Your rebuke has done nothing but make me strong.
I attended Atlanta University. I was tricked, lured by love, mislead by my demon possessed "mother". Let me say, I was dismally disappointed. A so-called University, nothing but a gloried high school. A black school totally run and controlled by imps, jealous, ravenous imps.
I did find solace, I did find joy, in the "stacks", in Trevor Arnett Library. I discovered a life worth living reading every word former slaves dictated to The WPA interviewers. I could hear their voices, interpret their dialect. I did my master's thesis on "Voodoo and Conjure".
I sat in Trevor Arnett, in the "Negro Collection" for nine, ten hours a day, reading, in complete rapture. One gentlemen fascinated me with his testimony concerning this one particular slave that had "healing power". He saved his master's prize thoroughbred when some one slashed his hind leg open. The slave just knelt over the horse, praying, touched the horse and the blood coagulated immediately!
When the interviewer responded in disbelief, re-questioned him, expressed deep doubt, the former slave responded; "What am seen can't be denied."
My experiences can not be denied. It is obvious to me now , who and what my birth mother was. I have to laugh as I count all of her failed attempts to completely ruin me. Having me raped, sexually molested repeatedly, didn't make me promiscuous as was her hope. The nasty-always-having-sex-with-the-door-open-slut made me frigid, ASEXUAL! Chaste, celibate, virtuous! (Ha-ha bitch!)
The drugs! My mother had my medicine cabinet, refrigerator loaded with highly addictive drugs! Some how, for some reason, I did not get addicted! Praise the LORD!
The saddest part of this saga, Martha could have been who and what she wanted, had she left off destroying me, destroying others. Fact is, I would have taken her secrets to my grave also, if she had not MURDERED my granddaddy. That was that 'hoe's undoing.
REVERSE THE CURSE!
"COME YE OUT FROM MONG THEM!"
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