Category : Stories

Sub Category : Adventure

The candle was on its seventh day of burning and smoke filled my home. The smell of burning sage became familiar. I was raised in Texas where apparently Jesus would of been born if not Bethlehem. Where a bible would replace a drink only on Sunday. 
And pastors feed the homeless in Jaguars.
A feeling of accomplishment and relief of guilt left at the alter  another Sunday. 
I felt a sence of emotional drainage Baggage lost and left and need not be found. 
I remember just wanting to be loved and at church they seemed to care about my well being-i mean they did lay HANDS on me every Sunday. Apparently they thought i had a evil spirit inn me that spoke to me and told me things about others. This was not of God i was reminded. My eyes so tight and fingers raw from clinching my knuckles from nightly payers. 
Yet love was still absent and church became a platform for others to practice their payers on me!
California- 30 years of impeded knowledge was left behind in the bible belt. And i had found my way to two psychics the first day i found my way to those Golden Gates of Palm trees. The women i had been warned about sat with their arms open to me.  Child let me help guide thee. What a joke: they were frauds. Their corny one punch lines that could vaguely apply to any one person. It wasn't enough i knew there were others out there like me and i would find them or lose my soul trying.

Stumbling out the door of a metapysic store rummaging for my keys gripping my bag and purse all at once. What happened next would put me on a nine month journey to realize My roots were deep.
"Ma'am are you ok?"
Oh God please don't be talking to me quickly i thought..