Tag Archives: karma

Karmic Judgement

A blood which is what true generational witches refer to themselves as, not these new-fangled pagan revivalists; they can’t be a blood witch, because their magical blood is not from true ancient stock!

I am not being a Harry Potter purest here, it’s a matter of fact.

My family has had witchcraft in the blood for hundreds of years, my ancestors were the cousins of the Howe’s and Bishop’ of the Salem witch trials, we are also cousins of Crowley.

I have a proud heritage and I used to be an active witch, very active.

I am only active again when I need to help boost blessings for people, heal people or defend myself from idiots who think that they can bust me spiritually as well as physically and mentally!

A true blood witch always knows when someone has attempted to put a spell on them or their family, because they get flash visions.  Sometimes it surprises you who is doing things, because weirdly enough the people who flash into your mind are unknown to you – they are strangers who for some reason wishes to affect your life in some way – usually because of jealousy or getting even because you are associated in a friendly manner with someone they hate or love.

When you can sense that someone has done this to you, you know their intentions of what they want to do to you, it’s very clear in your flash vision.  What isn’t clear is the why… you have to delve for that either in astral projection or asking spirits guides or tarot cards.

This can happen to me quite regularly, there are a bunch of witches from my past who hate me for some reason or another and so I often get them doing things or trying.

But in the past four days I have sensed two spells on me… 1 is oddly loving… the other is quite evil, one from a man and one from a woman…

The one from the woman is evil, not only that but she is a coward as she paid someone to do it – someone very weak actually – all of this was seen in my vision, told to me by my very protective spirits.

According to spirits, she sees me as competition… never met her, don’t know her and don’t want to!

She’s taking up weight training by all accounts to compete with me and she is starting to try and wear clothing which she knows I apparently like too.

Her spell is to affect the quality of my looks, my teeth, in fact for me to lose them and my alopecia was getting better, but it’s some back a bit in the past couple of day and apparently it’s due to this woman!  Also, my skin has been getting acne its something I’ve never had a problem with even as a teen – my skin has always been good… so it all ties in I think… thankfully I haven’t lost any teeth as I stopped her spell flow ASAP.

What I found weird was, when I rebound the spell there was a huge electric shock through my hand and the noise it made actually made my son Henry turn around and ask what was that noise mama? So that spell was meant to be as vicious as you can get!

So, when this happens you imagine a protective barrier around you, golden, you say a chant to send the spell away from you, but it always goes back to the sender or intender, if the person didn’t do the spell themselves both the practitioner who she hired and herself will feel the effects of what they want to do to me but it would be a lot worse for them!

So your chant must be personal to you. My chant is handed down from generation to generation, I won’t give you the charm as it shouldn’t leave family ears.

But it would be something like this…

Round about the circles bound, evil sink into the ground, you tried to curse me and harm my life, it rebounds to you thrice!

You can’t play tennis with this sort of thing – the originator of this spiritual war risks losing her magical power for a while, not always but sometimes the spirits will block you from harming others, sometimes permanently!

If I didn’t send it back, I would become ill or whatever she intended.  So it’s a matter of self-defence!

Basically this person is going to be very ugly in about 3yrs time; it will happen slowly like a disease… it always does!  For some reason when someone is that vicious towards another witch, though the witch sends the badness away from her to protect herself and may do so with forgiveness and love for the idiot who tried to harm her – evil to that degree always turns into a karmic cancer!

There is nothing for the victim witch to do about that, it’s out of her hands… it’s in the hands of the cosmos! 

Know thy enemy is strong advice when you want to mess with magick… make sure she’s not a witch basically… well not a real one!

As for the person who did a loving spell to me… why?  I didn’t know you were interested in me until I saw that vision and oh my goodness… I know exactly who you are!

Talk to a woman first at least!

Do you know you could have made a dangerous obsession in a person if you try to put a love spell on someone you don’t even know likes you…?

Very dangerous… people have been driven mad to jealous murder because of people like you doing things like that!

Magick requires responsible thought and actions and should never be done in heightened emotional states!

I like you and it is a shame you are considering this!  Though maybe your magick might involve removing obstacles that you think are in your way?  Be careful if you choose to do that one too… you may inadvertently kill someone or ruin someone’s life! 

I was trained in witchcraft by my grandma from the age of 7yrs – I am a blood witch, it’s in my genetics, in my blood, I have been practising for 33yrs… honestly… don’t try to fuck me up spiritually – my spirit team are ferocious enough, without me having to rebound whatever shit you throw at me!

Yes, go ahead… think I am a crazy woman… go on…

Let’s see how crazy you think I am in 3yrs!

Lots of love and healing is coming your way, whether you deserve it or not… I am not the karmic judge!

Thanks for reading!

P.S what’s weird is my favourite oracle pack pulled out agrimony as the first card when I asked about problems occurring in my life today – agrimony is a plant that protects you from witchcraft and hexes.

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Wanna mess with a blood witch?

When a witch bites another witch

The other witch she knows

Especially when the other witch is new to witchy clothes

A more experienced witch can feel the bite she makes

And knows who exactly who bit her and then makes her eat the karma cake!

The spell rebounds on the newbie witch

It rolls around a bit

It doubles up and fills her cup with her own shit

Don’t mess with me and I won’t to you

Witches are sisters whether old or new

Leave my hair and teeth alone

Or you’ll be ragged like a pile of bones

A friendly reminder to those who try

Mess with a blood witch and you’re sure to die!

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Got to be grateful

I have a bunch of friends, mostly online but there some friends that I once knew offline when I lived in London, but maintain contact with them online only these days.

Quite a few of these friends are new age, hippies, gothic, artistic or writers of some description or another and at least two thirds are part of the LGBTQ community – nearly half of which believe in doing one thing regularly;

Being grateful or finding gratitude in things, no matter how hard they might be.

This is something I have never really thought about for myself.

Ungrateful cow, eh?

But some of my friends are encouraging me to become grateful even for the hard times, because it will result in healing old wounds.

They have claimed it has helped them somewhat.

Becoming more self-reflective is key to understanding the pains and turmoil’s of the past, so you can then sweep the negative space clear and put in a positive vibe via gratitude.

Nobody has ever really taught me to be grateful, not in the way I have always tried to encourage Henry to be.

It’s funny that – how I’ve always made a point in ensuring Henry is always grateful for what he has, yet I never practised what I preached there for myself.  Well, to tell the truth, I am grateful for what I have now, even though it is much less than what is comfortable and much less than what I used to have – but I am grateful I am not in a worse situation than this, I’ve always have been.

I am very grateful for living in a country that cares for its poor and sick like they do, I am very grateful not to be a situation of many other people in the world.

I am also grateful for no longer being in situations I used to be or having certain people in my life anymore.

But that’s just generalising and in order to do this properly I shouldn’t generalise, I should be more in depth about what I am grateful for.

Things from my past;

I am grateful that although my mother wasn’t the best, she at least had one personality trait which stopped her being much worse than she was – that is the fear of what others thought of her.  This always held her back from doing the things she really wanted to do to me, because she would often tell me exactly how she felt, but how she wouldn’t do it, because of so and so.

But she was still who she was, despite this.  Imagine if she was more self-assured, what my life could have been like if she had been more confident to be herself.

I am grateful for the situations my family put me into, living amongst addicts and drunks and domestic abuse temporarily and then moving me onto more stable homes, so I learned to appreciate what my true home life was like in comparison!

I think that’s why my mother did that – move me around a lot to different people for weeks on end, to show me, that in the scheme of things – or in the scheme of what is available in the family, our house was a haven in comparison.

Even if it was a prison, it was quieter, more predictable and physically safe if you did what you were told.  In some of the other homes I spent time in, it didn’t matter if you were good as gold, if they were inclined to hurt you, they’d hurt you!

I was always grateful for how clean, organised and fresh the main house was in comparison to some places I was sent to live, where their houses were infested with rats and beds weren’t made, they had no bottom sheets and in the winter in order to keep warm you had to snuggle up with the kids you shared the bed with and the dogs just to keep warm!

It’s funny looking back at how those places were actually considered my happy places, my favourite places to go to, to get away from mum.  The people were nice, but poor, much poorer than Paul and I – this is something to be grateful for.  I don’t have to scrounge around at neighbour houses begging for 50p for the electric metre like the mother of the house did and then go to her dad’s house to get them fed, because her husband drank away the food money for her and her 5 children and an extra to boot!

It’s one of the reasons why I am tired of sausage and beans, it was a staple there.  My mum tried to teach me to be grateful by showing me we are much better off, because we would also have sausages and beans, but with chips and fried eggs and buttered bread and double portions to them around twice a week on average.  Good living, she thought, though she could afford more, it was laziness more than anything when she was home cooking. 

This is why from the age of 7yrs, she insisted I would be the main cook of the house as she had night shifts to do and couldn’t spend the time to cook for everyone, so left it to me – because it’s normal I her family that the eldest or only daughters are fully domestic by 7yrs old and can take a mothers place at the drop of a hat.

I learned by 9yrs old, there is one thing you should never do as cook of the house and that is ask dad what he fancies for dinner as it will almost always be steak and chips, pie and chips, fish and chips or a full English breakfast!

By the time I was 11yrs old I learned lots of recipes from other relatives and I diversified our diet a lot, mum pushed against it for a while, until she learned that some of the food I was making was actually nice.  She never had a Bolognese before I was 11 and it became one of her most favourite meals of all time ever since!

As time went on the diet got healthier, for them.

I am very grateful for the freedom I had in choosing what I cooked in my main home.

Always had compliments throughout all the family over the years about being “the proper little housewife”, someone who didn’t laze around, always willing to help, someone reliable and dependable.

It’s why it’s hard being here now, where I feel like I am not needed by anyone and if anything in the way!  Its poles apart from the life I used to have, where I’d skip from relative to relative, living with them temporarily and cleaning and cooking for them.

Everyone was happy to have Tina over for any length of time, I was a treat for them, I even remember my mum setting up rota system, and it was almost like a bidding war to get me to stay with them at times!

My maternal grandmother, Uncle John, honorary aunties Gina and Anna (which turned out to be distant cousins), Cousin Jenny and neighbour Debs, honorary granny Esme, got me the most though!  Seems a lot of people but actually weren’t a lot to me.  Mum wouldn’t let me stay anywhere more than six weeks in case I bonded too much!

I am grateful that I had that kind of life, shifting from person to person, it made me broadminded and adaptable, it also taught me how to change like a chameleon – I suppose it taught me acting skills.  Because each household was different, some were really poor and I mean this in the best possible way – but common, others were posh, others middle row and you had to adapt your behaviour and speech to where in the country you were going and the class of people you are going to socialise with the most at the time.

It really was adapt or die, or at least have a hard life there!

This even meant my religion had to change to whom I stayed with as many of these people went to church, the cathedral, the JW meetings and so forth.

I remember going to stay with some relatives where egg and chips is a luxury, you wear jog suits and hoodies, you have to be into RNB and rap and you have to play console games and learn how to talk about football.  If you didn’t you didn’t get to have friends, you were ignored in the corner as the weird posh girl.

I also remember going to other places where I have to groom horses and talk about horse racing, horse breeding, dog shows, dog breeding, gardening and sitting in watching cousins learn gymnastics and ballet – I wanted to join in but my mum wouldn’t give my relatives the money for me to participate.  Do you have any idea how humiliating it is seeing your thin beautiful cousins doing all that, whilst you are the fat girl sitting on a bench watching grumpily whilst the tutor tries to talk you into making your mother part with cash so I can join in for the benefit of my health and being told umpteen times at the age of 9yrs old that I am responsible for my weight, not my mother?

It’s really humiliating actually! 

Just as embarrassing is being the only fat person in a household of half-starved poor kids, especially as I was the most vocal about being so hungry all the time!  I feel bad for them now, back then I was very selfish upon reflection and didn’t have much empathy for them, I was entitled I guess.

I sometimes wonder if the universe is cruel enough to punish people for their lack of insight as children when they are much older… like living here in poverty like this with Paul is some kind of karmic debt?

But I was never mean or rude about it; I was just self-absorbed that’s all – I mean, isn’t every child?

I know I was ungrateful back then for a lot of the kindness I got.  I remember thinking sometimes that their dog ate more than we did in some of those homes.

I even remember saying this once half-jokingly and the mother said, we have to feed the dog he works!  The dog belonged to her husband who was a security guard and the dog went to work with him every night!

It’s a funny contrast too, when you are with the richer families who are super posh and they seem more self-absorbed than you – but on Sundays they go to do charity work as a family at soup kitchens etc. and you tag along to help them.

You try to tell these people, you know the soup they need should contain noodles, meat chunks or vegetable chunks, not be pureed within an inch of its life, it’s not filling.  They look at you and rightfully challenge “what would you know”?  Because they didn’t think I had other lives with other people who were like the people they were helping, they thought I was like them and they didn’t know any better!

I remember telling them once about what I have experienced, they laughed raucously and told my mother about the funny little stories I make up and how I definitely will be a writer some day!

Mum never told them the truth, just laughed along with them agreeing!

I will always be grateful for whatever food or shelter I get, whatever warmth I get, whatever attention I get and whatever help I get.  My life has taught me never to take anything for granted, because you never know how long it will all last.

You can be the richest person ever and lose it all over night due to a storm or a thief or anything, but you can also be a pauper and strike it lucky and find your feet and soar.  I’ve seen it happen to the best and worst of people – I am grateful for having such an enriched life full of varied experiences, no matter how painful they were.

I learned a lot.

I have learned what I am comfortable with and what I am not comfortable with and the types of people that make it better for me in the long run.

I’ll admit I prefer the comfort and mindlessness of buying a whole bowl of fruit without pinching the pennies, I would love to go back to the place where the idea of choosing blueberries or pomegranates this week is laughable, just stick them both in the trolley, don’t be silly, we’re not that bad off!

Of course, anyone would! 

I remember spending £25 a week on just a handful of different magazines, £50 a week on take outs, £20 a week in lunch money, £20 a week in bingo with gran and anything up to £75 a week on books and clothes – this is a dream these days!  Those days died out for me fourteen years ago! 

I can’t buy any magazines anymore, not even once a month.  Take outs never more than £14 once a month if we can afford it or cut back on other things for the treat, we can’t spend money on the lottery anymore let alone bingo – £40 is our average food bill for the whole household and there is nothing spare for books and clothes, clothing money goes to creditors through catalogues if we’re desperate. 

I suppose I should be grateful buying things on credit is an option, especially as there are rumours the government wants to ban those sorts of enterprises. 

Thanks for reading…

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Minor surgery in July and a caution…

I am having minor surgery in the last week of July, so for around three days I may not be quite myself – I don’t do well under anaesthetic, so unless I have scheduled posts for then, I might be quiet at the end of July and beginning of August.

I have breathing problems and being on my back can worsen this, because of my sinus issues and the fact that it is likely to be the hottest time of the year too – meaning, I don’t breathe well in the summer anyway… so I am more than a little worried about even such a minor procedure like what I am having… I don’t want to discuss what I am having done, but it is enough for me to go under general, it is worrying.

But because I have been in a state of apathy for the last eight years about being alive, I kind of have a MEH attitude to whether or not it’s serious or not.  In other words, I am not entirely out of the woods for being suicidal, so if I die during it, I don’t care… but I care about the poor doctor who is having me under the knife and I care for my son who will be left behind, because he can’t cope with life at the moment as it is and has been needing a lot of mental health charities himself to get him through the year so far.

So it’s not the matter that I don’t want to die on the table – it’s the matter of, I don’t want people to suffer when I do.

This sets me apart from those people who readily curse others in their lives – it’s not the person you hate that gets the brunt end of that sort of thing – it’s the collateral damage left behind after you succeed with it, with other people in their lives, who you have hurt with your actions!

Think about that…

Karma will balance you out; based on what you do and how many people are affected positively or negatively with what you have done!

It’s not just between you and your victim, you know?

Happy reading…

P.S this is just one or two predicted surgeries for the coming year.

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Bad energies always returns

You chose to love me, it is not my fault

I didn’t make you love me; I didn’t lock your heart in a vault

So please do not vex me, for you own selfish thought

That you could own me, put me in a vault

It isn’t fair to curse the one you said you loved because the love isn’t returned

It isn’t fair to jibe at them and make their future burn

It isn’t fair, because the love isn’t returned

You can’t make people love you

Bad energies always returns

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Rabbit Cage

The package had finally arrived and I opened it with excitement – I was so happy for my bunny, the cage he had was too small for the so-called dwarf, he’d outgrown it so much it was almost bordering cruel to keep him in the damn thing. That’s the thing with pet shops isn’t it? You can never trust what they say; our female dwarf rabbit became as big as a cat and turned out to be a male.
Moshi was his name, a big fat white rabbit with big floppy lop ears and despite what they say about rabbits and carrots he hated them! Couldn’t coax him to eat a carrot for his life!
Poor thing…
I got my husband to open the package with his craft knife as I didn’t want to slice myself to pieces, it was perfect, but we wasn’t quite ready just yet to get the rabbit to move into his new home, so we propped the cage up against the wall of the utility room until we had the time.
Later on, just before bed-time I decided to move the laundry from the washing machine to the dryer when I saw a shadow moving near the cage. The cage rocked slightly, but I shrugged it off as a breeze that was getting in through the backdoor as it was picking up a wind outside.
I continued to move the clothes and then I heard the cat shriek and run off the washing machine and out the cat flap into the garden. Odd, she never goes out after dark, I thought. I decided to open the backdoor and ask Lissy (our cat) what was wrong? Then I heard a loud crash, looked behind me and saw that the cage gate had opened wide and seemed to have moved slightly out of place. Wearily I went back in the house through the backdoor, constantly keeping my eye on the cage, I saw more shadows around the cage and on in the inside, but I thought perhaps it was my imagination? Perhaps it was only my shadow and the holly tree outside in the moonlight reflecting?
I locked the backdoor and left Lissy outside, she could always come in the way she went out if she wanted to. I heard the sound of a low growl as I went past the cage, it weirded me out. I straightened the cage the best I could, but decided to turn the cage gate towards the wall to prevent it popping open again. As I did this, I felt a cold icy mist around me, but there was nothing there. I also felt something touch my arm as I shut the cage, like something was stopping me. Terrified I half ran out of the utility room to bed and told my husband what had happened.
“No more horror stories for you tonight I think” he said, and took my Stephen King novel away from me and turned the light out, kissed me and laid down to sleep.
Needless to say I couldn’t rest, but eventually I drifted off into a sleep.
I dreamed and in this dream I was compelled to go back to the utility room and when I did, I saw that the backdoor had been opened and the cat was mewling outside crazily and the rabbit hutch shredded on one side and ripped open on the other. I saw blood everywhere, I walked closer and closer to the hutch to see what had happened, but just as I opened the lid of the hutch to peer down, I woke up!
It was morning and I was greeted with a kiss by my husband as always. I told him I had a nightmare and he said to me he wasn’t surprised with all those horror stories and what happened before I went to bed last night.
I said to him “I’ll go and make coffee then”. He simply replied “that would be great”.
I went to the kitchen as usual and saw I had left the utility room door opened. I went to shut it, but noticed the cage was wide opened again and had turned around to face the back door, the door of which was opened!
As I gasped at the sight, I saw another shadow and low laughs, then the cage shut itself.
I stood stunned at the cage and my husband came down and saw me. He kissed me again and said that he would feed the rabbit this morning as I am working myself up about this cage.
I couldn’t move, I had a deep grinding sick feeling low down in my abdomen and an ache of concern at what could have happened? Was my dream real in some surreal way?
My husband came into the kitchen, his face unchanged, he directed me to a chair and sat down next to me and said “Moshi’s dead”. I instantly stood up and started crying.
My hands were in my face and I was marching on the spot with tears streaming down my face. “Oh no, my poor baby, he has been ripped to shreds, it’s the cage, the cage has killed my rabbit, oh I can’t bear to see the blood”.
My husband took me in his arms and tried his best to comfort me.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t be silly, the cage didn’t do this, there was no blood. Looked like he died peacefully in his sleep”; He said, stroking my hair.
“He did”? I asked, looking for more reassurance.
He nodded.
“I have to go see him, it’s so strange he is too young and showed no signs of being ill”. Just as I went to go and see for myself, my husband pulled me back and looked at me firmly and with a voice of stern seriousness said; “That would not be a good idea”.
Quizzically I looked at him. “Why? You said there was no blood”?
“He is in that stereotypical watership down pose, love; I don’t want you seeing that”. From the expression on my husband’s face, I didn’t want to find out whether he was telling the truth or not. So I sat back down, stunned.
“I am going to destroy that cage, May”. He said and I just nodded.
The cage was smashed in and sent to the landfill, on the way back my husband had an accident. Nothing fatal, but it was like they were saying…
“We’ll be back”…
Story inspired by true events but with a fantasy twist.
Because I felt guilty about the new rabbit cage and then two days after buying it the rabbit died, I felt something bad about the cage before he died. I sense something uneasy about it – I have some kind of clairvoyance skills, I have very spiritual leanings and I just sensed something bad about the package when I opened it. My imagination ran riot about the cage, particularly when the rabbit died two days later and the rabbit was meant to have been moved into the cage (he never was, I started to imagine that there was a portal in the cage and that some kind of demon came out and harmed my rabbit – but that’s the mind of a writer isn’t it? We are often irrational creatures.

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Karmic Angel

A man who was too free with his words once spoke unkindly to another, when the victim replied against him, the man asked “What have I ever done to you, for you to say that to me, you don’t know me”!

The stranger replied, “it’s not a matter of what you’ve done to me, it’s what you have done to others in the past, karma has a peculiar way don’t you think”?  The stranger smiled and wings appeared on his back as he walked away, the man too astonished to say anything else, thought about his words and realized that he speaks unkindly to others, and he doesn’t like it when the shoe is on the other foot and his angel taking pity on his bitter life, saved him that day.

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