Category: MY MEMOIRS

CHAPTER SEVEN – “THE STAIRS”

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

So, after graduation from Pasteur, which was horrible because my mom wouldn’t let me celebrate with my friends, who were allegedly with N.E., if I remember correctly.

I had to go out to dinner with “them.” (My family) I cried. I hated/hate my mother.

I wrote that in my diary B.I.T.D. and my father read it and left her. I hate him too. I almost wish they had never hooked up. :/

I am the result of the only pregnancy they planned, so something of good came out of them. Allah is THE BEST PLANNER.

Anyway, I was also upset because ALL of my friends were going to Hamilton High. That’s where I wanted to go soooooooooooo badly. 😥 But I had to go to L.A. I didn’t know ANYBODY who was going there. 😥

But on the first day, I saw some familiar faces.

One of these faces, was this Sister who was in the same Fourth Grade class with me and my Habibi ❤ at Trinity.

We were walking near the rear gate at my school and I saw a Brother. I don’t know what it was about him, but I was immediately intrigued.

I asked Stephanie something I have NEVER asked about any Brother before or since, “WHO IS THAT?“

She casually replied, “Oh, THAT’S A.J.“

I couldn’t believe I didn’t recognize my Honey-Stick! But, I was thinking, “A.J.!?! Hmmph! He Must Think He’s All That.” At Trinity, he was Jamal. I guess he grew up and got cool.

Anyway, we hooked up, of course and became inseparable once more.

 We understand each other like other people will NEVER understand us. When our classmates ripped us apart they called us “LOONEY TUNES” We both love music. I don’t know about the Looney. But, probably to them.

We enjoy things that, it seemed, only certain people (certainly, no one we knew) enjoy together. He gets me and I understand him better than anyone else. I LOVE YOU, HABIBI! ❤ ❤ ❤ 😀

When other people made fun of us individually, we had each other. They used to try and belittle him, in front of me all the time (still do) in a useless attempt to make me stop LOVING HIM. Crumbs. NEVER. GONNA. HAPPEN.

Years later, one night at the club, he was standing near me and my so-called friends. This one was cracking on his suit so badly. I felt sorry for him. But he just acted like he didn’t even hear her. He was just watching the dance group working it out on stage. ( “THE ❤ POSSE” ) So, everybody’s watching the group and my “friend” is continually talking about my Honey-Stick, when next thing we know, he leaps onto the stage, which had to be at least four feet high and finishes the routine with the group – THE STAR OF THE SHOW!!!

(PISSED – NO RAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
(W T F WERE YOU THINKING???!!!!!!!!)

EVERYBODY WAS DUMBSTRUCK, ESPECIALLY MY “FRIEND.” I don’t see how you can still befriend her, Habibi. I blocked her a long time ago. But, I have never been more awestruck in my life! I wouldn’t have believed it if I wasn’t there!

 He is a little older than I am. That’s really no excuse. I never knew that Brothers could be hurt from love. That’s no excuse. It’s true. But it’s no excuse, Sir.

I was fourteen in September, 1985. Only six (6) years after we first met. Seems like much longer. But there we were meeting again for the second time. He was “A.J.” now.

When you’re a teenager, you don’t really take the time to analyze things. Things just happen. You don’t think about why and what could be the result.

I had a journal, of course. I had kept one since I met him and our teacher (Mrs. Bacon, can you believe that? :/ I was shocked to learn there was a Mr. Bacon too) introduced us to composition books. I think I’ve owned one ever since. I have a chartreuse one now. 😀

 I hate when people tell me “No.” or “You’re not supposed to” or “You can’t do” something. I think a little bit more than ordinary people. So, I’m a rebel with a cause but without a pause.

I remember, one day we were on the stairs in this corner of the school that nobody uses.

I didn’t even know they were there. So we could isolate and listen to this little red radio we got from one of my “friends.”

Music has always been a part of our lives. In fourth grade I would write down the lyrics (I don’t know if I used to print them or write in cursive. I guess after I learned how to write in cursive I wrote them in cursive 😀 ) to the Love Songs we had the sheet music to.

I stared taking piano lessons when I was seven (7) but my mom would allow us to go to the music store and buy sheet music for R&B songs as an alternative to the classical. If I had had the notion I would have bought some Ellington.

I saw some of his sheet music for the first time about a month ago and it blew my mind! I didn’t want to stop playing. I had never seen any music written like that in my life. #nowimonamission 😀

So, we were on the stairs (supposed to be in class 😉 I don’t know why everything that’s supposed to be wrong is so RIGHT when we’re together. EVERYTHING!) listening to Patti and Michael. I HATED that song! Now, I know why. Interracial relationships are shameful!

I’m pretty sure this was after I allowed him to be the first man to kiss me. So, there was probably some making out on those stairs. But I had never been more at ease. My Habibi just makes everything right and exact.

So, when this teacher came ambling down the hall towards us, we didn’t even pay him any attention, I didn’t anyway. Until he said those dreaded three words:

“Go To Class.”

FRUIT TREES IN ABUNDANCE

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

images

As-Salaam-Alaikum Beautiful and Beloved Asiatic Black Brothers and Sisters!

I recently made an update on Facebook about planting fruit seeds instead of throwing them away. Well, I think that is something worth preserving 🙂 so I thought it would be good to post a blog about it.

Just think Sisters and Brothers, if every time we ate a piece of fruit, we PLANTED the seeds as opposed to throwing them away! We would have an abundance of fruit in season and within reach at all times!

It is so easy, just take an old spoon or knife and dig a little hole, put it in the ground and cover it up. Water it if you want. But Allah (God) can take it from there.

If you don’t have the wherewithal to plant it, just drop it on some dirt. Drop it in the bushes. It will grow or it might not grow. BUT IT HAS A BETTER CHANCE THAN IF YOU THROW IT AWAY!

I walk alot and I trespass. Sorry. But curiosity is the mother of invention sometimes.

I was walking from Ontario and ended up in some city and can’t even remember the name. But I passed a house and the gate was open and I wanted so badly to see what the backyard looked like, but it wasn’t open enough and I didn’t want to get stuck. So, I didn’t go in the back of that house.

But I passed an even MORE beautiful house and the gate was open, so I went in. I went in the backyard and you could not even see the sky for the trees. There were HAWKS in these trees. But EVERY TREE BORE SOME TYPE OF FRUIT. Oranges. Lemons. Avocados. EVERY TREE. And there had to be at least fifty trees in this one backyard. EVERY TREE BORE FRUIT.

That just opened my eyes and changed my whole perspective.

I continued my walk and I passed houses that had orange trees in the front yard with hundreds of oranges, just there. I picked three or four and ate some juicy, delicious oranges on my walk.

Granted California is optimal land for fruit trees, but I don’t see what harm could come in planting seeds anywhere on the Earth. If Allah Wills, it will grow into a tree, or bush or vine. Just Plant The Seeds.

You will feel so good about yourself. And other people will see and be inspired to do the same! You just planted TWO seeds. One physical and one mental.

The Holy Qur-an uses the parable of the Tree to symbolize A Good Word and Good Deeds. Chapter 14:24, 25 reads, “Seest thou not how Allah sets forth a parable of a good word as a good tree, whose root is firm and whose branches are high,
Yielding its fruit in every season by the permission of its Lord? And Allah sets forth parables for men that they may be mindful.”

The fruits are only the fruits of our own good deeds. They are blessings which are based on our good deeds/words (good trees).

Fruits are some of the BEST foods we can eat. Let’s make them available for ourselves and our progeny. So what if you’re not there to reap the rewards? You will receive blessings in another form. Plant the seed it’s better than throwing it away.

CLOSE TO YOU

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

25935_1360730135671_389964_n

I JUST WANT TO GET IN YOUR PROXIMITY

Clear my Head

Think of You Instead

It’s Been So Long

But I Still See Your

BEAUTIFUL GRIN

STILL FEEL MY CHEEK

NEXT TO YOUR CHEST

LIKE NOTHING ELSE

I’VE EVER FELT

BEING NEAR YOU

IS LIKE MY DREAM

COME TRUE

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

* Check out Satchmo’s socks 😀 #gottaloveit!

FILTHY BROTHERS

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

As-Salaam-Alaikum Dearly Beloved Sisters!

This filthy Brother once had the audacity to say to me,

“I can still see your shape regardless of how much clothes you wear.”

 

20141212_124203

Can you believe that? Filthy. Don’t listen to such affronts, Sisters.

He just wanted me to change my style of dress.

I’ve gotten that before though. This one “conscious” (SMH) Brother tried to argue me down about how, “In the “Motherland” (Africa) our ancestors used to go naked.”

SWEET PEA

I told him, “Those were the ones who had strayed away from CIVILIZATION and are living a JUNGLE life.“

I told him, “The first step in CIVILIZING A SAVAGE is to teach him/her to cover his/her nakedness, Brother.”

He still wanted to argue, but I knew he just wanted to get me to show my nakedness or my form.

You have to know when to walk away. Have you ever had a debate with a five-year-old? It’s like trying to discuss Al Gebra with someone who has yet to learn the Al Fabet. (Both came from us [Black People] / Arabic)

I’m sorry Habibi ❤ , remember when I was going through that thing about how you spell your name – how it’s not transliterally correct? I posted this then, Habibi. Sorry. I Love you ❤ ❤ ❤

CHAPTER SIX – MORE FROM LOUIS PASTEUR

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

zhdrDFhtmHhN1u-gM,9-pmAeUFU5faLj-U0lheGFJNiVlih459hFftPfF3tdxhANfTL96L_cChE_pmB-GHJOPrMGGOHeYqAqCnkotwWJqa8ZCVR0kGGy-cQgDbmGSyr6QYxALTIP4DjjVA5YdIPSMA

Okay, first let me say that the proper pronunciation is “looWEE pastYUUR“. God it? Good! Let’s carry on.

At Pasteur, I wrote my first secular song, with my other clique. I still remember all the words. Anybody with a video on your phone, I would be very pleased if you record me singing my song, si vous plait. 😀 Then again….. it was secular……

Also, there was this little Brother, (My A.J.’s doppel) who could break and the only time I remember being late to class, was because I was watching him dance. He had his cardboard and everything. Me and my homegurl, Kim, would look for him during Nutrition. Fifteen minutes is not nearly long enough. We had just found him, it seemed, when the bell rang.  :/ Homeschool.

“past-YUUR”

SHELLTOES

PUMAS

FAT LACES (PLAID)

HOODIES WITH YOUR NICK-NAME ON THE BACK
(OLD ENGLISH LETTERS, OF COURSE)

STARTER JACKETS

MEMBER’S ONLYs

JELLIES

JORDACHE

POLO SHIRTS
(BUTTONED ALL THE WAY UP
w/a gold chain, of course)

PENNY LOAFERS
(w/a quarter in them 😉 )

BOAT SHOES
(WE WERE PREPPY B.I.T.D., HUH?)

(Substitute chinos/khakis for the jeans and you would have how I dressed my son – when he wasn’t in suits Allahu Akbar!)

GOLF HATS

CATCHING THE 108 TO THE FOX HILLS MALL

PIRATES BASEBALL CAPS

FARRAH FAWCETT FLIPS
PULLED BACK W/THE LITTLE COMB
ON THE SIDE 😉

“I WENT DOWNTOWN
TO SEE JAMES BROWN…..”
(DOUBLE DUTCH)

“HEY, MR. BE”
(Billy Eckstine 😉 )

MIXING FROM OFF THE RADIO
(WITH THE DUAL CASSETTE LOL)

“FRIENDS……”
I HAVE TWO.
ALLAH & MY HABIBI
❤ ❤ ❤

GREG MACK (K-DAY) IS ON THE WAVE NOW
?

WHO KNEW HERBIE HANCOCK (ROCKIT)
WAS A FAMOUS JAZZ MUSICIAN???

WHO KNEW GEORGE CLINTON (ATOMIC DOG)
WAS THE GODFATHER OF FUNK???

FIELD TRIPS TO THE CONVENTION CENTER MUSEUMS

DOUBLE FEATURES AT THE “HARTHON” MALL
LOL
(SO G.H.E.T.T.O.)
But I saw “Breakin'” there! AND “The Last Dragon”
(Hey ‘Chelle 😉 )
(Sho NUFF!!!)

BUYING 45s FROM THE WEREHOUSE
(and hanging all the covers and 12″ singles on the wall)

THUGS ON WHEELS
(mad cause I couldn’t go)

CRYING BECAUSE I COULDN’T FIND MY MUSIC CLASS
(Music classes are ALWAYS in the Boondocks. I know why though; DTP)

LEARNING THAT KICKING A BOY IN THE YOU-KNOW-WHATS WILL GET HIM TO STEP OFF
(Heeeey, T-Ski 🙂 Sorry, Homie, but you know how it iz. ❤ ❤ ❤ Glad to see you procreated. Homeboy! )

GETTING TO SCHOOL EARLY
WITH MY HALL MONITOR SWEATER
( I LOOOOVED That Sweater!
It had the Pasteur logo
w/the PANTHER
Even in Jr. High, before I had ever heard of the Panthers….
Born with the RIGHT Material…..)

images

 

RIDING MY BIKE TO SCHOOL DOWN
WASHINGTON
(Heeyyyyy, Habibi ❤ ❤ ❤ 😀 )
W/MY EYES CLOSED
AND ALMOST GETTING STOPPED BY THE PIGS
SMH

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rodney Allen Rippey

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

PLEASE CLICK HERE

HOW TO EAT TO LIVE

AS-SALAAM-ALAIKUM!

Guess who I ran into last night, on my way home? (I had a very busy day, yesterday. I went downtown and saw free JAZZ. Then went to LACMA and saw some more free JAZZ. TOLD HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE ABOUT THIS. (Hey Ra! )

 

 Went to see about my Habibi ❤ (Honey-Baby in Arabic 😉 ) And on my way home ran into a childhood friend of mine and yours 😉

Remember this Brother??

A.J.

 I’ve learned that in America, there are some GOOD things going on in the Wilderness. Jack in the Box is one of the good ones. When I was little, I couldn’t even talk but everytime we passed a Jack In The Box, I would say loudly, “BAbababah!!”

No one in my family knew what I was saying, until one day somebody figured it out. We NEVER went there. But, obviously, I knew what it was.

My Uncle Mike, ONLY ate at BAbababah.

But I went there recently to get change for the bus, and I looked around, and it had historical pictures and I could not help but think, “THIS PLACE IS ALRIGHT.” Being homeless, it’s very difficult to find good food that won’t kill you.

Jack In The Box is a place that I endorse. And if you know me, you know that’s saying something.

Of course, “NO MEAT IS GOOD FOR YOU” but you can eat Onion Rings (they’re fried, but at least there’s no meat). They’re better than french fried potatoes, as well.

My son and I used to go there every years before and after Ramadan for the shakes. Pumpkin Pie and Egg Nog. OMG. Makes Christmastime almost bearable.

 YOU CAN READ MORE ABOUT HOW TO EAT TO LIVE BY CLICKING THIS LINK

He did try to talk to me too. Very subtley. Hollywood. But do you not see this ring on my finger, Brother? I tried to hook him up with one of my doppels. I didn’t tell her who he was. She looked too young to remember. Maybe.  Maybe not.

 

CHAPTER FIVE – THE NEW EDITION FIASCO

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

I grew up like any other Black girl in the eighties, so naturally, I was in love with New Edition. And no, not THE New Edition. (I used to HATE it when d.j.s or v.j.s or music show hosts introduced them like that!)

Anyway, it was awhile before I had heard of them, being that, my mom wouldn’t allow us to listen to the radio. But my Aunt would take me and my cousins for a ride down “The Arlington Doubles” and we would inevitably listen to the radio.

Well, “Candy Girl” came on the radio and my cousins started talking about New Edition. I had never heard of them.

So, anyway, I saw a video or something and learned more about them. I thought Ralph was the cutest.

So, one day at school, me and one of my cliques, (I have recently learned that I have split personalities) decided that we were each going to be with a member of New Edition. We wrote a novel about them and us.

Anyway, the Sister in charge of distributing, liked Ralph, so I was assigned Mike. I accepted it without protest. I was young and impressionable. And, when I commit to something, I give it my all or nothing. One Hundred Per Cent.

So, I convinced myself and everybody who knew me that I was head over heels in love with Michael L. Bivins.

I would probably STILL be in love with him, if it weren’t for my Habibi (Honey-Baby in Arabic 😀 ).

The Sister in charge of distribution won concert tickets from KDAY (the first radio station to feature an all hip-hop format) a limo pick-up, a N.E. jacket, front-row seats and backstage passes.

So, apparently she got to know them very well and they used to visit her home. She called me one time (I lived on the other side of town, remember?) and everybody (my clique and N.E.) was there.

img_2125

So, I talked to somebody on the phone, now that I think about it, I don’t think all of them were there. Probably just BBD and Bobby. Ralph might have been there. But I don’t think so.

Anyway, they wouldn’t let Baby talk to me. He was upset. I guess it was good for me, considering…… 😥 RIP Whitney & Bobbi Kris).

But anyway, they started calling me when New Edition WASN’T there and acted like they were them. I knew the game, but I really wanted it to be N.E. so I went along with it.

Years later, one of them came clean. (Thanks Baby E. ❤ )

I used to see them all the time. The first time I saw Mike, I was completely heartbroken because he liked my friend. But I still liked him.

Then I saw him and Rickie at The Beverly Center with my Honey Bear, and he said, “You STILL like him?” I felt real juvenile and that was that.

 It wasn’t until I converted to Islam, that I began to really know myself. So, the Truth resurfaced that had been buried, as it ALWAYS does. And yes, it can hurt.

But the Truth is, I was never really in love with Mike, just like I was never really in love with any other man, besides my Habibi <3. I’m sorry, Habibi ❤ . Allah is the Best Knower. And, here we are….

CHAPTER FOUR – “KISMET”

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

A.J.

The next time I saw my Honey Pooh-Bear was a few years later.

For some reason, my mom took us out of Trinity (and NOT Trinity Elem. in South Central!) We only went there that one (1) year. But, it was THE Most Memorable Year of My School Years, and I have TWO DEGREES! 😀

(“Trinity” – Hmmmph! لا إلهَ إلاّ اللّهُ THERE IS NO GOD BUT ALLAH!!!)

So, after “Trinity” (hmmph!), then we went to this school with devils. This was my first experience being with devils and I hated it and them. ALL of the teachers were prejudiced and there was not a single Black teacher in the whole school.

I know my mom only took us out of Trinity and dropped us in that hellhole because a girl from church whose parents were upper-middle class, and her brother went there.

Both my mom and my sister have this thing about the “Jones’ ” Not me though. At least I don’t think I do. I just like nice stuff – luxury and whatnot. But, not because anybody else has something. I like what I like. But, when you’re nine, you go wherever your mother takes you. :/

That’s really the only thing about that school worth mentioning. I learned how dirty and nasty, prejudiced and mischievous devils can be.

But, I had a best friend, Malikah! That was the first I had ever heard that name and I Never forgot her or it. (I know that’s not how you spell it, Dear Sister Malaika [ملكة] 😀 )

I didn’t find out until yesterday what my Hubby was doing those years we weren’t physically together (like now 😥 ) It was like he read my journal because I wrote all this stuff the day before yesterday!

Anyway, he changed his whole profile and posted all these throwback pics like, “Look Honey, this is what I was doing.” (smile) Honey-Sweet he is.

We stayed at the hell-hole for two years, then my parents decided to put us in public school. It was to be my first year in Junior High School.

I didn’t go to the neighborhood school. Now, it’s called “Johnny Cochran Middle School” but back then it was called “Mt. Vicious” LOL So, I went to school a little further West. :/

I wasn’t scared, just real nervous (Heeeeey, Fat Lip! 😀 ) because I had to catch the bus all by myself now. And, I didn’t know anybody at Pasteur, or so I thought.

But when I got there I saw a friend from church and she gave me the best. advice. ever. “Get in Drill Team.” (Heeeey Nikki! Thanks, Girl. ❤ How’s Snoopy? :/ )

So, I went there all three years and I remember three things.

1. My English Teacher – Mrs. Brown – She taught me my love for words extemporaneously. LOL Luv ya, Mrs. Brown!!! ❤ ❤

2. Reading The Color Purple. I always thought “Mr. Blank” But, I guess that wouldn’t work in a feature film. :/

3. Sitting in assembly and noticing that a group of students didn’t say the Pledge of Allegiance to the American flag. That really got my attention. They didn’t even stand up! They just sat right there in their seats while we’re all pledging our allegiance to the flag of this wicked and evil counry of Christian devils who enslave, beat, rape and kill us DAILY! I must’ve already had it in me because I asked them “Why didn’t you say the Pledge of Allegiance?” They said:

“WE HAVE OUR OWN FLAG.“

ACTUAL FACTS BOARD

I didn’t know it then, but I was well on my way to joining the Nation of Islam right then and there.

I took a Computer Class and the extent of our learning how to program a computer was how to make a word or phrase run up, down and around; even sideways (Heeeey Dana!!! LOL) on the screen, ad infinitum.

But the teacher, Mr. Spencer (I wonder if he is a musician, hmmmm???) was soooooo cool. I learned all the words to “Roxanne-Roxanne” in his class. (We couldn’t listen to the radio at home. :/ ) Now that I remember him, he had to be a musician. His classes were full of music!

I had him for “Electric Shop” too. When I should have been in “Homemaking Class.” I think mine was the first generation to suffer from the effects of the “Women’s Lib” movement. “Latch-Key Kids….” The removal of “Shop” and “Homemaking” AND Art and Music…. I don’t know why they got rid of the Art and Music. Maybe they just threw out everything fun (Art and Music) and PRACTICAL (Shop [for the fellas] and Homemaking [for the girls] ). :/

Mr. Spencer noticed my typing one day and asked if I knew how to play the piano. The next thing I know I’m in the school band. I didn’t even know we had a band! They probably just started it back up for me. hee hee hee 😉

It was kinda fun though. I got to play the vibes a little. And I thought it was hella cool, the way the Brother who played the baritone saxophone used to lean to the side and play. I think he used to wear shades too. Salute!

images
(Something like this 🙂 )

(Heeeey, Ms. Greene, I wish you had let me play the vibes a little more, Dear Sister. 😦 )

I KNOW I SAW A VIDEO OF DINAH WASHINGTON PLAYING THE VIBES SOMEWHERE. BUT I CAN’T FIND IT!!!

I HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS.

 Anyway, at some point between Fifth and Ninth Grades (I was thinking Sixth, but judging by the sparkle in my eyes [it mirrors the sparkle in my Fourth Grade pic] in my Eighth grade picture, it may have been further down the road)

Me and my Honey-Bear ran into each other again.

1929072_1058754600951_3024531_n

Sparks flew around the playground at Rancho Cienega. We were the only ones there.

Everybody else was watching boring Little League baseball. I’d rather watch paint dry.  But it is fun to play. When Our Saviour, Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Praises Are Due Forever, was among us, in the history of The Nation of Islam, the Believers would join together, on Holy Tuesday (every Tuesday), and enjoy each other’s company.

Our Saviour, Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Praises Are Due Forever, Would WALTZ! with one of the Lucky Sisters, WITH A GLASS OF WATER ON HIS HEAD!!!!!!!

The Believers and The Saviour would play games for prizes, and play baseball.

I used to play softball at the devil’s hell-hole and it must’ve been my first experience, because I remember I used to throw the bat every time I hit the ball. And everybody would yell, “Don’t throw the bat!” So, I used to overdo it. I would carefully, slowly and deliberately, lay the bat down by my feet after I hit the ball and then TAKE OFF!

I can be so dramatic…….

Anyway, we were the only ones at the playground and he must’ve spotted me first because I don’t really remember how our chance encounter commenced.

(Doesn’t “Ro-Ro” look like Ronnie??? Hmmmm????)

Man, we used to have so much fun at the playground back in the day.

The simpy playground equipment they have for our children to play on nowadays is boring compared to the toys we used to have. The only thing they retained that’s any fun are the swings. It’s hard to find a decent slide nowadays.

We played on the see-saw. It’s too bad they don’t make them like they used to. You could really cement a friendship on the See-Saw. You were completely putting your life in the other person’s feet (smile) all the while, creating a life-long, close-knit bond that can only come from riding a see-saw with the one you love.

That’s probably why they don’t have them anymore. They (American devils) don’t want us to form those types of bonds. They don’t even want them with each other. Mischief and Bloodshed is what they were made for.

But we rode it together anyway.

He pushed me on the Merry-Go-Round and we talked.

I used to love the Merry-Go-Round too, so I’m just having a ball with the man of my dreams and just as happy as I could be, and just as oblivious to the magnitude of the time as I could be too.

I asked him how come he wasn’t playing baseball. His reply was that he plays Basketball. How cool is that?!?!? My Honey is the Dopest. They didn’t have a hoop in the whole park yet he still won’t play boring baseball. Such a showman.

“SHOWTIME!!!”

 

CHAPTER THREE – “FIGHT THE POWER”

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

(Ha! You thought I was going to post P.E., huh?!! 😛 You’ve heard that one already. Well, probably more than this one anyway 😉 )

 So, I’ve been living in this sober living place ever since I attempted…. 😥

And therein, I’ve lived with Miles and Jimi and they really want me to sing, but it has to be under the right & exact circumstances and it has to be JAZZ.

I was in a bed directly across from that bruja sucia that Marlon Wayans got that thing he does with his nipples from too. :/ There is an underworld in the entertainment industry that I am literally RUNNING from.

Sometimes, when I’m fired up, I fight, but when I do, it brings out such ugliness in people that many times I almost wish I hadn’t. But this is the day when the veil of falsehood MUST be removed and the Truth made manifest. I win anyway.

In the past four months, I’ve been in more physical altercations than I’ve been in my whole life.

I never had a fight until my x-husband’s new wife tried to keep me from seeing his daughter (A.J. #2 🙂 ) I was about 28.

The next fight was when my x-roommate’s boyfriend liked me so……. cheah….. That was when I was 36 in 2008.

After that fight, I talked to Akhi (my Brother) and he told me that The Holy Qur-an states that “Fighting is Ordained.” This is Armageddon, so naturally, we will have to fight this Holy War.

Since March, I’ve been in:

– Two (2) fights with my x-roommate, who was a stripper.

– Three (3) fights with another x-roommate, who was this man/woman “tranny” (trans-sexual Ewwwww!!!!!!! :/ )

– Two (2) fights with the manager where I lived, at whom I had to put a knife to his throat to get him off of me. He’s lucky to be alive.

– One (1) fight with my 6′ 200 lb. x-roommate who lied on me left and right.

– And the last one (1) was with a devil. I have never seen more hate in my life. And, I’ve seen hate. He tried to choke me to death. Devils are SO weak. He was using all his strength and couldn’t even hurt me, much less kill me! Pffffff GTFOOP

Before we got started, he mockingly said, “What are you gonna do, CRY?” Obviously, he doesn’t know LATIFAH ALLAH. OR SHOULD I SAY, لطيفة الله FOOL.

“Weak-boned and stale-faced is what Our Beloved Messenger (Peace Be Upon Him) Taught us is what they are. Don’t you fear NONE of them!!!

My Beloved Brothers & Sisters in the America, they were grafted from us! There is no way the copy is as good as the original. Let alone the FOURTH copy! Pfffffff GTFOOP

They are cowards and they are all going to die a coward’s death. ALLAH (GOD) IS NOT GOING TO LET THEM GET AWAY WITH MURDERING THE RIGHTEOUS FOREVER, Believe that! You just try and get out of the way. He is going to wipe them off our Planet. READ THIS (CLICK ON THE PICTURE)

MESSAGE TO THE BLACKMAN

So, that’s nine (9) fights in four months. 2.5 (two and one-half) fights per month if I count the time this Brother tried to rape me by sitting on my bed.

The “Society of the Homeless” has its own set of rules and sitting on someone’s bed is equivalent to raping them. In sha Allah, I’ll write a memoir about it. But I will say this, all of the card-carrying members have been to three places:

* Skid Row
* The Psych Ward
* Jail.

Anyway, I had to push his big fat ass off my bed with my feet. (I’m not sure if the owner of the bed has to be sitting on the bed for it to be considered rape. I’m not a card-carrying member, so IDK.)  Ultimately, had to throw a glass jar at him to get him to leave me alone.

I love throwing glass anyway. Just the anticipation as it soars through the air and then the melody it makes when it breaks is so beautiful. There’s nothing else like it in the world. It’s a good stress-reliever. Lately, I’ve been throwing glass at walls. That’s a completely different sensation altogether. Much more fulfilling. I know, I know, I have issues…….. But you can read WHY! Really.

That fight was the worst, by far, out of them all. Because my chastity was at risk, and Muslim women will fight to the death before we allow someone to defile our Temple. I was shaking afterwards and this was the owner’s driver!

I don’t think he had any idea how strongly I detested his behaviour. He was probably turned on with his sick self. And he was my x-husband’s doppelganger!

You can forget about it, Dookie. Or should I say, Dookie, Sr. :/

*Who knew the ring was internal/under the skin? 😉 ALLAH!

Anyways…….. since then I’ve moved out and I finally have my own room. I’ve discovered that that was the problem from the first. I’m unlike most people already, PLUS, I’m a Muslimah! There is no way Truth can live with falsehood in peace. It’s like Light and Darkness. They cannot co-exist.

It’s Christianity and Islam. Everybody is trying to get along and work together and whatnot, but it’s never going to work. There is only one way of life and that is ISLAM. Everything else has got to go.

You can think harsh of me if you wish. But, I didn’t come up with this. Allah (God) Did. So, you can take it up with Him. It’s His Way or the Highway (Destruction). That’s the ONLY way we’re ever going to have Peace on Earth.

Allah (God) Is Going to rid the Earth of the Peace-Breakers. There is ONE GOD and He Has ONE WAY OF LIFE – ISLAM. Take it or leave it. But if you leave it, you are going to have to leave OUR Planet. Sayonara!

So, no more fights, In sha Allah; no more idiot boxes (I don’t know how anybody can watch that garbage, but all my roommates do is lay in the bed and watch T.V. all day, every day. No wonder we got in fights! All they ever got out of bed for was to eat or do what comes after eating. :/

They hated me. I don’t sleep for one. I listen to the radio and sew or read the Holy Qur-an. I always have something to do. But all they do is watch interracial relationships and homosexuality, that’s all I ever saw on T.V.

 It would have driven me crazy if I wasn’t already crazy. 😛 But whenever I would find a place away from the madness and “isolate” and be at peace, here comes the manager talking about, it’s “against the rules” to be there. I was like Biz, “Don’t give me that. Don’t give me that! Yo! Bust this!“

Allah is The BEST PLANNER. The owner knows where I am. He has FIVE (5) houses and I was in four of them. After awhile a person’s true colors start to come out. I was straight-up from jump. I liked him too. He had more common sense than anyone I’ve met since I’ve been homeless.

But he is a card-carrying member of the society and his right-hand man pulled my coat and told me I couldn’t go to the fifth house. Why? IDK. But, I know one thing. If they weren’t so afraid of devils, he would do much better. All of his employees are afraid of devils. He would tell them, in introduction, “She doesn’t like white people.” And they would practically trip over themselves in their haste to get away from me. :/

He also needs to clean up his act. One time, he was about to go to jail. I’m not into drama at all, and try to avoid it at all costs, so I was in my room, enjoying the solitude, while everybody else was outside peeping the action.

But when I found out what was up, I went outside and just my presence caused a change. He had been handcuffed and was sitting in the back of the patrol car when I stepped on the scene. But while everybody else was 200 feet back, I went right up to where the pigs where. I didn’t even say anything. But my presence was felt.

He was like, “You better stand back, Sister. They might start shooting.”  I was like “Pfffffff, Allah (God) Created the Steel that their guns are made out of. He Has Power Over His Creation. I Fear Nothing and Noone But Allah.” 

Next thing you know, they were un-cuffing him and shooting the breeze. So, of course, they let him go, and I went back in the house. When you patrol the pigs, YOU MUST STAY UNTIL THEY LEAVE. Pigs are just brainless tools for the most part. You can control them with the Help of Allah. But if you leave, they will take the person to jail. When they see you’re not leaving until THEY leave, they ALWAYS let the person/people go.

So, if all you’re going to do is go home and watch T.V., :/ Stay and help your Brother or Sister UNTIL THE POLICE LET THEM GO. And they will. I can almost guarantee it. I’ve done it several times and only once did they take the poor Brother to jail. But this was on Skid Row and they have a different set of rules, as I already mentioned.

But anyway, the owner proved that he loves devils or money or both more than he loves Allah and his own Black People. So, he lets them in his houses and ALL they do is cause trouble among the Righteous. I just happen to not be one of the blissfully ignorant, so I saw it at once and when I realized that he could not be reformed, Allah, Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Praises Are Due Forever, Opened A Door Wide Enough For Me To Escape With NO MONEY!!!!!!!

And, I didn’t abscond. I talked to him about what I had in mind well before I was planning to leave, but he just got defensive and real ugly, so I knew there was no point and I better leave soon.

I’m kind of sad thinking about it. I mean, I was there four months and genuinely loved the Brother, kinda like a father figure. We both love Jazz. But when I started moving out, in retrospect, it’s like we were breaking up. And, I haven’t broken up with anyone since 2006. But, that’s what it felt like. A bad break-up. I feel bad now. But all I can do is plant a seed. Allah (God) Has to make is germinate, if it Pleases Him.

Dear Beloved Sisters, I just wrote a blog on how to escape prostitution and I probably should have included this jewel too. Maybe I’ll post a link or something. But, I wasn’t scheduled to receive my money, for about another week, and I really needed to move right away, so I talked to the owner of the place I planned to move into, rather the manager talked to the owner for me, and asked if I could move in early and could she pro-rate (It’s important to use the right terminology) the room to me until I got my money. And, she agreed. I mean, the room is empty anyway, right?

So, I’ve got my own room. It’s a step in the right direction considering four months ago, I was homeless and suicidal. It’ll do while I wait for my Captain to come “save me.” 😛 LOL

Here you go, Beloved Asiatic So-Called American Negroes!!!!

WITH THE HELP OF OUR SAVIOUR,

MASTER FARD MUHAMMAD,
TO WHOM PRAISES ARE DUE FOREVER,

WE WILL WIN!!!!!!

ALLAH U AKBAR!!!!!!
ALLAH IS THE GREATEST!!!!!!

Okay, now Spike directed, what, imo, is the greatest hip-hop video I’ve ever seen (“Scenario“) but he dropped the ball with this one. Boring.

Then, I was going to post the opening credits from the movie, but…… #nasty

Then, I was going to post the album version, but like Spike’s video, it just wasn’t hittin’.

Then, I heard this one and it had me at “L” 😉

 

CHAPTER ONE – “THE RED LINE”

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

Yet again, I felt the irresistible urge to disembark from the Red Line several miles before reaching my intended destination – North Hollywood or Union Station – depending on the direction of the train on which I happened to find myself. At this point, it really didn’t matter to me anymore. I was not too particular about where I ended up. Either would have suited me.

I had been going back on forth on the train for the better part of the morning anyway.

This was not the first time I had experienced such a driving force, which left me traveling in circles until crepuscule crept up, finding me nowhere nearer either destination than I had been when I first descended the escalator to the first underground platform.

Usually, by mid-afternoon, I have resigned myself to the fact that I’m not going to reach any destination – not that day, anyway – which is truthfully, just my ostensible excuse for being out of the home and in the street. My true cacoethes is always the burning desire that I will happen upon my Beloved Jamal, and he will take me home, as usual. Only, this time will be that last time and we’ll finally attain our HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

But, alas, following crepuscule is the night, and I have long since developed the habit that results after years of practicing proper training and I am always indoors at least an hour before Sunset.

This day, March 19, 2015, was turning out to be particularly peculiar because not only had I seen my Beloved’s doppelganger, but I had seen THREE of them (if you include the night before)!! And now, here I stood – all alone.

The antiquated relics of old reel-to-reel magnetic films seemed to taunt me. As if to say, “Ha-Ha! You’re one of us now!” – Just a memory of an era long-gone whose train has left the station. “And you missed it!”

But, there’s always another train. Like buses. If you wait long enough. Even overnight. There’s always another one.

They say the same thing to a woman who has been scorned in love…

It’s not true though. Not to a woman who has found her one and only life’s Soulmate. You only get one. If you fuck it up. You’re left with really, two options, only one of which is feasible to the woman. Outsiders who have never met their Soulmate will never understand. They don’t understand why the woman will choose to torture herself with option #1. They will pity her and try relentlessly, however unsuccessfully, to intervene, and force other men on her (option #2), which only makes her situation worse – Not only can she not be at peace (or as close as humanly possible to peace – for a woman in such a heart-wrenching predicament) mourning her lost love, but she has to deal with unwanted and certainly unsolicited advances of unwanted men, who will never stand a chance. More unfortunately, for the woman, that just makes her more desirable. They love the chase and also unfortunately for the woman, no chase is more challenging than a woman who has her heart set on a man who is punishing her for fucking up.

*** I’m just so sorry it took me so long to realize ***
* * * * *

There is only one Amad-Jamal Washington. It has taken the greater portion of my life to realize that and after watching the last doppelganger, who was him will a full beard, ride off on the Red Line, while I stood, helplessly, on the platform, I wanted to die.

And this shadowy underground tomb housing the dry bones of an industry in which I had only reached the thresh-hold, but never cracked the ceiling seemed to be the perfect backdrop for my final curtain call.

I heard a train rumbling in the distance and a voice that seemed to emanate from the only other person in the station impassively and unabashedly taunted me, “Do It!” 

The voice urged me on in a voice that seemed loud enough to echo in my ear, although it was only a whisper.

That was all it took.

The next thing I knew, I was in a fetal position on the tracks anxiously anticipating the dramatic conclusion to an, arguably, even MORE DRAMATIC Musical Stage-play that I, with much sentiment, called my life.

However, “We Plan and Allah Plans; Surely Allah is The BEST OF PLANNERS.” 

Apparently, He Had Other Plans for me, because not only did the train not hit and kill me, it rolled over my head, as if I wasn’t even there!