji’s Doppelgänger

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Well, I’m still single.

Every year, on Zawji’s birthday, I hope it’s the day.

But it’s over and no word from him.

I did get some good news, which I had been hoping for for years. And, I think it’s notable that the news arrived on his birthday.

Our favorite emcee reunited with his DJ after nineteen years of being estranged. Which was good news. I only hope it’s not a hoax.

I spent the day searching for a restaurant in New Orleans that served any fish other than the pig of the sea and its cousin – catfish and tilapia. We walked from the Seventh ward to the ninth ward and back, passing by (as they say in NOLA) about six or seven restaurants and finally, the last one we found before returning home sold trout.

I was forewarned that New Orleanians live off of that filthy fish but I was still unprepared to learn that that was the ONLY fish they eat. I mean EVERY restaurant I asked what kind of fish they served and the answer was always that pig. AND ONLY that pig. I had never heard of such a thing.

In the Quotah and L.A., you can get salmon and snapper and, in NOLA, a new fish to me, redfish.

But, I’m avoiding writing about what’s really on my mind.

I feel so trepidatious (I’ve started making up words. English is lacking in allowing me to be able to express how I feel sometimes) about the situation I’m in. I mean, I know this is where Allah and my Zawji want me to be. I can just feel it but I know I’m being tested.

And the uncertainty about how long I’m going to be in this situation has me on edge.

I LOVE New Orleans beyond description and I’m infinitely blessed to be in this situation.

I have a benefactor and all I have to do is enjoy life. But, he’s a man and my Zawji’s doppelganger so naturally there is an attraction.

I KNOW that my Zawji is the ONLY man on Earth or in the Heavens above the Earth that I was meant to spend my life with.

In Islam, the Holy Quran teaches us that when we are born, we are one-half of a soul (Nafis). Therefore, there is only one person that can be the other half of our soul. And, I am inexplicably fortunate to have been informed, by Allah, of whom the other half of my soul is.

But this life can be extremely complicated and I know there are several, probably infinite dimensions. I am in the process of perfecting myself to join my Zawji in the Nation of Islam dimension which is one hundred per cent Right and Exact.

In this dimension in which I currently live, he is not living the life of a righteous Muslim, and my benefactor, is the equivalent to what it would be like to live with Zawji in this dimension, which is why I am with him now.

The Holy Qur-an teaches us that ALLAH is our Rabb which translates to “Nourisher unto perfection.” He refines us and nourishes us until we reach perfection. It comes in degrees and right now I’m at a degree where I’m learning how to be with my Zawji in a perfect world and I can’t do it by myself. I’ve reached perfection by myself, now I have to learn how to be perfect with my Nafis and this Brother is a step on the ladder up to perfection.

We mix extremely well, but I can feel that it is only temporary. I mean, I have never gotten along so well with a Brother. ANY Brother. Except Zawji, of course, but it’s different now because I’m conscious of it.

He kissed me and discomfitted me so much, because I felt something. When I was in the A and “hooked up” with one of Zawji’s doppelganger’s doppelgangers, I didn’t feel anything except the longing for Zawji.

It’s different this time because he is actually Zawji’s doppelganger and not a doppelganger’s doppelganger. For example, Method Man is my Zawji’s doppelganger and I’ve hooked up with one of Method Man’s doppelgangers and didn’t feel anything. Busta Rhymes too. I like both of them but didn’t feel anything because they were a degree away from being an actual doppelganger.

But this brother is an actual Zawji doppelganger and it’s making me uncomfortable because I’ve never been in this situation before.

I know Zawji is testing me before he takes me back. So, that makes it easier to resist him. Because I know. I have a secret weapon to stay chaste. I’m not going to give it away though because that will make it lose its power, I think.

It helps that I’m a Muslimah. Al Hamdulillah.

I know he’s not the one, so I’m not kidding myself. I’m just “riding it out” which has become my new mantra. Just trying to make the best of my situation. I mean, really, I’m blessed. All I, literally, have to do is just enjoy New Orleans and play house with a wonderful man in a wonderful city with wonderful people until my Zawji comes to collect me.

It’s been two days.

I’ve been in a close situation with a Zawji doppel before where I felt like I missed out on getting married, but A. he wasn’t Zawji and B. Allah Knows where I am. So, I don’t really feel like I messed up by not going to Miami.

I’ve always been a busy body and sitting in one place is particularly difficult for me. I’m a go-getter and I’m learning how to wait. Hakim (my son) used to call me “Impatientifah” when my name was Latifah LOL but seriously, patience is something I’m desperately trying to cultivate.

My former greatest fear was turning hypocrite like Malcolm. And, our Beloved Messenger (May the peace and the blessings of Allah forever be upon him) taught us that his sin was impatience (not waiting for Allah and acting when HE wanted to act) so I am REALLY trying to learn from his mistakes.

I already decided that when I do put down roots, I want it to be in NOLA, but not with this Brother, so I can’t put them down just yet. I’m just getting a taste of it now. I’m not kidding myself, I know this is not going to last, so in contrast to how it will be when I finally marry Zawji, I won’t have to have a Plan B.

Man, I am really paying for eating all of that heavily fried fish. I can’t remember the last time I had fried anything. Our Beloved Messenger (Peace Be Upon Him) Taught us in How To Eat To Live not to fry our food. So, it has to have been at least five years or more since I’ve had fried food and I am experiencing acid reflux to the point where I can’t even sleep. It’s four o’clock, almost time to get up and I’ve been up all night.

I can’t relax in general, for fear of getting too comfortable and falling into temptation. I don’t know how long I can do this. I know Zawji wants to sweep me off my feet and swoop in and burn some other man. I know this Brother can handle it though, it seems as if he already knows. I mean, I keep Zawji’s picture close at hand at all times. But…

It’s been two days…

 

Zawji’s Birthday 2016

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Ma Bebies!

OMG! My life is so amazing.

Let me go back to the day I was hospitalized.

Ever since 2014 when I first became homeless, I’ve been meeting Brothers who are my Zawji’s doppelgangers. We connect on one level or another but I can never hook up with them because they are not him. However, I know that his desire is to take me away from someone. I’ve been vehemently opposed to this plan but he and Allah are the Best Planners and despite my opposition I have finally “hooked up” with one of his most attractive and sweet doppelgangers. It is going to be interesting to see how this plays out. Especially considering tomorrow is a special day. Allah, Master Fard Muhammad, to Whom Praises are due forever, plans monumental events to occur on specific dates.

For instance, he timed the day of His Coming to deliver us to coincide with our slavemasters’ biggest day of celebrating – July 4. Another example is the date of the passing of our Beloved Messenger – the day before Saviour’s Day – February 25.

So, despite the fact that in The Nation of Islam we do not celebrate birthdays, there is a special significance to dates.

Tomorrow is my Zawji’s birthday.

I was discharged from the hospital earlier today and had no idea what Allah Had Planned for me.

On the day I came to the hospital, I was experiencing some strong spiritual warfare from the place and people where I lived. I was literally driven out of the house in the wee hours of the morning.

I had been, for about two weeks, rising up before sunrise (as is customary for Muslims) and after making Salat (prayer), I would sit outside my house and view the Shurook (sunrise). This particular day, my roommates decided to come outside and disrupt my revelrie.

I was not able to sit out and enjoy the Shurook, undisturbed, as I had been doing for weeks.

I ended up in the parking lot of the neighboring CVS and just walking around in my own world.

Medications are probably a billion dollar industry in America and I watched, as I have on many occasions, the huge 18 wheeler truck come and deliver boxes and boxes of medication to the CVS.

Then I watched, as I have every morning, the smaller truck deliver boxes and boxes of alcoholic beverages.

This really disturbed me. America is so wicked, adults think they are not living unless they smoke and drink. Everyone in America takes some type of drug. Whether it is pharmaceutical, alcoholic, narcotic, carcinogenic, marijuana, meth, vapes or whatnot. Life in America is so hard to take that one must drink or smoke just in order to cope.

Why not get high on life – Just LIVING!?!?!? I am probably the ONLY person I know who does not smoke or drink. But I have psychotic episodes that leave me hospitalized where  I am FORCED to take antispychotic medications, against my will.

Allah is justified in bringing about an end to wicked America where drugs and drinking are the order of the day and one is hard-pressed to live without them.

But I digress.

This alcohol truck was making its daily delivery and something drew me into the store.

I am the person who is known for taking the road less traveled. And I was drawn to an emergency exit in the back which I used to exit the store. No alarm went off but I found myself on the outside of the store and there I saw a Brother whom I had seen just prior to my entering the store.

As usual, when I see one of my Zawji’s doppelgangers, I began following him.

He went into the Family Dollar across the street and asked me to watch his backpack, which the store manager told him he had to leave in the front of the store. I willingly obliged.

He made his purchases and we left. I followed him to his house. He dropped off his purchases and we began conversing.

He told me he was headed uptown and I said, “Let’s go.”

We walked through beautiful historic New Orleans, through Louis Armstrong Park and took a rest at the main Library, where several people were waiting for it to open.

I was nervous because I had stolen a book there that was not even supposed to be checked out and was afraid that I was going to be detained.

However, we entered the library. He relieved himself and we exited uneventfully.

We continued our trek from downtown to uptown and reached a destination under the freeway where he positioned a crate and provided me with a cushion to sit on while he began panhandling. I watched his form and became more and more enamored. When I noticed him becoming fatigued, I took the sign and gave him the seat.

I immediately, handed over every donation of food or money and when he gave the signal, we resumed our trek deeper into uptown New Orleans.

We reached a location where there were more people panhandling and he began a conversation with one of the Brothers sitting on the sideline. I am still enamored with the New Orleans accent and I like to just earhustle. But sometimes I actually listen to the topic of the conversation.

Apparently, the Brother with whom he was conversing, was being shorted on his opportunity to panhandle. He was next in line, but the white devil woman who was currently panhandling was not giving him his turn. I went and said something to her and he was able to have his turn.

I bet you didn’t know conditions in America were so bad that people have to wait in line to panhandle!

So, anyway, we took turns there too.

But, I was a little too enthusiastic and got caught up tapping on people’s car windows, despite warnings not to do so.

I kept thinking of the Aretha Franklin performance of “Til you come back to me” when she say’s “I’m gonna tap on your window pane” and she makes the tapping motion. So, I kept tapping on people’s windows thinking about one of my musical sheroes.

Next thing I know, I turn around and he’s talking to a police officer sitting in his car. I knew he was talking about me, so I saunter over to the police officer, daring him to take me to jail.

Two more police cars pull up and the officers get out. I gave him a fake social security number but he still found me in the system. We managed to get away with just citations. Of course, I threw mine away. He told me today, he went and they threw it out. I was in the hospital, but I didn’t think the court date would be so soon. It’s only been two weeks. I was just happy to not have to go to jail.

We left after that.

He smokes and if I knew any better I would have left him as soon as I found that out. But I think men need to smoke sometimes, or used to need to smoke to do some spiritual stuff. So, I wasn’t tripping. But we are living in the bright spiritual light of Allah and He Has Done away with all those old practices. We can do the same thing, achieve the same results, without having to smoke. Allahu Akbar! Allah is the Greatest! But he is just a doppel, so I tolerate it.

We walked back through Central City and while we waited for the streetcar, he rolled a blunt. I didn’t trip off of that either.

So, the streetcar comes and we board. This was going to be my maiden voyage on the new streetcar that they just built that takes me right by where I used to live and now where I currently live (his house).

Unfortunately, right when we get to the main highway that the new streetcar was supposed to go down, it went off the track right in the intersection. We ended up having to alight and take the bus. I was able to take it today though!

So we get of the bus and take the short walk to his house and I’ve seen inside these three hundred year old houses before but it never dawned on me that they are actually shotgun houses. I mean I used to think a shotgun house was just a house that you could go from the front door to the backdoor without making any turns. But these houses are a rectangle divided into sections. You literally have to go through every room in the house to get to the back. No hallways. Just straight through everyroom. And I couldn’t take it. You walk in the front door and you’re in the living room. Go through a door and you’re in the bedroom. Next door, his brother’s bedroom, next door, another smaller room, to the right the bathroom, the left, the kitchen and that’s the whole house.

The backyard looks like a forest though. So creepy! But so fun! 😀

Now, you know how much I love New Orleans, and I am immensely blessed to be able to get the real New Orleans experience, living in one of these beautiful, charismatic houses, but I need my privacy and the thought that his Brother could be right there with us, was a bit overwhelming.

So, when his phone rang and he took me on a walk through the neighborhood, we ended up being separated and I told him I would meet him back at the house.

I was sitting on the porch, mentally deliberating, oh wait, I forgot to tell you, we went back to my house and I got all my stuff. I was already packed because, I had planned to move to NYC that day. I had my ticket and everything. But I don’t know if somebody put “roots” on me or what, but for some reason, I decided to stay in NOLA.

So, we got my stuff and took it back to his house.

But while I was waiting for him to meet me back at his house, I got anxious and started walking down the street. I ended up sitting on somebody’s upstairs porch and this incredibly hypnotic Brother and his white friend showed up and coerced me into their car and they took me to the hospital.

I had no idea about my belongings. I had left my wallet (ATM card, ID), my iphone, my laptop, my only other change of clothes, my Holy Qur-an, my Message to the Blackman and my jounal!

So, for the past two weeks, while I was in the hospital, my life was completely in limbo with this amazingly similar to my Zawji, Brother who was in possession of my life.

Fortunately, the hospital said I could use their address to have another ATM card sent to me, just in case, and they had a copy of my ID on file from when I was hospitalized there last year, so I wasn’t really worried.

Worst case scenario,  I would have to hide out in my cubby hole, steal food and just wait for a new card to arrive.

MY plan upon my discharge, was to go back to his house, see if he still had my stuff, get it, go to the library, print out a ticket to Miami and be en route on Zawji’s birthday tomorrow.

Keep in mind, I met Our Saviour, Master Fard Muhammad, on a Greyhound bus on another significant date (February 27), so I was really expectant that something amazing would happen tomorrow.

The hospital said they couldn’t discharge me to an unknown address (I didn’t have his address, I just knew how to get there) so they called a cab to take me to the shelter. Why did the cab driver ask to take my picture? (Happens all the time. So, I obliged 🙂 )

I ended up revisiting the places where we panhandled, looking for him, just in case, he was there and not at home, so I wouldn’t have to backtrack.

And I got to finally see the Convention Center, where all that Hurricane Katrina stuff happened. There is no sign of it there now. That is the only Convention Center I’ve seen except L.A.’s. It was nicer than ours. Newer and bigger, I think. I wanted to see what was on the OTHER side because I knew the river was back there. I walked all the way to the end and saw “Mardi Gras World” but I got a bad feeling about it, (I have a healthy fear of Mardi Gras) so I turned around and went back toward the French Quarter.

I finally got to go to the Riverwalk Mall or whatever it’s called and came up on  some beautiful satin gloves with pearl accents that I really needed because I lost my other ones.

So anyway, here I am with my Zawji’s doppelganger, not knowing what’s in store, but just trying to stay chaste and not make him mad and kick me out. If that happens, I’ll just go to Miami, which was MY original plan anyway.

But I submit to the Will of Allah and I know I’m where He and Zawji Want me.

So, Jamal, my Love, you get your wish.  I couldn’t do it in L.A. because that doppel didn’t have his own place. I need food, clothes and shelter. And I’ve got that with this one, in this beautiful, wonderful, incredibly jazzy city, with so much personality and the best accents in the world! Allahu Akbar!

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum!



Still in NOLA

Bismillahi Rahmani Rahim

As-Salaam ‘Alaikum Ma Bebies!!!

Well, I’m still in NOLA. I bought my ticket to NYC and was scheduled to leave on the the sixth, but Allah (swt) had other plans. I was all set to stay but ended up in the hospital. Which is where I am now.

My life is so up in the air. I don’t have any commitments anywhere, even though I consider New Orleans my new home. I know where I think Allah Wants me to go (Miami) but I never know until it’s time for me to go.

I could stay here, just as easy as I could go somewhere else.

I mean.

I have no responsibilities anywhere.

I wanted to go to NYC because I’ve been there before and I loved it.

I knew Allah Wanted me to go to Miami a long time ago, but I’ve never been there and I was scared. My Zawji went last year, I think, and Allah Always Has Me Follow him, but I can be proud at times and not want to admit that I’m following him. But he’s my husband and I’m supposed to follow him. So, that’s where I’m headed next, I think.

I am sure I’m over my fear now. But sometimes Allah Makes spur of the moment decisions to the point where I may have my ticket, be at the bus depot and He Changes the plan, at least, MY Plan.

But anyway, I just wanted to check in and let my babies know I’m okay and happy and pleased to be where I am right now.

I’m supposed to get out of the hospital in time for my Zawji’s birthday on Saturday.

I’ll check in again, ASAP.

Love you all, and remember to keep Allah First in EVERYTHING you do! Before you make any decision, ASK ALLAH for guidance. Say, “Allah, would you have me do this first or that?” “Allah would you have me go here first or there?” Even simple things like which direction to take to a destination. Always seek Allah’s guidance first and you will be sure to stay on  ال سيرة ال المستقيم  The Straight Path.

In the Name of Allah,

As-Salaam ‘Alaikum,

Your Sister,

Love Allah ❤