I'm going to roll some story ideas I have bouncing around in my brain and computer to my blog because. What are blogs for?
Anyway I'm sensitive about my ish like any "artist" might be and sharing aint easy, but I am not afraid.
So here's one person there are many, anyone want to help tell me a "Universal" African term for warrior goddess magician I sure would love the help.
We aren’t raped in battle.
We either come out the other end with our foes' spirits in our service or we leave to join our ancestors.
So, what is this person doing inside me shaking me awake?
What is with his hue?
He’s not wearing a paint people like my sisters and I imbue with knowledge and power why is he so pale?
I remember now the glance.
There was a rock one that had a very powerful charm attached to it because it went through not just my own but my sister’s defenses, several of whom have the power of scores of ancestors behind them,
Something, one, all, very powerful put me here wherever this is.
The rocking it’s more than this man inside me we’re on a ship.
I look left to a warrior laid out chained feet and hands and I think at him with intent.
“Brother where we are what is this place?”
He was just a baby barely old enough to have his penis cut in the tradition of the male conspiracy we women were not a part of, but he was old enough to recognize what was happening to me and what I was if not who.
“A ship Mundunga” he grunted through broken teeth
“We lost we’re headed across the middle passage”
“We’re all fucked just like you”
A very concise report of our position for someone who had probably only been in a few battles if any, he did know enough to use the title of my position, but he didn’t know if I were healer or mover.
I whisper the syllables that make the vibration that make the wood of this place embrace the water with the love absent from the thing that is performing on my tied up body right now.
The water on a molecular level no longer recognizes the 99% of the wood that is not just air and as I embrace the idea, the ship we’re on with 30 of these White things I sense and 400 defeated warriors I feel in various stages of disrepair, dives for the bottom of the sea like a raptor bird after a very fat rabbit.
I look left and the young warrior is smiling
“Thank you Mundunga” he mouths
It was the least I can do how we got in this position, defeated broken with me here just.
“Intolerable” I mouth.
The thing on top of me him I have clasped in my legs like a crab. I’m watching him scream out the bubbles of his life, but I’m not done with him even as his lifeless penis is done with me.
I think at him with much intent
“Welcome to eternity”
With the last thoughts on this plane of existence I show him what’s in store for him for we are Mundunga we are in contact with what is was and will be, he will go in service of those to come and until then he’s going to service the ancestors. They hold games that last millennia just torturing the souls of people that cross over with the vibration I’m imparting to him now.
Oh look it’s hitting him now game on.
I’ll make sure to ask him about it if it hurts in the next world.
When I’m sure I’ve seen the warriors I should of protected in battle over the trial of the water I’ve started I’ll go myself.
I think of the ancestors my direct line of warrior sisters and sages. Will those behind me hear my stories? Will they accept me?
Will I get to play when I get there or will they reject me or put me through another trial, Oh our Creator will I be forced to come back to live another life on Earth even having achieved Mundunga.
The ship has been on the bottom some time now.
The time for daydreams of what will happen are over and its time to face what will with the dignity of not just my office but my ancestors.
My warriors are asleep forever to this plane and at last I can think the words that make the vibrations that end this understanding of time.
That's one part. Someone comment if you wanna see more otherwise ima just mess around in my blog cause
HEY WHAT ARE BLOGS FOR?