Harry & Meghan… Ball’s In Your Court.

Duke & Duchess of Sussex

Now that you have been to London and ‘they’ have royally torn their collective arse at you both – the seating at St. Paul’s Cathedral was as low as you could go. It is time, Harry, that you resolve to wash your hands of these people and throw the kitchen sink at them.

Revenge for Oprah Interview

Roya Nikkhah of the Times of London stated during her commentary on BBC that the Duke & Duchess of Sussex were seated where they were second row across the aisle from the Cambridges and Waleses because they had stepped back as working royals. Never mind that directly ahead of them were the Wessexes with their children who for having toured the Caribbean earlier this year, ought to have been sat close to the senior royals on the other side of the aisle.

Union Jack & Confederate Flag

How stupid indeed are the Cambridges? Do these two and their supporters not realise that in having the minor Kents, who are not official working royals, sat close to Charles & William and ahead of the Wessexes who were sat amongst the non-working royals, they actually gave more than the crown jewels to the Sussexes? It was unforgiveable to have worn the blackamoor brooch to HM The Queen’s Christmas lunch in 2017, then to have shown up to the Sussexes’ wedding was beyond the pale. However, to sit her racist hide ahead of the Wessexes to show just how you – senior royals Charles & Camilla along with William & Catherine – feel about the Black woman will only play in the Sussexes’ favour in America. That was vile, deliberately racist and gives the Sussexes more ammo than they could ever have hoped for. Harry’s memoir is going to blow the lid off and the deliberate placement of HRH Princess Michael of Kent only betrays how the BRF do not give a living frig about their smug racism and that most definitely will not fly in America. Americans, not just Black Americans, have a very visceral reaction to bigotry, repeated bigotry and have no desire to host racists of any kind, royal or otherwise. Britons have proven themselves no less repugnant and racist than those who worship the confederate flat. What the Cambridges and Cornwalls gave both Harry & Meghan in having sat the minor, non working royal Kents close by, showed that they approve of the open racism represented by the blackamoor brooch. What these fools have afforded Harry & Meghan is worth way more in PR gold than the crown jewels. Run with it!

Racist Fraulein Arrives in Rolls Royce to St. Paul’s Approved by the Cambridges & Hollywood

Naturally, there was no room for the Wessexes because sat closer to the senior royals, was none other than HRH Princess Michael of Kent – indeed, she of the blackamoor brooch – her husband, her children which included HRH Prince William Duke of Cambridge’s best friend, Lord Frederick Windsor and his Jewish wife who works in Hollywood. Also, the racist boor who sported the blackamoor brooch at HM The Queen’s 2017 Christmas Lunch arrived at St. Paul’s Cathedral for HM The Queen’s thanksgiving service to mark her Platinum Jubilee by stately Rolls Royce, which one would expect the Sussexes to have arrived in, had they not been racially preyed on and driven out of the kingdom. Naturally, in having sat the minor Kents so close to the Cambridges and Cornwalls only proves that the blackamoor brooch incident was not an innocent accident of which the minor royal claimed ignorance.

Let’s just keep it real on who the Cambridges are and who exactly HRH Princess Michael of Kent truly is. Her father was a Nazi SS officer. After she was made to pay market value for their 16-room apartment at Kensington Palace, they sold their country manor, Nether Lypiatt; it was there that clearly Jurassic-gened, racist princess kinder Nazi kept two black sheep on her estate, which she quaintly named, Venus and Serena – you simply cannot make this shit up. Further, whilst dining at a restaurant in Manhattan’s Greenwich Village, Princess Michael approached the table where five Black Americans were boisterously dining, slammed her hand on the table and asked, “Why don’t you go back to the colonies?” Like every racist White, she cowardly denied having said any such thing.

TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge

Also, as stated by Roya Nikkhah, the Sussexes walked the aisle of St. Paul’s Cathedral alone as nothing The Queen does is by coincidence. All British media and biographers writing about Megxit have consistently ignored the deliberate racist attack on Meghan by Princess Michael of Kent, which clearly had the backing of the Cambridges. Having been returned to the isle of rabid racists, the royals chose to thoroughly wipe arse with you both, Meghan & Harry, by having the Michaels of Kent sat closest to the senior royals. Hell, even the Duke of Gloucester arrived to St. Paul’s Cathedral in a mere Jaguar rather than Rolls Royce.

Sophie Winkleman & Lord Frederick Windsor, William’s Best Mate

Not allowed on the balcony at trooping the colour and since Camilla HRH Duchess of Cornwall whilst at Horse Guards parade refused to take to the recessed balcony, therefore no one else could; thus, she prevented Meghan & Harry from being seen. Not entertained at Guild Hall after the service at St. Paul’s, neither were they allowed in the royal box at the Concert on the Mall, which was a god awful mess save for Alicia Keys plus the spectacular light show and phenomenal drone display. Similarly, the final Jubilee event, the pageant, came and went without the Sussexes being invited.

Some Breeding That
9 Toxic Deluge Whilst In Utero
Oh Mummy Dearest… Get Off Me!
Your Dark Heart’s Secret, Blackamoor Brooch – Poisoned Your Womb.
The Double Negative Denial Was Disproved, As Intended, During Platinum Jubilee

As the Cambridges, in their embittered marriage – cue Prince Louis’ lunatic acting out, could not wait to send signals to Hollywood where they will be touring later this year, we do not want you employing that Black woman who pulled the race card, when “we are very much not a racist family” – all of which was revealed a damn lie at the St. Paul’s platinum jubilee service of thanksgiving, I say to hell with these people. The greatest pain that you will experience in life, will more likely than not come from family. Looking to all the world as though “Straight the fuck out of Compton.” Thank the good lord that Prince Louis is not Meghan’s child as there would be no end of racist slights about his savage, uncivilised behaviour.

HRH Prince Louis of Cambridge’s 4th Birthday Photo, Taken by Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge

Most of all, there was Prince Louis at the Jubilee Pageant, acting like a reincarnated crack whore who overdosed in Compton. That’s what you get for plotting and scheming with the minor Kents. You may have thought it delicious fun to have had that flat-arsed, eurotrash clown sport the blackamoor brooch; however, how in the hell could all that 9 toxicity not have affected Louis all 9 months whilst in utero? Furthermore, karma is impartial, exacting… unforgiving. Catherine is an excellent photographer with a keen eye. The reason for the featured photograph not showing Louis’ entire body is that a key giveaway of spectrum persons is that they, more than most, prefer sitting with their legs gather and folded beneath them. Perfectionist Catherine, 9 energy body, is desperately trying to control the narrative and hide this generation’s ‘Prince John.’

As his two balcony appearances and royal box plus carriage ride betrayed, Prince Louis is a compromised human and the direct karmic result of them: Charles & Camilla, William & Catherine in tandem with the minor Kents, having fucked with Meghan and all throughout her pregnancy – the move to Frogmore Cottage by the Sussexes rather than live next-door to Catherine and toxic husband but another example of a monstrous 9 energy, which resulted in the in utero, Prince Louis being born mentally dysfunctional. One-year-old August Brooksbank did not behave at the platinum jubilee pageant like Prince Louis did on the balcony at Trooping the Colour in 2019. Lena Tindall is a three-year-old and was not the volatile unstable monster that Louis was whilst also attending the platinum jubilee pageant. Catherine was utterly embarrassed by Louis. Catherine is a warrior soul with toxic energy body of 9 -these people do not suffer defects, faults, imperfections of any kind near them, yet, Prince Louis is her son.

HRH Prince Louis of Cambridge 23.4.2018 Dog 5.9.2 = 7

Prince Louis will be groomed to be a bigot like his father with 9 in the second position. He will never grow up thanks to his 2 (pronounced child ego state) in the third position and with 7 in the fourth position, though, it usually takes more than one 7 – as in the case of his paternal grandmother, Diana, Princess of Wales, Louis does run the risk of being eliminated by his parent(s) for being a damn embarrassment.

Duke & Duchess of Windsor

Incidentally, as with Edward VIII, 23.6.1894 Horse 5.2.7 = 6, Louis has both 5 & 2 in his numerology; this combo is like quicksilver and such persons can never be perceived as mentally balanced. They can with intense behaviour modification and pharmaceuticals be deemed fairly civilised, though, at their expense. Louis has 3 numbers in common with his father; his father’s placement of that 5 is a keen indicator of sexual scandal… all in due course.

TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge

More to the point, the similarities between Edward VIII and today’s senior royals is quite simple. Edward was a Nazi sympathiser for which he was removed. Whereas the same bigotry was at play whereby TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge used the minor Kent royals to sport the blackamoor brooch as a display of their racial animus towards Meghan, Duchess of Sussex and Blacks. All this has a connection to Hollywood where were it not for the terror attacks of 9/11, Halle Berry would not have won best actress Oscar and 20 years on, there has been no repeat. Anyway darling, karma is a big black bitch who took one look at the blackamoor gang and decided to serve you a lifetime side order of schadenfreude (Prince Louis). As you were told on taking your vows, “The secrets of all hearts shall be revealed.” In due course, all the palace intrigues, all the communiqués, texts and subterfuge will surface, whether during your lives or after. History will prove that the Cambridges were truly the product of their very toxic numbers.

Baby Mango’s Mama

God only knows Prince Louis’ dysfunctional behaviour surely speaks to a harmonious home and a couple truly in love. Clearly, the Cambridges have more in common with Wallis & Edward than do Harry & Meghan anything in common with the Duke & Duchess of Windsor. The Windsors were forced out for being Nazi sympathisers and the Duke of Sussex left their service to the crown rather than be bullied by anti-Black racist royals, tabloid media and royal household staffers.

You cannibalise and socially eliminate the Black duchess and karma had you pay in kind for delivering a baby whose circuitry was jammed on all that negativity, surrounding your racially predatory obsession with eliminating Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Though pregnant, Catherine’s negativity towards Meghan was clearly palpable and as we know from the Oprah interview not just unhealthy for both, Meghan and Harry.

One Big Happy Family Mon Blasted Cul!

“…when the perception and the reality are two very different things and you’re being judged on the perception but you’re living the reality of it, there’s a complete misalignment,” Meghan, Duchess of Sussex.

HRH Prince Louis of Cambridge Royal Terror

Pay attention to the second video. At the 01:09 minute mark, HRH Prince George of Cambridge looks across and past his father to Prince Louis. An 8 year-old boy gives a look that says that for the Cambridges, Louis has been dismissed as crazy. Louis lacks awareness and more than sticking out his tongue to his mother, lip readers have already validated that Louis told his mother, Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge to fuck off. Regardless how they try and wrap this behaviour up in a golden bow and make excuses, Louis is a very realistic comment on the state of his parents’ marriage and the fact that his entire passage in utero was spent being overwhelmed by the hatefulness and vile racialised machinations his parents were engaged in. There are tens of millions of 4 year old boys on the planet and none of the normal 4 year old boys behave as Prince Louis did; even the Prime Minister’s wife Carrie looked on at mother and son’s interactions and was clearly disturbed by what she witnessed. Prince Harry was a cheeky youngster; however, he never was an angry, hostile and frightening terror.

Danny DeVito & Chris Kattan Saturday Night Live

Isle of rabid zombified sycophants… what are these people on about? ‘Louis is so adorable’ then 7 days later, ‘he just had too much sugar’ Child please! That is neither cute behaviour nor a loved child. Don’t know what they were smoking but it damn well looked like twelve variations on Mango!

HRH Prince William Duke of Cambridge

A week after the embarrassing Tasmanian devil escaping the Windsor dungeon chock full of skeletons, along comes desperate Willy, getting down with the social lepers. You can fool no one, especially when not the swiftest of souls. Forever and a day, ever trying to pull the wool over the somnambulant fools’ eyes.

HM The Queen Trooping the Colour 2022

The only fitting response to these people, who chose a racist boor over family, based on the seating at St. Paul’s Cathedral, is quite simple. On HM The Queen’s passing, do not, Meghan, set foot in England to attend her funeral. She will be dead and if she truly did know and approve of the seating arrangements at St. Paul’s Cathedral then all the more reason to not go – HM The Queen did not plan the Platinum Jubilee celebrations. In an uneclipsed salvo, the Cambridges made it clear that Harry & Meghan are not wanted back.

To that end, they whored out the kids at Trooping the Colour where their lastborn, clearly on the spectrum, proved himself an utter embarrassment. They then trotted them out to Wales, minus the social freak, and again to the concert on the Mall; all this, whilst ignoring the invitation to drop by on the day to Frogmore Cottage and wish Lilibet happy birthday. Last day of jubilee celebrations and just in case you were prepared to self-gaslight and say Prince Louis really was not that bad, along comes reincarnated crack whore Shaniqua, keeping it real with the Jerry Springer hair pulling and telling his mama to fuck off. Of course, Lilibet is not of Jewish heritage, so far be it from the Cambridges to give a damn. All this is reminiscent of the kids being taken to service on Christmas Day 2019 after the Queen’s message wherein the Sussexes were nowhere to be seen in photos. All along, no matter how the Sussexes delude themselves into thinking that HM The Queen is an allay, she has been all along, keeping them closer rather than not as one does one’s enemies.

Prince Harry’s Eureka Moment at St. Paul’s Cathedral

Come an Harry, man up. Throw the goddamn kitchen sink at the lot of them. You are Diana’s son and though Camilla threw out there, in her ongoing war against Diana, Princess of Wales, that Hewitt is Harry’s father, you could in your Memoir allude to King Juan Carlos and the discarded lovechild in Australia, who of late won’t keep his damn yap shut. Time to tear the arse at these vipers and get on with living your lives. No one spits at Americans. You’ve a beautiful family to provide for. There is much material from this trip for Netflix to work with and BET or Tyler Perry’s studios can also run with the production of Pearl.

Duke & Duchess of Sussex

The one error in the Oprah interview is that the blackamoor brooch was not discussed, which left Meghan exposed to being accused of having played the race card; it is the one part of the puzzle that all Whites in the media conveniently gloss over. God only knows, Whites never admit to being possessed of anti-Black racial animus; they ever suffer collective white amnesia whereby one never remembers unpleasant aspects of the past and especially as it relates to one’s heritage of being racially predatory. With the Michaels of Kent placement at St. Paul’s Cathedral, the gloves are well and truly off. Name names and get on with it! They have assured you a blockbuster New York Times bestseller by their invidious staging at St. Paul’s Cathedral.

Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge

As the saying goes, you shall know a woman by her seed and Prince Louis deftly betrays where Catherine’s heart is focussed towards Meghan – her racialised animus towards Meghan, resulted in Prince Louis becoming mentally damaged whilst in utero. When TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge come touring America later in 2022, after having signalled to the Hollywood few, who did not approve of the schwarze leap-frogging ahead of the minor Kents’ darling daughter-in-law, simply pick up and leave America.

Not that one needs to; however, Catherine is ever keen to telegraph just where her preference lies.

You, Prince Harry, have the only family that matters, the ones you choose along life’s journey. Gather the entire family and come to Toronto, you’ve got family here. You will be seen on their IG about town – nothing as gauche as CN Tower shots, then you can take your darling kids to your family’s hometown of Montréal. You’ve got choices aplenty, take the family to your soul brother’s ranch in Argentina and be on their IG, practising polo whilst the Cambridges are in America; this is the only fitting response to their arse-tearing crassness in the placement of the blackamoor brooch-wearing, flat-arsed, kinder Nazi. If William had not betrayed his own brother by putting up his best friend’s hideous mother to sport a racist brooch to placate and trigger his brother’s unacceptable Black affianced, none of this would have transpired. Certainly, Catherine’s third pregnancy would not have resulted in such a toxically shrill monster.

Meghan & Harry

For absolutely nothing and ever, should you be in the same country as that toxic pair, whom you seem unaware do not consider you family. Having the racist boor sat closer to the two future sovereigns than the Wessexes at the platinum jubilee thanksgiving service at St. Paul’s Cathedral, is reason enough for Meghan not to attend, HM The Queen’s funeral, Charles’ coronation, Charles’ funeral and Williams’ coronation. You’ve all the family you need.. protect them.

Again, genetics always expose the truth. Prince Harry has redheaded offspring as did his mum, Diana, Princess of Wales’ every sibling. There is William with the Bourbon flat-foot and tiny ears traits and no redhead offspring. No redhead offspring because maple leafs do not produce acorns. A truly masterful photograph of Lilibet by Misan Harriman.

That’s All They Are to You… Tuchus Lekkers

You’re not missing bugger all. Not for a nanosecond should you be around such dense-energied, toxic racially predatory boors. Meghan is, of course, possessed of master numbers of 11; think of Kim Kardashian, slapping her sister who stepped out of line. Master number of 11 are second to no one and so too will it be with Lilibet Diana.

Le 456, 456 rue de la Gauchetière Ouest

Here are two examples of master number 11 at work, as I do possess said master number (11). Shortly on arriving in Montréal, late 1990s, I went cruising at the funky bathhouse at 456 rue de la Gauchetière Ouest. Returned to my place on rue Goyer between Wilderton and Darlington, I soon asked the hook up to get out of my house. I knew that he was Jewish – not that it mattered; however, he kept on peppering his banter with decidedly anti-Black observations, which he somehow assumed, I would either find funny or condone by way of ignoring. When abruptly asked to get out of my house, he demanded to know what made me upset, “Not all Jews are White, some actually are Black; just as not all Jews are bigots but clearly some are… come on, get the fuck out of my house!” He made to apologise but too little too late. A couple nights later, I brought another hot piece of arse back to rue Goyer, only to have this fucknut, start spewing anti-Semitic bile about how much he hated those goddamn people – Côte-des-Neiges has a sizeable Hassidic population. As my decisions are always swift, I got him to get undressed in the living room and began making out; then told him to go rinse off as I was not munching his soiled arse. No sooner than he was in the shower, I grabbed his clothes and shoes, took them onto the balcony from the bedroom and tossed them to the ground three floors below. Returning, I went to the shower, turned up the hot water; he screamed and hopped out, demanding to know what the fuck was going on. “I don’t like being around anyone using language like ‘nigger this, nigger that’ and most definitely, neither do I tolerate vile ‘kike this, kike that’…” lethally, I hissed that his clothes were in the back lane. Heading to the door, I ripped my towel off him, opened the door and told him to get the fuck out of my house…. now. He went out the front of the building, covering his readily forgettable jewels. Going to the balcony, I tossed down the can of Labatt’s Blue beer and told him that he forgot to take his drink. Master number of 11 persons never tolerate shit… of any kind.

Angela Levin

Every day this malignant yenta gets and hogs a mic, blasting the Sussexes and acting as though she has any direct contact with either the Sussexes or royals. She blithers on, her manic depressive whine a real gnawing put-through. Always, she stares everything that happens, alleged to have happened to demonstrate that the Sussexes are losing and that they are about to be sacked by Netflix. She is just such a boldfaced liar; her main objective is to incite and perpetuate anti-Black racism among the gullible masses. Like Orly Taitz before her, she knows that for telling a lie and insisting on demonising the object of her invidious campaign, she will cause doubt, disbelief and incite hatred all based on the fact that once you tell a lie on someone Black, you are less likely to be doubted. Look at the ugly anti-Black racism that Taitz engaged in, insisting with fiendish terror that Barack Obama should not be elected U. S. President. Taitz cast doubt in gullible Americans’ minds by alleging that Obama’s birth certificate was fake rather than stating fact: the goddamn schwarze has no right to be America president. That campaign of lies, replete with a plethora of legal challenges, gave rise to the Birther movement, which led to the President’s two terms being met with unprecedented opposition in congress. This also gave birth to an even bigger liar, Donald Trump, who eventually won the White House. President Trump’s lies led to an insurrection as he refused to accept that he had lost his re-election campaign in 2020. Just imagine if President Obama had incited his followers to launch a siege on the Capitol, if he had lost his re-election campaign in 2012. Today, President Obama would be in jail if not sentenced to death for treason. Yet this bovine hateful White male, Donald Trump, whose flat skull in the back speaks to his being focussed exclusively in the reptilian brain and likely never having matured beyond it, pompously walks around spreading more lies and exhibits an air of entitlement because as a White male, it is behaviour that his fellow Americans deem perfectly acceptable.

Duke & Duchess of Sussex

Just as much as all Jews are not White, just as importantly, all Jews are not possessed of racial animus towards Blacks despite the Orly Taitzes and Angela Levins. Angela Levin knows damn well the offence that the blackamoor brooch caused the Sussexes because of its decidedly racist symbolism. She has known all along of the pain that this insult has caused the Sussexes. Angela is not stupid and she has to know that the Cambridges sanctioned it. Then when Princess Michael of Kent and family are sat so closes to the Cambridges, in an obvious slight against the Sussexes, all Angela Levin can do is daily incite anti-Black racism by further making unfavourable pronouncement about the Sussexes. Everything that Angela Levin does is pure propaganda; it is designed to make the masses unaware that at the heart of the blackamoor brooch incident is deep anti-Black racism that is not without its grudging connection by way of Lord Frederick Windsor’s Hollywood associations. As Jews cannot be seen to have any part of this racist scandal, Angela will night and day falsely accuse and make misleading assertions about the Sussexes. When then London mayor, Boris Johnson criticised President Obama for removing Winston Churchill’s bust from the White House’s oval office, he did so as an attack on President Obama for being Black and certainly Boris’ Kenyan remark validated this. Boris was pissed off at a Black being American president. What right does any Briton’s bust have to be in the White House? I am quite certain no American president’s bust has ever graced 10 Downing Street and never will. What Angela Levin has to assume responsibility for, is the anti-Black racism she incites, which had two podcasters prosecuted for their racist attack on the Sussexes and calling for both Archie & Harry to be assassinated. There is no way in high hell that Angela Levin would have been unrelentingly attacking the Sussexes if Harry had taken a Jewish bride as Lord Frederick Windsor did and she were subjected to anti-Semitism. Angela Levin is among the most vile, odious ‘royal expert’ because she, in her campaign of vilification of the Sussexes is the most ardent propagandist and apologist for the Cambridges, HRH Princess Michael of Kent and family. Of course we all know what insights Aatish Taseer, former lover of Gabriela Kingston née Windsor, Lord Frederick’s sister, shared about the real face of the Kents.

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Harry & Meghan at Skippy’s Wedding

March 2017

Let’s then review the timeline of events, which shows the real underlying currents and politics afoot. Whilst still officially a cast member on Suits, Meghan and Harry flew to Jamaica for Tom ‘Skippy’ Inskip and Lara Hughes-Young’s destination wedding.

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Pippa Middleton-Matthews & Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge

May 20, 2017

On that day, Catherine’s sister, Pippa married James Matthews and one of the stipulations of the wedding was that only wedded women could attend the church service. This was soon proven bogus when HRH Princess Eugenie of York attended the wedding’s service with Jack Brooksbank to whom she was not yet wedded. Meghan, however, was allowed to attend the wedding reception and was never seen. The year prior, news broke of Prince Harry and Meghan’s relationship and straight away the racist attacks began.

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Meghan & Harry Toronto

September 2017

It’s official, Meghan and Harry go public with their relationship in Hogtown. The photo-op at Toronto City Hall during the Invictus Game created quite the buzz. Clearly, they were moving towards an engagement announcement at which point, staunch bigots were saying that clearly HM The Queen was suffering dementia and there had to be an intervention. Oh Louella, clutch your pearls.

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HRH Prince Harry & Meghan Markle BBC Interview with Mishal Husain

November 27, 2017

This is the event, the engagement interview with BBC that launched a tsunami of racist hatred that has remained unabated. Here, Meghan displayed a forthrightness, emotional intelligence, intellect and eloquence, which was in vast contrast to Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge. There was no denying that Meghan was possessed of greater charisma (she does have a Venus/Solar body type); nonetheless, the knives were out. This, of course, was in vast contrast to Prince William and Catherine’s engagement interview seven years earlier.

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HRH Princess Michael of Kent

December 20, 2017

At HM The Queen’s annual Christmas lunch, Meghan was invited as a fiancée to the Buckingham Palace event and accompanied by Prince Harry. It was then that the blackamoor brooch made its appearance for which the racist, kinder Nazi dog speciously apologised days later and feigned ignorance that the brooch could possibly have given offence to the African-American future bride of Prince Harry’s – so said the racist boor who called black sheep on her Gloucestershire farm, Venus and Serena. Serena should have walked up to her at Frogmore House during the Sussexes wedding reception and bleated like an enraged sheep, turned and walked away. In 2003, the Kent minor royal gave an interview in which she stated that her son, Lord Frederick Windsor, did not have a drug problem and had only done cocaine once; if only because he had been filmed snorting cocaine back in 1999. At the time, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales made a point of distancing his son, HRH Prince William from Lord Frederick as they were known to be best friends.

Sophie Winkleman, Lady Frederick Windsor

By December 2017 William and Lord Frederick remained best friends and at that point, Frederick was wedded to British born Jew, Sophie Winkelman who by the time that Meghan entered the scene had been working in Hollywood as an actress where she appeared on Two and a Half Men a TV comedy series, starring Ashton Kutcher whose wife Mila Kunis was said to be friends of the Windsors. One very interesting fact, Sophie is a very solid, no nonsense customer. With three 4s to her numerological makeup, I should think that she would find the Kents racist conduct unsettling. She is a straight up real human. She would have three, where most would have a single, side hustle going on. Gossip serves no purpose for her. Her sole 5 is in first position and would be used to channel when in character as an actor. She is controlled; at times, too inclined to not extend herself – with these numbers – 5.4.4 = 4, she is one of the most sane royals. Certainly, it cannot be easy for her to know first-hand the dirty pool at play in her husband’s family. She will know to keep mum and focus on her duties as parent. With three 4s, she will always think before opening her mouth, painstakingly deliberates before any venture. Most of all, she does have a conscience and a sound moral compass.

Meghan & Harry Christmas 2017, Sandringham

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Thomas Markle Sr.

May 2018

On the eve of the royal wedding in 2018, Thomas Markle Sr. pulls out, claiming a health crisis.

Royal Wedding TRH Duke & Duchess of Sussex

May 18, 2018

As would emerge later in 2021, Catherine’s rude behaviour towards Meghan left the Black American bride-to-be in tears as she was not wanted. This does seem in keeping with Catherine banning Meghan from her sister, Pippa’s wedding exactly one year prior. Of course, the Cambridges, and Prince Charles were socially rude and dismissive of Meghan and her culture as witnessed after Charles returned to the quire, having signed the registry at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle at the Sussexes’ wedding. Shockingly, after her racist attacked on Meghan at Buckingham Palace, the vulgar Princess Michael of Kent had the gall to show up at the wedding, if only because wherever there is a freebie and she gets to let the world know that she is royal, there she will be smugly grinning her stupid face off.

Angela Kelly

In the lead up to the wedding, HM The Queen’s dresser, Angela Kelly stood up Meghan for a tiara fitting; this was another sign of the ongoing campaign of harassment and bullying engaged in by royal household staffers and royals alike.

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Duke & Duchess of Sussex and HM The Queen as Ascot

June, 2018

The racial predatory fixation on the Duchess of Sussex was palpable. It would prove the only time that she would attend royal Ascot.

HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge Jerusalem

Like everyone possessed of a 9 mindset, William is no different. His worldview is clearly legible. He openly ridiculed his brother’s wife’s culture at their wedding a month prior. Until their April 2022 platinum jubilee tour of Belize and the Caribbean, TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge declined touring predominantly Black commonwealth nations. His best friend’s mother wears a blackamoor brooch, which clearly is connected to his wife’s career in Hollywood. That woman, über kinder Nazi, having given gross offence to Blacks, then attends their wedding and if the open hostilities were not enough, the Sussexes only appearance at the platinum jubilee celebrations were at at St. Paul’s Cathedral where they were deliberately slighted by having the racially predatory blackamoor brooch-wearing minor Kents, doing the Cambridges dirty work, were sat closer to the two senior sovereign heirs, in violation of protocol, than other more senior royals. Conveniently, HM The Queen chose not to attend the church service; perhaps, to show her disproval or feign not being directly involved, which of course was not the case.

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HRH Princess Eugenie of York’s Wedding

October 12, 2018

HRH Princess Eugenie’s lovely wedding to Jack Brooksbank. Here, Meghan is pregnant and on the eve of sharing that she is pregnant with her firstborn Archie. Look at Meghan a more seasoned performer, knowing that the cameras are rolling does not get sucked in by Catherine’s fake chatter as she tries outshining Meghan to the guests across the quire at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor.

The Sussexes conduct their first royal tour which proved them exceptionally popular and well-received. This did not go unnoticed by the senior royals with a grudge of Meghan, namely the Cambridges.

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Duchess of Sussex at Cenotaph; Photograph Taken by Me
Myself at Cenotaph November 11, 2018, Holding Up Camera to Left of Man in Red Jacket

November 11, 2018

I took the preceding photograph and stood opposite the balcony where Meghan, Duchess of Sussex stood next to the German President’s wife at the Cenotaph. I had never experienced open hatred publicly as I did that day. It was all directed at the African-American on the balcony; it would prove her first of only two appearances at the event.

Camilla Tominey, THR Duke & Duchess of Cambridge’s Chosen Liar & Character Assassin

A couple of weeks later, Camilla Tominey of the Daily Telegraph published a story about Meghan having made Catherine cry, a response which the latter’s numerology would never support. This story was part of the campaign begun at sabotaging the Sussexes as a result of their successful Australia et al tour, which was their first official royal tour.

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Meghan, Duchess of Sussex

December 2018

Meghan, Duchess of Sussex on December 10, 2018 presented Best Female Fashion Designer award at the Royal Albert Hall to Clare Waight Keller who designed her stunning wedding dress for Givenchy. There is part of the power of Meghan and why TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge so fear her; a mic in the hand of Meghan is the start of watching a most beautiful flower blossom before your eyes every time. For Catherine, it is and will ever remain but Kryptonite.

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Prince Philip, Harry, HM The Queen, Doria, Archie & Meghan

May 2019

Archie is born and here he is presented to his great-grandparents HM The Queen and her consort, Prince Philip. Interestingly, the day that the news broke of the royal baby’s name on returning to the studio, BBC presenter, Jon Sople stated to a colleague on-air, ‘my friend has a dog named Archie,’ which was good for a vicious chuckle. Some people.

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Duchess of Sussex in Conversation with Tom Bradby

September 2019

Meghan commits the cardinal sin and let’s on that things are not as they seem and that she has been desperately struggling to cope. Of course, this interview with Tom Brady occurred at the end of their very successful South African tour where Archie was seen for the first time.

HRH Princess Charlotte of Cambridge First Day of School

Princess Charlotte’s first day of school where her older brother attends. They attend the school in Battersea as it is the school to which his best friend’s, Lord Frederick Windsor, children are enrolled. Lord Frederick’s wife is, a British Jew who works in Hollywood as an TV actress, the daughter-in-law of Princess Michael of Kent, who infamously wore the blackamoor brooch. Life is about being callously aware enough to make the necessary rigorous connections.

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Catherine Brushes Off William

December 2019

TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge on the BBC Christmas special A Berry Royal Christmas; yet another sign that this marriage is a chaotic, volatile mess but far be it from the fairy story-loving serfs to notice anything remotely resembling reality.

HM The Queen’s Christmas Message 2019

Whilst the Sussexes were holidaying in Canada, the annual Christmas message was aired to much hushed whispers. There were the photographs and not a single one of the Sussexes’ firstborn, Archie born earlier that year. Afterwards, the Sovereigns’ photographs ( HM King George VI, HM The Queen, HRH Prince Charles, Prince of Wales, HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge and HRH Prince George of Cambridge) was followed by the two senior Cambridge children on their first walkabout in Sandringham after Christmas Day service. Of course, none of this was coincidental, HM The Queen was preparing the public fot the Sussexes ouster from the royal family.

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Sussexes at Canada House

January 2020

On returning from their holiday break in Canada, the Sussexes visit Canada House then officially announce that they are stepping back as working senior royals. Before you know what’s next, HM The Queen strips them of their patronages and Harry his official military titles. Thank god, Harry had the Invictus Games in his clutches when the dust was settled.

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Commonwealth Service 2020

March 2020

With Harry flying back and forth between England and Vancouver Island, the couple returned in early March to wrap up their royal commitments. Three spectacular outfits and Catherine did not waste time in deliberately ignoring Meghan, though, William nodded in Harry & Meghan’s direction. Yet another clue as to who really made whom cry.

In mid-March, the Sussexes were flown by Tyler Perry to a residence of his in Los Angeles so that they can start charting their new life journey.

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Sussexes Santa Barbara Estate

August 2020

Meghan, Harry & Archie purchase home in Montecito, Santa Barbara. That summer Meghan shared that she suffered a miscarriage.

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Netflix

September 2020

Harry & Meghan sign production deal with Netflix in collaboration with Archewell their foundation’s production company division.

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New York Times Op-Ed

November 2020

Meghan, Duchess of Sussex writes Op-ed piece in nation’s leading newspaper, The New York Times, and writes of her miscarriage in July that year.

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Sussex Family 2020 Christmas Card

December 2020

The Sussexes along with Archie and dogs seasonal card.

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Meghan Duchess of Sussex 2019 Remembrance at Cenotaph

February 2021

Meghan, Duchess of Sussex wins her legal suit against Associated Newspaper! The Sussexes also released a photograph of the family with a very pregnant Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. Buckingham Palace also releases a statement stating that the Sussexes will no longer work on behalf of the royal family.

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Duke & Duchess of Sussex in Interview with Oprah Winfrey
Duke of Cambridge in Impromptu Media Exchange

March 2021

In the most elegant display of controlled anger, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex seized and corrected the narrative; she did not make that woman cry! Also, not only was Meghan definitely pregnant but an exuberant Prince Harry stated that they were having a girl and what a darling human she has proven. Racism at the senior royal level was exposed; of course, we know of the racist minor royal. At the time, I thought that it ought to have been repeated that HRH Princess of Michael of Kent had worn the blackamoor brooch as so many Americans and the global audience would not necessarily have been aware of the incident. Meghan, also revealed her thoughts of suicide at the unrelenting racial animus that she experienced in the British tabloids, the royal households and from some royals with the minor Kent family being wholly culpable. Of course, just like Lord Frederick Windsor’s best friend to come to minor Kents rescue and deny that the royal family could in any way be racist.

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Prince Philip, The Duke of Edinburgh’s Funeral

April 2021

Whilst a very pregnant Meghan, Duchess of Sussex remained in California, Prince Harry attended his paternal grandfather’s funeral at Windsor Castle.

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The Me You Can’t See

May 2021

Meghan, Duchess of Sussex popped in during the mental health docuseries on Apple which Prince Harry undertook with Oprah Winfrey.

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Lilibet Diana’s Reincarnation

June 2021

Lilibet Diana is reborn 4.6.2021 Ox 4.1.6 = 11. Unlike Prince Whackjob Mango, Lilibet has the grooviest numerology. You know too when a couple is in love, it is reflected in offspring’s numerology; Lilibet is perfectly harmonised numerologically with both parents and she has master number of 11. Lookout! They made the right call on leaving and that is deftly reflected in Lilibet’s; numbers.

Mountbatten-Windsor, Lilibet Diana 4/6/2021 Ox 4.1.6 = 11

Michael: This young fragment is a third-level mature sage – second life thereat.  Lilibet is in observation mode with a goal of dominance and has an attitude of idealist. 

Lilibet has neither centreing nor chief features at this time. 

Lilibet’s body type is Mars Mercury. 

The fragment Lilibet is second-cast in the third cadence.  Lilibet is a member of greater cadence four.  Lilibet is a member of entity two, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418.  (Adjacent entity, same cadre as her father, mother, brother, Prince George and The Queen). 

Lilibet’s essence twin is a sage and the task companion a warrior incarnate at this time.  

Lilibet’s needs are exchange, communion, adventure. 

She has shared 8 past-life associations with Arvin and 5 with Merlin.

There is an agreement with the older brother for emotional support.

This fragment has been a revered performer in a recent past incarnation,

primarily operatic but with some aspect of light entertainment. She was also present in several lives of note in european aristocracy (Italy and Spain) End (August, 2021).

The Bench. Meghan, The Duchess of Sussex

Meghan, Duchess of Sussex publishes children’s book, The Bench.

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Unveiling of Diana Statue

July, 2021

Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex returns to London for unveiling of memorial statue on the occasion of Diana, Princess of Wales’ 60th birthday. The statue is at the sunken garden at Kensington Palace. HRH Prince William, Duke of Cambridge was also present, along with Diana’s two sisters.

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Meghan, Duchess of Sussex 40th Birthday

August 2021

My favourite photograph of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex as there is a veneer of Margaret Beaufort, Tudor matriarch, mother of HM King Henry VII, grandmother to HM King Henry VIII & great-grandmother of HM Queen Elizabeth I. Obviously, for this accomplished reincarnated soul, she chose the wrong race – as far as the kingdom’s White tribe is concerned and that’s that. At the time of her 40th birthday, there was talk that she had been snubbed and not invited to President Obama’s 60th birthday celebrations. How stupid can people be? For one, Meghan had given birth two months prior; for another, it was a milestone birthday for both individuals.

Windsor, Meghan HRH Duchess of Sussex 4/8/1981

Michael: This fragment is a mid-cycle mature artisan in the tradition of the deceased mother-in-law fragment who was Diana, Princess of Wales — third life thereat.  Meghan is in the observation mode with a goal of acceptance.  An idealist, Meghan is in the moving part of emotional centre. 

Meghan’s primary chief feature is self-deprecation and the secondary of mild impatience. 

Meghan’s body type is Venus/Solar. 

The fragment Meghan is fourth-cast in the fifth cadence.  Meghan is a member of greater cadence four.  Meghan is a member of entity one, cadre six, greater cadre 7, pod 418 — she is an entity mate of both her spouse, HRH Prince Henry of Wales with whom she shares 20 past lives and also an obvious entity mate of Her Majesty, The Queen. 

Meghan’s essence twin is an artisan and the task companion a warrior. 

Meghan’s three primary needs are: expression, acceptance and expansion.

There are 4 past-life associations with Arvin and 6 with Merlin. 

Incidentally, this artisan has been a member of the British royal family twice before.  Firstly, as Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond and Derby, she was the cousin of King Henry VI and mother of King Henry VII.  As such she was the matriarch of the House of Tudor.  Her grandson was Henry VIII and her great-granddaughter, Elizabeth I. 

This artisan in that lifetime was involved in the sacraments of the church being included in the newly established college system.  She founded Christ College, Cambridge and was instrumental with the founding of St. John’s College as well. 

Secondly, she was HRH Prince Edward, Duke of York and Albany and younger brother to George III, whose father the Prince of Wales, HRH Prince Frederick died before acceding the throne after George II.  In that lifetime, the artisan (now Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex) was interested in military structure.  He, of course, died young of a then unknown illness but which had to do with dysentery. 

Incidentally, in the current incarnation, Meghan, HRH Duchess of Sussex has suffered from gastroenteritis, which is related to the last-life health issues – this is the immediate past life and not that in 18th century when the artisan died aged 28.  

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Duke & Duchess of Sussex Headlining Global Citizen’s Concert Live, New York City
Harry & Meghan in the Park

The Duke & Duchess of Sussex made triumphant appearance at the Global Citizen Concert in New York City’s central park.

TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge Attend World Premier of James Bond Film
Thorny War of the Minor Wales
James Bond Premier at Royal Albert Hall

September 2021

In the second video clip from the James Bond film premier, pay attention to the 40 second mark. Catherine arrives at the top of the stairs and greets Camilla, HRH Duchess of Cornwall, looks over to William and cuts her eye at him. She hissed at him throughout their interactions. When their relationship blows up it will be no surprised for those who aren’t gullibly deluded.

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Duke & Duchess of Sussex at St. Paul’s Cathedral

October 2021

Bot Sentinel’s Christopher Bouzy releases report that documented a targeted, racist attack on the Duke & Duchess of Sussex on bot Twitter accounts.

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Barbados Republic Celebrations
Meghan, Duchess of Sussex on Ellen Degeneres

November 2021

Rihanna attends ceremony at which HRH Prince Charles presided at HM The Queen’s removal as head-of-state on the island becoming a republic. Naturally, as she couldn’t carry her defensive parasol at night time, Camilla did not accompany the future sovereign.

Meghan, Duchess of Sussex dropped by the Ellen Degeneres show, with whom she has been familiar for years. Light-hearted, the Duchess was professional, engaging, utterly charming plugged The Bench with a giveaway and also highlighted a small charity, which was awarded funding from the Sussexes’ charity, Archewell.

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Harry, Archie, Meghan & Lilibet. The Sussexes

December 2021

The Sussexes seasonal card for Christmas, 2021.

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Duke & Duchess of Sussex at NAACP Image Awards

February 2022

Harry & Meghan honoured with the President’s Award at the annual NAACP Image Awards. Coming through! Forget the firm and its enslaved timid souls. There is no greater pride than being self-made. Meghan’s been there, done that as have you, Harry, with the success of the Invictus Games. Keep soaring higher still!

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Catherine, HRH Duchess of Cambridge, Jamaica March 2022

March 2022

TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge were on royal tour of the Caribbean where thanks to the obvious racism within the royal family, the blackamoor brooch and the Sussexes’ Oprah interview spring to mind, there were talks aplenty of removing the Crown as head of state and a formal apology by the Duke of Cambridge in Jamaica for the stain that was slavery. Catherine whilst in Belize rudely brushed off a local Black dancer in one of those utterly spontaneous moves that betrays both her bigotry and 9 energy body. Apart from that, Catherine lost herself in her only armour, clothing, that made one think drag king rather than not.

Prince Philip Duke of Edinburgh Service of Thanksgiving, Westminster Abbey

As Prince Andrew was stripped of his royal duties, he escorted his mum, HM The Queen to her seat then sat on the front row. So that he would not be seen to be slighted, he was sat next to the Wessexes, who were the only working royals who sat on that side of the aisle. As per protocol, on HM The Queen’s side of the aisle were the crown prince, HRH Prince Charles & his wife, HRH Princess Anne, The Princess Royal and her bedfellow. They were followed by TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge and their two older children. The minor Kents who were also at the platinum jubilee service at St. Paul’s Cathedral were sat as would be expected; they were, rightly so, sat behind the York Princesses, the Dukes of Gloucester and Kent and their spouses. This, however, was not the case at St. Paul’s as clearly one needed to drive home to the Duke of Sussex and his Black wife, “You can’t take a joke? Tough! We don’t give a fuck, now get lost!”

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Duke & Duchess of Sussex Invictus Games

April 2022

Harry & Meghan opened the very successful Invictus Games at the Hague. Prior to their arrival in the Netherlands, they stopped off at Windsor Castle and visited with HM The Queen.

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Thomas Markle Sr.

May 2022

On the eve of HM The Queen’s platinum jubilee celebrations, old wussmeister turns Stroke-A-Joke and bows out of being hosted on the isle of rabid racist rats by none other then Lady Rotherqueer and that uncouth drag queen, Lord George Nonesuch. In other news, fat-assed baby-seller was dropped by her legal representatives because clearly it is not good for one’s image if one’s client is positively full of shit. Seriously, someone suffering a major stroke should not be able to support their head and upper body or encouraged to by attending paramedics as Markle Sr. is in that photograph, unless of course, it was all staged.

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Sussexes to St. Paul’s Cathedral

June, 2022

After having been hidden from view at Horse Guards Parade the day prior, the Sussexes arrived at St. Paul’s Cathedral to be scowled at by the majority of congregants en route to their seats, which turned out to be vulgar slap in the face. As the seating protocol was scrapped to accommodate the entire minor Kent family, being closest to the Cambridges, Charles & Camilla even more so than the more senior Wessexes. Disgraced, after having escorted his mum, HM The Queen, at Westminster Abbey, Prince Andrew was sat across the aisle in the front row and not the second as were the Sussexes at St. Paul’s and four places in from the aisle. Now Harry has been given the all-clear to throw the sink at the lot in his upcoming memoir.

This placement of the blackamoor brooch-wearing Princess Michael of Kent has ignited talk of removing the crown as head of state in many predominantly Black commonwealth nations. The government of Jamaican has begun the process of removing the crown as head-of-state a week after the platinum jubilee celebrations. Harry & Meghan, the ball’s in your court, step up and give it to them good.

Modern Jazz Quartet – Concert in Jazz

As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

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©2013-2022 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Triple 8s! Now There’s A Recipe for Schadenfreude!

A few years back, a theatre friend came over for dinner – remember those pre-pandemic rituals when that was a thing – and big time insisted that we stop to watch the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Of course, for being a lucid dreamer, I almost never look at TV and only went out and got one, to watch Diana, Princess of Wales’ funeral in September 1997. Et juste comme ça, I was hooked. So glad the Briton was sent packing so full of it and like all Britons in Hollywood, overdoing the hauteur and accent on the ‘Yanks.’ But enough about that.

This season, after last season and Denise Richards promised and supplied nothing, I have actually been watching every episode multiple times. Then this past Wednesday, something clicked, Sutton was being bullied by the cornered, knock-kneed boor and I thought out loud, ‘Holy fuck, why have I never done her numbers all this fucking time? And as the saying goes, Google is your friend and off I went.

Erika Jayne… Numbers never lie and where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Hell the forest is ablaze!

10/7/1971 (Pig) Erika Jayne 1.8.8 = 8.

Clarity before we dive in. This is Vedic numerology, which does not gussy anything up. It deals with the negative manifestation of all numbers 1 through 9 as these are the energies which we are here to transmute during the course of the incarnation. Secondly, the numbers are arranged in quantitative order; in short, a day is less than a month, which in turn, is less than a year. Conversely, the first number – the day of one’s birth represents the energy body. The mind is the day and month and the second number – the way one thinks. The number total of the day and month plus the year is the life path – the third number – and lastly, the fourth is all three numbers totalled, which represents the destiny/soul number… in short what you are here to learn.

1 – energy body – the bully! Realising that it is game over, ones (1) – the bully – will cannibalise those who see through them. In the recent episode of RHOBH, Erika suddenly turning nasty and cannibalising Sutton, triggered this eureka moment for me. Like monstrous Saddam Hussein, realising that the end was at hand, his last act was to viciously cannibalise his executioners. This is precisely what Erika was doing to Sutton. The insults and vicious attacks simply betray that Sutton knows the truth. More importantly, Sutton did not come by her wealth by dubious means. When and if you cheat, you do not win and this is what stings for Erika… she is on the cusp of losing it all and Sutton has everything that she has never had, regardless the façade, and never will. 1 energy body persons are intensely feared. One fears being banished by them as they so cunningly gaslight and pull the wool over one’s eyes.

8 – the mind – that on which one is chiefly focused. 8 is the money number. All persons with 8 for the mindset number will get paid top dollar for whatever they do. The are motivated by being very well-compensated for their time and they will always marry into money rather than not. Like Diana, Princess of Wales, Erika is also 1/8… they have nothing else in common. Second number of 8 people are motivated by a need never to be dependent and never experience want as they witnessed in someone, likely a parent, during childhood. These persons are also motivated by the need for power and winning… at all costs.

8 – Life path – what you will experience. 8 being the money number as 8 is also cyclical and doubles back on itself and represents duality, there is the very real risk of experiencing an Icarian reversal in fortunes during the course of life. Depending on the other numbers in one’s numerological makeup, you will either bounce back or fare not so well. A person, for instance, with three in their makeup when having a lifepath of 8 will see the financial setback as a challenge to battle back from and will have a great laugh when getting back on top. However, if you have more than one 8, you are less likely to succeed in coming back, especially when your reversal of fortune will likely be owing to one having been a damn thief.

8 – Soul/Destiny number… Lord Jesus is all one can say when this is the fourth number and it is even more damning when there are two other 8s! The wonderful thing about 8 is that in hindsight, it always lays bare all the clues. With three 8s, Erika Jayne has been revealing her hand – it is almost as though it were deliberate but that is the beauty of karma. With a destiny number of 8, whatever bad karma you create during the course of the lifetime, will be settled here and now and not down the road in a future life.

Yes, indeed, It’s Expensive to Be Me is the anthem of the bully who drove her man to criminal ends to make an over-the-hill pretender a pop queen to an archly fickle, ghettoised demographic. Pat the Puss is just a future reference to a life behind bars in due course. Hell, she may as well remake the McGuire Sisters hit song Sugartime with lyrics like: Pussy in the morning. Pussy in the Evening. Pussy at Suppertime, all done in an orange jumpsuit of course… now there is an idea for a Halloween outfit this year for Lisa Rinna. Damn right, Bitches, she has made a Pretty Mess of life… right down to the Tammy Faye Bakker tears. Go on Sutton, do the right thing, there is no honour in being associated with a damn thief…

Orphans… Lion Air… Hormones. Fuck it, the fork says she’s done… No seriously, Fuck You! Bitch Bye!

As ever, life is like a flying dream; if you look down, you’re fucked. Enjoy the ride and fear no one!

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©2013-2022 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.

Astral Projecting into Dreamtime.

montreal2.

Recently, in the blog: Nancy …. and more, I spoke much of sage entity mate, Milan Newcombe – incidentally, Frans Bloem is also an entity mate.  In any event, during that tribute to Nancy Wilson, which also proved a tribute to mature sage entity mate, Milan, I spoke of how for having made love and sleeping together with Milan would frequently trigger the languorous process of astrally projecting from the sleeping body and progressing into the dreamtime whilst remaining lucidly self aware.  

Image result for astral projection

Interestingly enough, Jan Hartley whom I encountered on immediately astral projecting is another mature sage soul entity mate of mine and Merlin’s.  She is a freak-all fabulous Jamaican amazon, who is just as iconic and statuesque as Grace Jones who happens to be another cadre rather than entity mate.  Eden Battersea who appears in said dream, I also dream often of.  The energy between us was always simpatico.  I think that it is safe to state that Eden is likely an entity mate; however, I have never had her Michael Overleaves channelled.  

alex grey2

©Alex Grey

A week prior to these dreams, Milan and I had been to Montréal where we had quite the time at the 350th anniversary celebrations and parade for the continent’s most cosmopolitan French city.  At the time of these dreams, it was Monday, May 25, 1992 and the Moon then transited both Pisces and my natal 9th house.  

astral projected self-portrait

Astral Projected Self-Portrait.

Crayola on Paper 

©1984-2022 Arvin da Brgha. 

What I love about this self-portrait of myself whilst astrally projected, is that it perfectly depicts what takes place during the process of astral projecting on May 25, 1992.  There are many forms that the body takes on during astral projection; as in the self-portrait, in this dream I stayed connected to the physical body by way of the crown chakra rather than the solar plexus chakra.  Dream experiences such as these and the process of moving from being fully awakened in the waking state to remaining lucidly focussed into the dreamtime marvellously validate how beautiful it is to be incarnate; we truly are magical beings – and there were no drugs involved in getting one to groove out…

harpsichord2                    

*Prior to sleep, I did a great deal of meditation and energetic work with the crystals.  Soon, I became bloated and expansive and fell into a free-flowing awareness.  I saw a very large, slow-moving galaxy-like, cluster of spiral light.  It slowly rotated and was the most gloriously hypnotic, grounding experience. 

At one point, I too felt as though my body was also turning.  All sense of the normal parametres bled away and the room and bed seemed to drift away, leaving me slowing turning in the blackness of space.  Milan Newcombe was close by, his breathing while already asleep, kept me grounded.  Interestingly enough, the transition from this experience into the dreamtime was almost seamless.  

Although, at one point, it had become so displacing that I had had to forcefully grab hold of the bed and force myself to sit upright in bed, to come out of the experience.  This, of course, caused Milan to stir but he did not awaken.  END.  

kensington market2

                                                            Dream one.  I was on a brown and red-covered bed and it was very dark here.  Interestingly enough, as the sense of the room about me fell away, I would find myself on this other bed, in a totally different space.  I then had an acute awareness of something being there on the bed with me.  It was most upsetting. 

I could not quite figure out what was going on.  It felt like something like a cat but I knew that Whoopi was not about, since I was after all asleep at Milan’s apartment.  By the time of the dream, Milan had already gotten up and moved about the apartment.  Also I knew that it was not energetically something as terrifying as a snake. 

However, it was very uncomfortable and quite weighted as a matter of fact.  Felt as though that just below the edge of the futon, on which I slept, that a hole had opened up in the floor, to the right.  Seemingly, a hole had in fact opened up in space itself.  The wall of the room was as if also impacted with one of these holes. 

This one was considerably larger and more powerful than the one on the floor.  Sequentially, it had also appeared after the one on the floor.  This thing was so ominous that I felt as though, were I to have gotten up, it would have simply sucked me into its vortex.  I knew intuitively that were I to have fallen into its pull, I’d have fallen to my death. 

There was a strong sense of them being a black void and very ominous but one which I could not quite see.  Simultaneously, my body felt so ridiculously bloated.  I just hated the way that my body felt, I literally felt trapped in my own body.  I simply wanted to get out of the shell of my body. 

At that, I willed my self to get out, to get up.  Impatient with the feeling of being weighed down, I decided to astrally project, to move beyond my body.  Decided that I had had more than enough of this feeling of being helpless and entrapped by my own, leaden, bloated body.  Struggling, I pushed against my own body.  

It was as if the blackhole which had manifested beside the bed had so much gravity that it was literally crushing my body.  My chest and entire body felt as though leaden, as if strapped in to the bed.  I simply could not get up.  Since my physical body could not get up, I impatiently said, “Well fuck, I’m going to get up.” 

It’s as though, I had been infused by Milan’s very intense nonconformist energy, for which I do so truly love him.  “No, Arvin.  I have simply got to get up.  I will not suffer this.” 

With herculean effort, I willed myself to a crouched position then made my way down to the foot of the bed.  Turning around, I was surprised to see that my body was still lying, a very slow-breathing shell of a space.  Knew immediately that I was astral projecting and did not have to freak out, thinking that this was my death.  I also did not want to have to see my body and become overly focussed on it, so that I could really trip out, as it were. 

Turning around, I got up, keeping my back turned to my body.  When I got up, I was still aware of the great void being there.  There was a heavy bleed of energy out the crown chakra, atop my head.  This was as if I had the crown of a baobab coming from my head’s crown chakra but a baobab of light energy.  

baobab2

It was funnel-like and spiralled out, then moved back down and outwards, before veering off to behind me to my body, lying asleep on the bed.  What was really interesting about the vortices’ energy, was that they had warped the funnel of light energy, out and towards them, before it was then trailed back down to my body.  It had the appearance of a not fully vertical tornado that manages to swirl way off its central axis, in the cloud, before making contact with ground. 

Getting up, I started walking deliberately, as though in slow motion.  Moving with focussed intent, I managed to effortlessly move through the closed french doors, in Milan’s Spadina Avenue two-storey apartment and crossed the hallway into the kitchen.  The further I got from the french doors and the magnetic black holes, the lighter I became and the easier it was to manipulate in my light body.  I had gone there in the first place to collect messages from the answering machine, as I knew that Pandora had tried to call me from Paris, in the waking state, while I slept. 

Who should be in the kitchen but Eden Battersea and Jan Hartley, both Black Jamaicans from the work environment.  Jan was very much so in charge and in her element, as she cooked and Eden tidied up the rest of the kitchen.  It was also unusually dark here, just as it was in the bedroom, where the holes seemed to suck so much of the light from the room.  Eden was by the fridge, except that there was more space at the counter beside the phone and fridge. 

Eden was there making a sandwich of some sort.  Jan was at the table, chopping of things as she had pots going on the stove, preparing food.  She was quite warm and friendly, energetically greeting me.  I went to the answering machine to check and see if in fact Pandora had yet called from Paris. 

However, there were some problems because I could not find the buttons to start playback of the messages.  It was also a quite different machine to the one from the waking state.  Now, it was an elongated black and brown affair, very unusual-looking.  Jan soon joined me in trying to figure out, how the devil to figure the workings of the thing. 

But then she turned and looking into my face said, from under furrowed brows.  “Buh chile ah wha rang wid ounu face.  Chile yu muss tekk kare ah yur face an ting no man.”  At that, she drew closer, putting her hand over my face. 

Though she did not squeeze or anything, she then said in that loud Jamaican voice of hers, “Clean it way ma…”  I then rubbed my fingers across my nose, thinking of things in the waking state. 

*Presently I do have a bad cold in the waking state.  There have also been lots of problems since I began growing in my moustache, clogged pours more often than not, turning into puss-filled zits.  Ick!  I suffer from a patch of ingrown follicles at the same spot in the moustache. 

Every time I shave it down, it then gets problematic and soon enough gets infected and puss filled thanks to naturally curly black hair becoming ingrown.  Charmant.  This, of course, because I also have such legendary oily skin.  END. 

Cleaning my face with a napkin from the counter top, I would see all this puss on my face.  I was stunned by how realistic it all was.  Jan was so protectively nurturing of me.  Then she began rambling away in Jamaican patois, about not having any trust in technological appliances. 

She threatened to send it off to the states where she would have two of her sons, fix it up for her.  Finally, she could not be bothered, so was not going to do anything about it.  Thoroughly enjoyed her energy.  Going up on this ladder, I went up onto a stand, in the kitchen. 

This was when I realised that the answering machine was connected to another machine; a black box which had these long beaker-like tubes.  They were much like the tubes in the old radios.  A little red spark of laser light, powered the machinery.  Asked Jan if there were not any calls that had come through for me. 

Eden then turned around, looking over her right shoulder at me, when answering, “Sorette, or Soret I think it was, called.” 

“No you mean Pandora, don’t you?” 

“No, I’m quite sure the machine said Saurette.”  Finally, we figured out how the bloody machine worked and it was a strange one indeed.  Somehow, the calls were being routed off-planet, not as to satellites, but to another Star system.  So I thought that perhaps Saurette was the name of a Star from which the messages came. 

Thus it was a static-saturated trunk call but one which was travelling through hyper space.  Very interesting.  Eventually, we got to a message from Pandora, in which she was saying that she would meet me later.  She let me know that she was okay and had gotten my message without any trouble. 

i then announced that I was going to go back out to the salon, which is Milan’s quarter of the house.  Told them that I was planning to go get dressed and go out and meet Pandora.  It was then that I noticed that there was a pair of shorts that I’d left behind at Milan’s, sometime before.  More importantly, the clothes that I slept in were there but discarded since of course I was in an out-of-body state. 

They were the clothes I wanted to put on anyway.  An extra pair of pants sat about; they were jeans.  I was surprised to see that I had left so many clothes laying around at Milan’s place.  They laid across a chaise longue much like Milan has. 

A bed, very shortened, sat on this mattress frame.  I had been on it before.  Jan came in and took it up, banging it against the mattress frame, shaking it out.  I helped her move it, after she asked that I give her a hand. 

We moved it from the outer room, which looks out onto Spadina Avenue to the salon where the harpsichord sits.  The space was like Milan’s apartment but much larger and much more furnished with antiques.  Even here, it was more cluttered than Milan’s beautifully eclectic space.  We took it out to the inner salon which here was like a dining room space. 

There was another bed there with no mattress, which we were going to go use.  We were both barefooted at the time, when she noticed that there was broken shards of a mirror, which were laying about on the floor.  Some were even on the wooden bed frame.  A medium tone wood, it definitely was not a dark wood. 

Jan kicked away the shard with her right big toe.  When I told her to be careful she boisterously chimed, “Me na kno say ma?  Me knoe man, me knoe say ah so de sinting go.  Yu ha fe wartch yur self too chile.” 

Jan was so refreshingly good to be around.  Really, it was quite a pleasure to have helped her out and drink of her spirit.  At this point, I was fully dressed, then announced to her, in a convincing Jamaican accent, “Yeah me dear, me garn gu lang dong ya su, fe book up pan me sista an dem.” 

She cackled, enjoying my accent then affectionately waved me off, “Okay den chile, laita on, fu uknu.”  As I walked, I began going through the closed french doors of the salon.  I effortlessly moved through them as before. 

buenos aires2

                                                            Dream two.  In an instant from effortlessly passing through the closed glass French doors, I was posited out on the side of this very, very wide boulevard, in broad daylight.  Even for me, a seasoned adept at the exigencies of the dreamtime’s pandimensionality, it was a surprising transition.  In an instantaneous puff, there I was, elsewhere.  I had materialised along this boulevard, which had no vehicular traffic whatsoever. 

The thing about this transition was that I had total and clear lucid continuity of consciousness whilst moving from one dream locale to the next.  What was even more bizarre about this, was that I was striding westwards going through the closed door.  In an instant, my stride continued but now I was going eastwards, in the opposite direction.  It was light out whilst in the company of half a dozen men, who were wearing green overalls. 

It was militia garb, tucked into very long, thick riding boots.  With them, they carried long black, billy clubs like the London Bobbies.  I had also materialised in the presence of Penina, Pericles, Pandora, Isha, all my siblings except as per usual, Rio.  It is rare that I ever dream of this man, even in childhood when he was around. 

Pericles was wearing a brown silk shirt, over his brown, baggy slacks; he looked very dapper.  Terribly elegant and very refined with himself, as well he is.  Pandora wore a long flowing skirt that was pleated.  White, it was covered with beautiful floral designs in blue and red. 

Tiny rose petals, in fact, they were.  She wore a navy blue jacket with gold buttons that looked like the classic Chanel suit.  Very large-buttoned, this beautiful suit truly was elegant.  Isha wore a similar suit but there was more colour and flare in her suit. 

A less conservative approach than Pandora’s was Isha’s.  Penina’s outfit, I cannot even now recall.  Undoubtedly, it was not some overdone number, very low key, as is her style.  Functional and comfortable, her criteria. 

Incidentally, the secondary players in this dream were Pandora and Pericles.  On my arrival, I saw this guy and immediately thought of Karl Weller°, from the work environment.  Looking into his face, I said to him, “My god, I thought that you’d have been taller.”  We were standing on an incline but were face-to-face. 

On closer inspection, when looking in his face, I realised how more so he looked like John Milachek.  He looked at me with this look on his face, which was so loving and filled with longing for me.  Throughout, he remained silent, never once having said a word.  Again, I told him that I thought that he’d have been taller. 

He was one of the soldier-militiamen, so that was why he could not get too engaged with me.  Though he never reciprocated, it was obvious that the feelings were mutual.  Another guardsman passingly seemed like Milan; however, I had not spent much time looking at him.  There was an obvious, loving bond between us. 

This was also about acknowledging the fact that we had just met in the waking state.  But it was all done without words; rather, it was done at the level of soul.  It was very electric between us.  So thrilled was I that I broke into song, singing and winding up me waist and celebrating. 

I wind up on the other guy who passingly reminded me of Milan, without giving so much as a damn what others were going to say.  My lips pursed, my arsed cock high, out and ready.  Yes indeed, I was ready to rock and in heat, too.  Pericles sucked his teeth in disgust, turning away from me, saying, “He’s becoming more and more of a problem. 

“And a total embarrassment for this family.  I just do not know how we can put up with this.  Look, what am I doing here anyway?”  Turning around on my heels, I grabbed the long riding whip, from a guy and violently struck Pericles, booming into him, “Shut up!

“I’ll have none of this.  I have every intention of expressing who I am and being who the fuck, I am.  I’m not intent on pleasing you or anybody.”  With that, I continued my frenetic attack on him, whipping him into shape as it were. 

“Shut your narrow-minded ass, the fuck up!”  Forcefully, I cut him down to size and laid into him, all eyes, whip and rage, “I will have abso-fucking-lutely, none of this.  You own nothing here, nor are you running anything.  You’re not doing anything, except as per usual to stand here on the sidelines, passing judgment. 

“That’s all you ever do.  So shut the fuck up!”  I was truly livid with him or anyone trying to rein me in.  Incensed at this sphinctered rigidity, I abruptly took my leave, turning back to head across the extra wide, deserted 

A Brimstone Hill Sandy Point Panorama

                                                            Dream three.  Almost immediately, it became the lane up Crab Hill next to our house there.  This lane, of course, separated us from the very disputatious Florence Pole°.  Just as before, while in the midst of my stride, I was posited from one locale to the next.  Again, much was different here. 

Though there was continuity of lucid awareness, it had also transformed from bright daylight, to the stark finality of night time.  When I came down to the road, the McHughs’ house was there.  Going out into the street, I was surprised to find that it was considerably wider than in the waking state.  There were lots of ancient-looking bas relief.  This was so stunningly incredible.  Thus the effect was one of her legs seemed improperly attached to her body.  This was all about getting to a Space of Spirit and Intellect, where one was then free to creatively explore. 

This was in essence a creative incubator, at the level of the astral plane.  After all, everything about this experience from the projection out of my body, lying there asleep behind me, was truly about ascending to a higher stratum of the astral plane.  This abandonment was so mind warpingly complex, yet paradoxically simple in its sheer eloquence, that all I could do was throw my head back and riotously laugh.  Along with myself, there were other waking state locals there experiencing this as spectators. 

We were getting such a high at what these great masters could pull off.  It was as if, prior to setting out on their impactful incarnations, this is the astral school where souls like Martha Graham and George Balanchine° went to master their creative expressionism.  Quite simply, this was the school where great masters went to work it out, before reincarnating with an agendum to take the world by visionary, revolutionary, creative expressionistic storm.  Everyone of these people would evolve the art and styles would be created as a result of these souls attending this astral plane school of high priestdom. 

This is the only way to describe the scope of this realm’s essence.  These were a very august-souled people, who were mastering their art.  The art of pure creative expressionism.  They then announced,   “Okay, okay, okay. 

“Here comes the other guys.”  This led to the introduction to the opposing team of players.  One of them was seemingly the ancestral forebear of the McHughs, our Crab Hill neighbours.  There were obviously a great many Europeans in the McHughs’ family tree, on Baron McHugh’s side. 

The matriarch on the father’s side was then brought out of the McHughs and proved a very skeletal, ancient white.  She had apparently had a double mastectomy.  Very senior easily centuries old-looking, she was borne up by a couple of attendants, who were of Amerindian descent.  Everybody then started laughing, all the players on both teams, because she was so full of fear. 

She was possessed of an enormous amount of sexual guilt because of her nakedness.  Her body was truly bizarre.  It was quite concave; it was collapsed in on itself and birdlike.  When it got down to the hips, they disproportionately ballooned. 

Quite simply, she had a hideous mess for a body.  More to the point, it was all about how very uncomfortable some persons in the waking state, of southern Eurpean cultural heritage, are so guilt-ridden.  This is about how they see sex as being base and dirty.  As a result, such persons become so acutely uncomfortable in their bodies. 

There was another white who passed by in a blue and white muu-muu.  It was hard to tell which sex the individual was.  What was really interesting about this all, is the fact that the McHugh matriarch had been initially clothed, then stripped naked.  This is what had caused her such distress. 

For being so absurd in her self-denial, the others who were perfectly at ease with their nakedness, had begun laughing at the bizarreness of her.  She was lost in her beliefs.  The person went down between the McHughs and Saunders residences.  Two of the most grotesque thighs supported the gargantuanly hideous body. 

They were stubby little legs under this grotesquely bloated body.  If that were not enough, there was then a third Caucasian who looked like one of those early washing machines, from the 1950s.  The ones that had the roll wringers atop the round-lidded container.  This individual was Boteroesque in the true sense of the word. 

Very baby-souled, indeed, in focus.  Totally ill-proportioned and as well completely ashamed of their bodies.  They were so not into their bodies, that they were resoundingly subjected to ridicule.  They were a moment of Comedia dell’Arte. 

At that, I turned around and walked across the street heading as if towards Florence Pole’s verandah.  There were many more steps up to the verandah, which here was quite raised off the ground.  Going up on the steps, there were several of the naked giant people seated there, who were laughing their heads off at these freaks of daymare fare.  Not everyone was naked however. 

Going up on the last step, I sat down to the right, passing this woman.  On sitting down, I’d looked down into her eyes, with her on my left.  Ahead of me there was a guy standing up, who could have been earlier seated where I now sat.  The woman turned out to be pretty much so like the actor Kathy Bates, trying to verify, I called out the name, “Kathy Bates. 

“Hi, how are you?  You know that year, the Oscars were such a low-key affair and then there you were, breezing in with a spectacular win.  You were so refreshing and it was so refreshing.  Look, I’m really happy for you.” 

She energetically thanked me.  Kathy wore a brown large blouse.  Refreshingly, she wore no make-up whatsoever, a lot like that other grounded actor, Tyne Daley that way.  She was so refreshingly real and normal. 

Very clear, strong brown eyes, that were totally self-possessed, centred and contented.  Good for her.  The skirt matched the blouse, both covered in these daisies in various stages of maturation from bud to full bloom, then on to withering expiration.  Some were tight buds, buds breaking open. 

Daisies opening, others still in full bloom, still others past their prime.  Some after their zenith, some with three or four petals left.  A few still with only one withered petal left and some more with nothing but a petal-naked seed pod.  There were all very tiny, all the full bloom daisies less than one third the size of a dime. 

Quite a beautiful ensemble and I rather admired it while we spoke, from time to time pulling away from the unobstructed beauty of her warm eyes, to look at them.  Even for me, it was a bit humbling to have to look into so serene a pair of eyes.  Excitedly she called out to a man who was down below the steps, who turned out to be her husband.  Energetically, she had him come up and join us. 

He was a stout man and he reminded me of the actor, Jeffrey Jones, who played emperor Franz Joseph in the cinematic tour de force Amadeus.  He carried a wonderful little child who had the sweetest, sunniest disposition.  The husband did, though, have a rather distended stomach.  At one point, she got up and went to sit on the edge of the verandah. 

I knew that she had gone there because she had found my eye contact a tad too direct, which it always is, whether in the waking state or dreamtime.  She had kept on looking away, for no other reason than that my gaze was a bit too intense.  I was not upset by it, accepting her choice.  Alas, it was not the end of the world. 

Her husband remained where he was, originally on her right, with the boy.  He was excitedly speaking about what the naked giants were able to pull off with their bodies.  He seemed about 37 years old and undoubtedly an actor; theatre or perhaps an acting coach.  They were a really refreshing group of persons to be around. 

It turns out that they were mostly white on the steps.  The boy sat on his father’s lap, wearing a sunny shirt to match his wonderful personality.  It was covered throughout with sunflowers in bloom.  This little man had such beautiful little teeth, against his generous gums. 

Perfect teeth, on the four year old.  His hair was brown to black, with a beautiful natural oily sheen to it but one that was not problematic, falling in a bang on his forehead.  He had such beautiful, smiling sunny eyes.  God it was breathtaking to look at him because here was a soul incarnate in the most sunny of childhoods. 

Spectacular!  He was happy and a precocious, charmer.  As I looked at him and he was smiling, he suddenly got dead serious on making eye contact with me.  Time seemed to stand still as the most intense fusion occurred between us; it was really quite powerful. 

“I wonder if you are Merlin?” I thought to myself whilst reciprocally looking directly into his.  He looked at me saying absolutely nothing, his lips pursed, knowing, then broke into the most glorious, knowing laughter.  It was as if to say, “Well, you tell me.  What do you think?”  

It was very direct and very connected.  With that, I reached out to him, rubbed his little thighs, to which he giggled with utter abandon.  This child asked so many questions, of adults who actually took the time to be there for him and not relegate him as a bit player in their agenda.  Very impressive parenting approach, to which he was focussed. 

Goodness, this kid was so filled with life, positive life.  Good for him.  Kathy Bates then leaned forward, asking after me.  She then drew to my attention, the vista across the way where our Crab Hill house used to be. 

There had been a fire, burning the entire structure to the ground.  Apparently, it was arson but the saving grace was reconnecting with the genip tree, which though considerably larger, towered seemingly more so, without the grounding of the house.  The trunk was so thick that I squealed with delight, letting everyone know that I was the one who had planted the mango tree.  It had been singed on one side, during the fire. 

Remarkably, it had survived the fire and not burnt down, for which I was grateful.  Looking across the street to the McHughs’ yard where their truck used to be, there was now a majestic poplar tree and in St.  Kitts at that but it was quite sturdy and strong.  Quite handsome and though thin-trunked, I was quite pleased to see it in these parts.  It was not unlike a columnal oak, spiralling up as it did. 

Every time that the breeze blew through it, the leaves rustled, beautifully laughing; it was the most exquisite drink.  It affected a great tranquillity to the evolved Chi of the place.  Standing up, the steps were quite high, as I looked down into the road.  As a matter of fact, the lane was considerably wider and being used here as a street. 

At that point, I saw Pericles, Isha and Pandora.  I had pulled up my leg, on seeing this young black boy.  He was beautifully dark-skinned and slightly over weight.  As he walked towards us, on noticing Whites on the step, he immediately became very subdued and self-conscious. 

As a matter of fact, he was quite afraid of being taunted and harassed by whites. 

*Which finally is a reality that all blacks experience, with varying degrees of intensity and frequency.  It was all about the psychic abuse that one is perpetually subjected to.  Outright ridicule, crossing to the other side of the street, women clutching their handbags.  Being sniffed at rudely and spat at with cutting aggressiveness. 

Nasty, animalistic behaviour, all of it.  Aggression that is daily perpetuated, to justify the absurdism of their arbitrary superiority.  Finally, their acute insecurity about being arbitrarily superior.  A very mad, twisted little World that we all inhabit, in the waking state: both blacks and whites, for its a displacement of spirit that we are as if unable to constructively address and affect. 

Quite interesting to experience this degree of WST (waking state transference) and I really reached out compassionately to the young black man.  Finally, I knew that I could only do so much for him; he would have to make his own way.  Penina then came over, bearing this pair of pants that was on a hanger.  It came with a pair of briefs attached inside. 

She instructed the young boy.  She was letting him know that it was time for him to go run the race and she had not spent all this time coaching him, for him not to win.  She was her usual feisty self.  Humorously, she went about bolstering his spirits. 

It served to pull him away from the vortex of predatory racial animus that he was succumbing to.  This exactly was what he needed then and there, being spirited away from the black hole of racism.  This was about the debilitating effects of racism on black males in the waking state.  Excusing myself, I said, “Oh good, there is Pandora. 

“Allow me, to go down and greet Pandora, again.”  Rushing down, she beamed at me as we warmly greeted each other.  Wrapping arms about the other’s waist, we walked away with her on my immediate left.  Languorously, we had kept directly looking into each other’s eyes. 

You could feel the mostly white waking state humans back on the steps, admiringly looking on at us.  Pericles was coming towards us and it was obvious that he could not be avoided.  However, we lapsed back into looking into each other’s eyes, in that way snubbing him, letting him know that we had no intention of acknowledging his narrow-minded energy.  He was royally pissed off at that, as well he should have. 

Finally, we did not care for his arrogance.  Isha was there with Gina Morton and some other girlie friends, ponging ‘tory, as is their wont.  Hurriedly, I invited Pandora to come along, at which point we walked around the road past the Crab Hill property.  I was supposedly taking her to the poplar tree.  

tammam-azzam-storeys-series-180-x-235-cm-acrylic-on-canvas-2015

                                                            Dream four.  Yet again things immediately shifted and now it was an entire city block, which was not like anything in Crab Hill at all.  Turns out, this strange city had been burnt completely to the ground.  Quite so, it seemed to be an industrial complex, with all these exposed frame work of the larger buildings.  Many of the skyscrapers here still had their steel ribbing in tact. 

It was all very garish a sight.  As we crossed, I pointed out all the exposed pipes and burnt out wood everywhere.  Somehow, many of these wasted structures had become organically transformed.  The wooden beams were now exposed, black charcoaled sculptural signatures. 

In one locale, a set of pipes came up out of the ground.  Conscientiously, I pointed out that we had better get out of there.  My concern was that the pipes were bleeding gas, which was not only invisible but unscented as well.  Noticed as I inspected that one of the pipes had a heat vapour rising from where it was broken; this was not a good sign. 

So we decided to turn right, heading down this off-street from the major thoroughfare.  Along it, there were lots of exposed pieces of plastics which were mixed into the mortar along the side of the road.  It was quite interesting to see how this civilisation chose to recycle its plastics, burying them in the mixture to help make more affordable and durable roads.  The road did incline downwards as we went along it. 

This then took us to this large, old wooden building, which still stood.  It was pink with louvres which covered the outside, where just inside there was a verandah with an indoor garden.  Glass louvres shut out the elements allowing the plants to grow healthily.  But in the very last apartment, I noticed that there were two of them that were totally abandoned. 

I was thinking at the time that we could easily move into them.  Fixed up, they’d prove wonderful large apartments and a wonderful place to live.  Saw no reason why we could not fix them up and end up getting good rates for them, on resale.  Arriving at the last apartment, I excitedly announced to Pandora, that it was where Hélène Plotte-de Visage lived. 

We were able to peer inside the apartment.  It was reminiscent of the cottage that she owned on Ontario Street; however, this was differently laid out.  It was then and there that I recalled being there to visit with her, earlier in another dream.  It was a beautiful apartment, laid out so that it was like a stage set, on several levels. 

No walls just different levels, adding a sense of spaciousness to the space.  A piano then began playing, which was soon accompanied by a chorus of singing kids.  Realised then that she was a pianist and a school teacher to these kids.  We went walking past as Hélène got up to sing a Christmas carol, which they were rehearsing, at all of summertime. 

To hear the carol at summertime, reminded Pandora and I simultaneously of our childhood Christmases in Crab Hill, where it was of course a perpetual summer.  Looking at each other, we had a moment of true intimacy, smiling lovingly at each other.  We were so moved that we sweetly laughed whilst enjoying the tight groove that only the two of us, could have fathomed then and there.  Hélène’s apartment was at the end of the complex, that led to a wonderful garden, to the side of the building. 

Here the road dead-ended into this beautiful large park.  There was a road that ran east-west, because we had gone due south, along the road.  The east-west street presented us with a choice and I suggested that we go right and so we did.  We walked on the south side of the street, which inclined, with the park close by. 

We’d originally turned right to get onto this street.  We crossed to the north side to get on the same side of the street as the park.  When we got up, this street dead-ended into a plaza before the park.  There were lots of people just hanging out, kicking back. 

Here, it was very mellow.  Mostly, they seemed to be a bunch of hippies, with several of them wearing the same high-riding boots.  Though the garb bordered on that of some skinheads, they were, however, not such persons.  A long backed, high-yellow woman was there with her family. 

She had two daughters and a son.  One of the daughters had great potentials of becoming a spectacular model.  She did look not unlike the East Indian-German, beauteous supermodel Yasmine Ghauri, though, a younger version.  She wore a blue bathing suit, which I noticed when she got up off the picnic blanket to stretch out. 

They were in our way but not obtrusively so.  We continued along and happened on these very young-souled  Americans.  We instinctively held on tighter to each other because these people were so aggressively young-souled.  It was fairly obvious to us that we were likely to be at least verbally attacked by them. 

Thus we chose to shield ourselves from their potentially stinging sarcasm.  As we moved along, I was amazed to find that one person to our left, in passing, was Bruno Lambsdorff.  Saw another young, high-yellow girl because she so reminded me of Martha Wexler, I called out to her.  She wore a white silk blouse. 

When we came over, she joined us immediately, holding hands with us and walking between Pandora and me.  A dark-complected black girl then came up, whose hair was braided.  The other’s hair, like Pandora’s was gathered back in a loose bun.  So too was mine, for that matter. 

As we intimately progressed, enjoying each other’s company, we were aware of the onlookers, trying to fathom the extent and nature of our connection.  It was as though to them, the high-yellow girl was too beautiful to be an offspring or sibling of ours.  Most of all, we were gathered thus to shield and protect ourselves against the vicissitudes of rough-going racial animus that foamingly swirled about us.  Arriving in the plaza area, the two girls had these yellow-handled camcorders. 

The rest of the tiny machines were black, which they placed over their eyes, with their right hands, to begin filming away.  Isha started dancing, at which point, I suggested that Pandora ought to go join in the dance.  Myself, I let them know that I was unsure whether or not I wanted to be dancing.  Pandora was decked out in these high heels, doing these wonderful, elegant movements. 

Isha, quite out of character, was also wearing high heels.  She was dancing away to which I added, by energetically scatting away.  Soon enough, people started materialising, to check out our performance but I, however, did not want to be so hemmed in.  Further, I suggested that they visit while I head off to explore some more. 

Pandora, however, decided that she wanted to continue along, in my company, so I galdly accepted her offer.  

tour bus2

                                                            Dream five.  We headed off and soon got aboard this tour bus, where there were all these Japanese persons.  We began reading this book together; that famous Hindu book of worship.  It was a new version of it.  It had been updated, because a new religion had recently been born to the world. 

This was all very scary for us, as we read on.  It spoke about after the history of things.  Accordingly, after Lord Buddha there was the ambisexual Buddha, which did not make much sense.  So I read the fine print of this blue covered text, of religious writings. 

Here there were poems and historical accounts of events.  There were excerpts from the Lotus Sutra to the front, of the text, with newer religions in the middle section of the publication.  The end of the book, spoke of this new religion’s rise.  It informed that the Great Master was known to have been born in Israel. 

The complete statistics of his birth, astrologically, were listed.  At the time, all that I could think was that he was implying that the reborn Christ was going to be reborn in Israel.  Twice in a row, I thought.  Talk about lightning striking twice. 

This of course was a reference to Christ who had long come and gone but interestingly enough, he was referred then as the Buddha.  This was very current; the moment that we stepped on board the bus.  The bus seemed to be on Canada’s west coast.  This was a very densely populous Asian city. 

There were also a ton of whites here, as well.  They also had very thick Australian accents.  I found it all so bizarre that anyone could so casually be sitting around reading this book.  But almost everyone on the bus was. 

These people were very young-souled and frenetic.  Pandora and I were the only blacks here.  Incidentally, who should be on board but a blond guy, who was wearing shorts.  He was Australian and stood there, looking down at me because I was reading the book. 

Soon, he leapt into this whole sermon that was of a religious, fundamentalist bent.  He was, though, not a Christian fundamentalist but a zealous devotee of this newly formed world religion.  These people were terribly zealous and went about trying to confiscate the book, from so many people who were on the bus.  It just was not right. 

I fast blew my cool and leapt to my feet, “Hey now, wait a minute! You have no such, fucking right.  Stop it!”  The incredible thing about this dream too, was that one had to have a tattoo of the national flag of one’s country of origin. 

It was then that I knew that they were definitely from Australia.  The Asian tourists meanwhile were very young-souled but younger still than the zealous Australians.  They all stood there on the bus, holding it hostage for many people.  Stealthily, Pandora had gotten up and charmingly excused herself from the bus. 

Wh