Brujeria

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She walked off the hiking trail, deep in the forest, towards the hills, where she and her friends once hiked and saw an nkunia tiba. A strange sight indeed, to see a tropical tree grow in the middle of an American deciduous forest. Although, technically, she knew the nkunia tiba wasn’t a tree proper. It was a large cormous plant with a very big pseudostem.

Some of the trees she walked past had wooded vines growing around them. The trees being slowly strangled to death. Her heart stopped. Paused. At the sight of one such serpentine vine. And so she knelt on her knees, paying her respect to the vine with a salute. Her wrists crossed, “Nsala maleko,” she said beneath her breath, “I hope your day has been beautiful, friend vine.”

She lightly placed her forehead to the vine, to feel the warmth of its aura, and enjoyed some silence with it for some time. She couldn’t help prevent the tears from falling. She wiped her eyes, sniffled, and got up, to continue walking. Her heart, heavy with sadness.

As she stepped away from the vine, she felt a light muscle tension in her left leg, and a pulling sensation in her solar plexus. A feeling of concern, stirred in her heart. She knew the spirit of the vine was gently calling her back to it, concerned for why she was crying. And so, she returned to the vine, and sat with it, in the quiet forest, surrounded by the living spirits of the forest and hills.

She entered a light trance, to commune with the spirit of the vine, which was calling her to connect with it. Her gaze at the vine became soft, as her mind tranquilized. Her heart beat slowed down. Her breathing slowed and deepened. And she visualized an aura of energy which enveloped her heart extend outward to embrace the vine. Their two energy fields merging. Her heart heavy with despair. “It’s my husband…” she said beneath her breath, “he was unfaithful.” She was quiet for a long moment, visualizing the events that took place.

Her heart cramped up, at the sharp pain the fresh memories caused. “I was going up the hill, to ask the tiba tree for help, for its leaves. I was told its spirit works dark sorcery.” A feeling of satisfaction comforted her cramped heart as she thought about using dark sorcery to seek justice. She sat in silence, listening with her heart – her heart-center, her psyche – to see if the vine spirit had anything to say to her. She wept for a while, in that quiet forest. Her sobbing intermingled with the rustling of leaves.

And inside the depth of her psyche, she felt a gestalt of shades of emotions, of warmth, tenderness, redness of anger, deep blueness of sympathy. She saw in her heart the imaginal vision of a vine wrapped around her husband’s body, accompanied with shades of feelings, the vine’s strong redness of anger merged with her hearts heavy sadness, as if the vine were telling her in human language: “I can strangle his life-force for you. Like I strangle this tree.”

She nodded, feeling in her heart, the wordless empathic language of the vine’s communication. “Can you help me? May I use your leaves? I only seek justice, to right a wrong he has committed against me.” She waited, quietly, her mind entranced, her awareness focused in her heart. And in her psyche, she saw an imaginal memory surface up. A memory of her Godmother – her spiritual teacher – teaching her about plants. That when you sit with the plants, and pay your respects, and ask them for help, they will increase the potency of the medicine in their leaves and bark for you.

She understood, what the vine was saying to her, “You will make the magical properties of your leaves more potent for me? I will come back in a few days then, with gifts for you to show you my gratitude, and I will collect some of your leaves.” She waited, in silence, to see what the vine would say. And in the imaginal field of her heart, she saw instead a vision of the vine’s root, embraced by the moist soil, and its telluric energy. She nodded, “I understand. Not your leaves, but some of your root. Thank you, friend vine!” Her heart felt glad and light.

She took out her chamalongos, and after saying the opening prayer, she held them in her hands, “I will come back to you in a few days. Will your roots be ready my friend?” She dropped her chamalongos and was given a yes. “Then, if everything is all good, I will go now to see the tiba tree, yes?” She dropped her chamalomgos again and was given a yes.

She got up. A smile on her face. Her heart, yellow with gladness. She looked endearingly at her new friend for a moment, and gave it a kiss of appreciation. And she continued to walk up to the hills. Where the tiba tree, and its half blossomed inflorescence, waited.

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Readings & Empathy

I’m still alive. Seems like as I get older, I have less time to be on the internet. Or at least, I prioritize my time better.

I’ve been regularly going up into the desert and up the mountains for religious [Palo] reasons as of late. Attending Rayamientos of new Ngueyos, helping my Godfather out with the ceremony. Each time I go, I learn something new.

I’ve also been practicing reading cards. I’ve bought a mess of decks. I never used to like psychic cards, because I thought they were silly. It was the ONA and Vanessa who got me all into tarot cards and stuff. These are my card decks I have so far:

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From top left to bottom right, I have the ‘Wild Unknown’ deck, the standard ‘Rider’ deck, the Anna.K tarot deck which is my go to deck. Then I have the ‘Pixie’s Astounding Lenormand’ deck, the classic ‘Gypsy Witch’ deck, a regular deck of poker cards on which I wrote the cartomantic meanings, an Hungarian Gypsy deck, and the ‘Alternate Realities’ deck which is my favorite Lenormand deck.

I like to use a few cards from each deck in a reading, like this:

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I’ve learned that the card readings I do for myself get pretty precise and accurate if and when my mind is relaxed and in that “zone” of quiet thoughtless concentration. Sometimes, to check to see if my readings are good, I’ll go to Etsy.com and ask one of my Go-To psychics the same question to see if they get the same empathic insights.

I love the Hanged Man card of the Wild Unknown Tarot. It’s a bat. There’s this story in Palo about bats, where it is said that when Nzambi [God] created the world, the bat was his only witness to creation. And so, a bat must always be present in an Nganga.

Speaking of the subject: my Godfather gave me my Chamalongos!

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Chamalongos are an important divination tool used in Palo. They are made from coconut shells. You can’t just cut four disks out of a coconut and start tossing them though. Your Godfather and his Nganga have to do a ceremony with them to Consecrate and Charge them.

I can’t say how they are Charged. But a lot of different powders are used, mostly necromantic powders. Gunpowder is also used in the Charging ceremony, which is why you see the disks are slightly burned.

To make them work, you have to say a Licensia Prayer each time you begin working with them. The Licensia prayer in Taoist Sorcery is what we’d call a Heart Spell; they’re virtually the same concept. You basically say your spiritual name, the spiritual name of your teacher [Si Gung in Taoism or Godfather/Godmother in Palo] say the name of your house and lineage, and a bunch of other things. And that prayer gives you the “spiritual license” to use the divination tool, or it makes the tool work properly, and it connects your Heartmind [Chitta] with the Tao of your lineage.

Another thing you need to make Chamalongos work is a spirit to talk with. It’s like having a phone: a phone only works right if you actually have someone to call and talk to! This is the same with Taoism and our Jiaobei moon blocks.

I’ve been using my Chamalongos to work and talk with my MB. An “MB” is something your Godfather makes for you after you get cut into Palo, the traditional Mayombe branch that is.

An MB is basically a traditional Mexican clay cup, inside which are secrets, along with the head and feathers of a sacrificed rooster. I can’t share a picture on the internet of my MB because it’s a sacred/secret religious fetish.

Usually, the rooster head is inside the clay cup and certain kinds of dirt covers the head. But I asked my Godfather to make my chicken head visible because I thought it was cool. Bad idea! It started rotting and smelling majorly bad, and maggots were everywhere.

The main component of an MB is called “Engando.” Basically, engandos from your Godfather’s prenda/nganga are wrapped in a burlap sack and placed into that clay cup. Other secrets are placed inside, then a rooster is sacrificed to it, and the chicken’s head is placed in the thing.

I can’t say what exactly engandos are. But when you are ready to have your own nganga, your MB is placed inside of your new nganga, becoming the heart of your nganga. And so, the ngandos inside of your MB physically links your own nganga with a previously existing nganga.

In this way, all modern ngangas that are contained in metal or clay pots can trace their ancestry back to a single potted nganga in Cuba, regardless of the branch. It would be like if your teacher had a tree and he broke a branch of that tree to give to you. Then that branch grew into a tree. Then you got your own student and you gave your student a branch of your tree. And so on.

It is this physical link, via engandos from a previous nganga, that gives your own nganga its power and life force. And so, without that physical link, your nganga is not legitimate and is powerless. It’s just an empty; dead; pot of dirt, sticks, and bones.

There is also the spiritual link: a ceremony is done to call down the nfumbe of an ancestor of your lineage into your new pot. Without that ceremony, your nganga is empty, meaning no nfumbe lives in your pot. Would you pay an eventual $10,000 for a fake nganga with no nfumbe/muerto in it? How can you tell?

Then there is a third link. Constructing an nganga is the conception stage. Like conceiving a baby. Once the baby has been conceived, it has to be born. And so the third link gives birth to your nganga. The third link is via the Kina. I can’t say what a Kina is, but your nganga has to be inside your Godfather’s nganga’s Kina for several months. Otherwise your nganga is not properly born.

And so you can’t make your own nganga. It needs those three links: physical, spiritual, and Kina. But I do have a Palero friend I met who is building his own nganga. He’s been in the religion longer than I have, so he outranks me. So it’s not in my place to tell my friend that he’s doing it wrong. I told my Godfather about my friend making his own nganga, and my Godfather just nonchalantly said: “Your friend is stupid. That’s not an nganga he making. That’s not Palo.”

So, long before you even get your own nganga, you get your MB, which is the heart of your future nganga. So you cultivate a relationship with your MB now, by talking to it and working with it.

So you use your chamalongos to talk with your MB. You first spray it with rum, then drink some yourself. Then you blow cigar smoke at it, and you smoke the cigar. The rum and cigar relaxes your mind and puts you into a light trance state. That’s the state in which your MB communicates with you.

You ask your MB a question and initially it will give you an empathic impression in your heart-center, your Chitta. Then you toss your chamalongos after you get that empathic impression to confirm or verify that the empathic message you got was correct. And so, talking with your MB, with your chamalongos, frequently strengthens your empathic abilities.

Your MB is a baby spirit, and so it really can’t do much as far as magic and Sorcery goes. But it’s like a baby muscle: the more you use that muscle, the bigger and stronger it gets.

So, and example of working with my MB and my chamalongos: recently I wanted to break a couple up. And so I sat down with my MB and asked it if it can break a couple up for me. I waited and got an empathic feeling that it will try. I toss my chamalongos and they said maybe.

So I told my MB: “It doesn’t have to be elaborate where you make situations rip them apart. All you need to do is work to change their heart, how they feel for each other. They will do the rest themselves. Can you do that?” I waited quitely and got the clairsentient impression that my MB said yes it can. So I tossed my chamalongos and they said yes.

I took out a jar of stuff that belonged to this couple and I placed the jar in front of my MB and I asked it: “Inside that jar are items that belong to this couple. Including dirt from their home which has their Kina in it. Can you feel their presence with those items and find them?” I waited and got the feeling like my MB said no, it can’t find them with those items. I tossed my chamalongos and they said no. I got an insight to use a photo. So I placed a photo of this couple under my MB and gave it the couple’s full name. Then I asked my MB if it can find the couple with the photo and their full names. I got the impression that it can find them. So I tossed my chamalongos and they said yes.

So I asked my MB: “Okay. Tell me what I should do.” And I sat there in silence. I got a flood of visions on my mind, of using brown paper from a paper bag, writing their names on the paper, a magical herb used in black magic, crossroad dirt from a crossroad that had violent accidents, and so on.

So I tore the paper with the couple’s name written on them, and use the ingredients to make two little packets. Then I asked my MB if I had made the packets good and right. I got the impression that I did. I tossed my chamalongos and they said yes.

I placed the two packets on top of my MB. And I got an impression that my MB was telling me: “You don’t need both packets on top of me because they both have the same names and same ingredients.” So I asked my MB: “Should I take the extra packet to the railroad tracks and leave it there?” I waited, and got the impression that my MB was saying to me: “You could if you want, but that serves no practical purpose.” I tossed my chamalongos and they said maybe.

So I asked my MB if I should take the extra packet to the cemetery and bury it. I got the impression that my MB was saying to me: “That’s a good idea. You can try it.” I tossed my chamalongos and they said yes. Then I got a flash of insight to burn the extra packet, since in  Taoist Sorcery we would burn it, for certain reasons.

In Taoist sorcery, such a packet, or paper with magical characters is a “container” of the magically charged Heart-energy [chi]. When you burn the contianer, that magically charged energy seeks a new container, like water seeking a new container. If you break a cup of water, the water will spill to the floor which is its new container. And so burning your magical paper or packets causes the Heart-energy in it to seek a new container. You can direct that Heart-energy to seek the intended target person as its new container. In this way magic works at a distance. All people are interconnect via the heart-center [chitta/psyche]. Time and distance are irrelevant. The stronger the heart connection between two people, the easier it is for Heart-energy to travel between the two.

I asked my MB if I can burn the extra packet and got the impression that it was an even better idea. So I tossed my chamalongos and they gave me a strong yes. So I burned it.

So that’s how you use chamalongos with spirits. You don’t actually use the chamalongos to give you answers to your questions. You use them to verify the empathic impression – clairvoyance, clairaudience, clairsentience – that the spirits give to you. Eventually you learn to directly communicate with the spirits and to trust your empathic impressions. And you learn to distinguish your own thoughts and feelings from those that spirits give to you.

Reading cards for me works in a similar way. You allow your empathy/intuition to give you the meaning of the cards, and not really rely on the written meaning of each card. In this way you learn to flex your muscle of intuition/empathy.

 

Nexion Zine 4.1

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Nexion Zine 4.1 is out and has been uploaded to archive.org.

Here’s the link: Nexion Zine 4.1

I’d like to thank everybody who sent their condolences regarding my cousin’s death. It’s honestly appreciated. I’m sorry I haven’t replied to some of your emails. I will soon. I haven’t been online since October. I wasn’t really in the mood. I’m doing well now.

I included a few pictures of Tiff’s funeral in this issue.  It’s just a few pix of some of my notable family members whom I often write about. I’m somewhere in one of the pictures somewhere. 2017 is the 4th year of Nexion zine.

I’ll be back after Christmas. You guys have a happy holiday season!

 

Watching Graphs

I like graphs. I’ve been watching graphs slowly move up and down for 10 years now [I’ve had other wordpresses in the past]. To me it’s fun to watch. I’m mostly familiar with the WordPress graph we see in our stats page. I find the graphs to be interesting. Mondays seems to be the day of the week I get the most hits for whatever reason, usually.

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When I’m not working or hanging out or writing, I stare at a different kind of graph. The graphs are properly called ‘candlestick charts’.

I’m teaching myself how to trade [stocks and so on]. I mainly trade foreign currency. Those are the two thing I like to do: write and trade. I’m still an amateur at trading. Only been practicing [with real money] for a year and a half, I think.

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Graphs can get sophisticated, packed full of information.

In the old days, I used to study my WordPress graphs, to see what days got the most hits and why, and what type of thing I wrote that day. From what information I collected, I’d learn to write/craft essays that my audience liked to read. The reader is King, as they say.

With sophisticated foreign currency graphs you get a huge amount of information. You’re brain gets used to processing that information into stuff your mind can understand.

You end up learning that the rise and fall of the value of money isn’t chaotic or random. It’s almost predictable… almost. I wouldn’t use the word “predict” because that’s a dangerous mentality to get into with trading. I would use the word “empath.”

You can empath the most probable Trend of the market. Meaning the most likely direction the value of the money will be probabilistically taking.

For instance, in the above graph/chart of the British Pound vs the US Dollar, the current Trend is a Drop; it’s going down; the US Dollar is kicking the British Pound’s ass. But in a few days, the Trend will reverse. And so as a Trend-Surfer [which is how I trade], you’d wait for those points of trend reversals, and wait for the appropriate signs and signals that confirm such, then you jump in the market and buy/sell some currency.

It’s like this feedback loop of evolution, where your environment influenced your development. With WordPress – over the past 10 years – the stats graph I watch have actually influenced my style of writing, how I articulate my essays, and so on. Now, as I’m teaching myself how to write fiction, I see the same process of development, where the graph is influencing me to adapt to how I write stories. It’s like a dance, where you the Writer dance with the Reader/Audience, and together that dance helps you evolve.

With trading, the graphs/charts helps you evolve in a different way: it sharpens your skills, where you learn from your mistakes, because every mistake you make is real money lost.

I love graphs. I don’t know why. They’re fun to watch. Representations of pure information. I’ve always been a sponge for pure information. I love the process of your brain having to interpret and process that information into something understandable to the conscious mind. It’s like Sparring…

And with that skill of being able to process pure information, you can then watch the World, and read Nature like a book of Graphs and Data Points and Patterns… then process all that pure information into philosophical concepts/insights. Which is what Natural Philosophy is. And I love Natural Philosophy. It is the foundation of both Science & Buddhism.

 

My Voice

During 2016 I had this little idea that I would make a video recording of my voice sometime in 2017 to celebrate my having been around for 10 years writing stuff.

It was just a tiny idea I had at first, which I was very reluctant to follow up on, out of fear that making such a video – to let my audience hear my actual voice, and what I sound like when I talk – would harm my mystique and “mythos.”

I’m using the word “mythos” very loosely here, to point at the mental or imagined “Chloe” that people who have read my essays have created for themselves in their own minds.

So, I didn’t tell anybody about that little idea I had, and I wasn’t going to do it. I just didn’t want to potentially harm my “mythos,” at the time.

But, oddly, and wyrdfully, when 2017 came around, one by one I would get these associates, friends, and penpals I know who would – out of nowhere – ask me about my voice, how I talk, what I sound like.

A couple of my friends/penpals even asked me to give them a recording of my voice so they can at least have a voice to put with all my writings.

And so I promised these handful of people that I’d make a video recording of me talking “sometime this year.” I was going to put it off, like forever.

I’m a genuine believer in Providence [the Living Cosmos]. It’s not a belief. It’s a knowing based on what I have experienced and what I have seen of Life. But my personal belief is that Providence is Formless. And being Formless, it interacts and communicates with each of us through others and through Nature.

And so, I believe that when people out of nowhere wyrdfully say things to you about a topic or subject matter you have been contemplating on secretly or privately, that Providence is Speaking through them to you.

I obediently follow the nudges of Providence; as I have been for these past 10 years. It’s never failed me.

The most recent associate who randomly – out of nowhere –  brought up my voice; saying that he’s never even heard it; was Beast Xeno: just a few days ago! I took BX’s wyrdful mention of hearing my voice to be a nudge from Providence telling me: “Well… do it!”

So, as I promised, I did make a short video recording of me talking. It’s short. I might make more randomly, if or when I think of something to say. But I don’t want to spread myself out too thin and make it a habit. I want to focus myself on writing essays and stories. I don’t want to do podcasts or have a youtube channel.

But I seriously doubt anybody out there is remotely interested in hearing me talk a second time. Besides, it makes me feel insane and uneasy talking to myself out loud all by myself like that.

A few associates have told me – correctly so – that one can learn a lot of revealing things about a person by hearing their voice and listening to how they talk normally. Agreed.

I’m actually not a mean person by nature. But my mood influences how I write often. And so, if I feel moody or angry, I write in a very assertive and aggressive way. But such writings are born from emotional agitation. I’m not a mean person at all. And I’m not aggressive or tough either, in the butch or bull-dike way.

At any rate. The voice video is over at my tumblr: HERE. It sounds better with headphones or earbuds.

 

 

Temples

 

forgotten…

dilapidated…

unwanted…

unneeded…

i was once used…

to shelter a people…

wherein they went about their business…

from which they built their cities…

and expanded their civilizations away from me…

they have gone their way…

having fallen…

what lives i once housed…

what minds once beheld me…

are lost now in time…

yet i remain…

a shelter to phantoms and memories…

evocative…

provocative…

dark…

haunting…

more alive then i was to them…

these damp walls…

my earthly sent…

my crawling darkness…

my cold silence…

wherein your thoughts and fears echo…

here, in me is your atonement…

atonement with Living Darkness…

let then burn, your myrrh and incense of mars…

and take your place among the shadows.

– Chloe 352 [for Audun, 120yf]