The Black Magician

| CLXV |

Magick has turned me into an asshole. I know it is considered unevolved to indulge in profanity but what other term better embodies the callus of having to view the man who was once donned “My Pharaoh” as an ATM and the child who was once the only reason for my heartbeat as a distraction? The fervent search for my purpose of incarnating and the subsequent will to carry it out has, indeed, turned me into a selfish, self-realized and actualized asshole. Am I saying that I no longer love my husband or need my child? Not entirely or, maybe, I AM.

I have agape for the one who holds the paper purporting my soul’s possession, in terms of wishing him his claim to the same path I AM on, if it were in his reach. The truth is, it simply isn’t. How can anyone, male or female, black, white or otherwise, be magickally invested in someone who doesn’t see your divinity and despite your best effort, refuses to see their own? I can not and will not exhaust my precious energy creating more monotony than with what the Universe has provided me. While I run the maze of life, I resolve to leave him on the hamster wheel that brings him such comfort and familiarity. I have deemed it impossible to remain soft while the Universe tries me intellectually. For I know myself to be the loftiest of its chosen children .

It took great effort and attention to universal patterns to realize that his current place in my life serves as a means to an end. I’d be denying myself what is solely mine if I ignored this reality and took pity on him or misprioritized aged sentimentality for our dead marriage. The undocumented vows we exchanged are simply irrelevant to my vision for my life at this point.

I AM this consciousness, called Lauren Hunter, in this vessel, in this place in “time”, just once. In my Godly estimation, who is he to dictate how my Earthly existence is to be experienced? Now, it would be a horrible mistruth if I said that this choice perspective didn’t develop until I began chasing magick. I began the work of letting us go long before receiving third party confirmation from beyond that it was bound to eventually end. After an overt supernatural sign, I along with my ancestors, the powers and hundreds of lwa in my corner, divorced him culturally when he showed us all that he did not and will not worship me as I deserve;  as I once worshipped him. When my Caribbean roots required that I connect with those of my European, the decision to divorce was finalized. But we would not do so until he served his apparent reason for incarnating, to see me through. And through I will make it. In the meantime, I shower him with all the "Yes Daddy"s and "Please Daddy"s in order to receive my tithes. Aren’t I such a benevolent God? Who is there to frown on my working of wickedness? Not a soul. I AM.

Now, in regards to my child, my first and only, my cutting the umbilical cord serves the same purpose as does milking my “husbandly owner”. Long before my European bloodline evidenced less recessive, my daughter found better financial and, somewhat, emotional support in the care of my parents. Until recently, I always had employment but income that only took care of the essentials. I previously suffered from clairsentience only, but as of recent, have been propelled into the realms of both clairvoyance and cognizance. At times it leaves me disconnected and even depressed. Once I determined my path though, the Universe validated my eternally wise decision to simply let them have her until she comes of age. Let it be known that I AM far too spiritually aggressive. and connected to go without working on her and securing our celestial bond and inevitable future. SHE IS her mother and I AM my daughter.

As so above, so below,

The Huntress