Stagnation is the quickest way to the grave, without actually killing yourself.

That being said, the depth of your personal experiences are not measured by the amount of money you throw at them.

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Bad Roommate/don’t play with spirits

Real talk, I lived w/ this really toxic unhealthy white dude for a short period of time with my ex. He would do shit like disappear for several days and call us to demand bill money that didn’t make sense, also he regularly stole stuff from people’s houses (he was a mover), he also built a fort out of couches of which there were six, made out apt into a maze (it was small and one bedroom but he did it) and put black lights in all the lights. A real piece of work I tell ya.

Anyways we got a Ouija board mind you the rest of the ppl living there were white and we loved right next to a graveyard. I done told those crackers “this is an awful idea”. Nobody listened, I gave them explicit rules #1 was “invite nothing to stay or interact, and do not do this alone”.

For a few weeks I thought everything was good until I started having nightmare, Nick (the dangerous rm) started acting weirder and weirder. One day my ex and I got home while walking past the little tent that Nick and his gf had built around their bed I looked over at the couch, and there was a literal physical entity on one of the couches. He was shadowy like grey sepia tone. But visible enough that I could see the outlines of his clothes. So like I was always told I turned away and pretended I didn’t see anything, it turned and fucking looked at me.

I ran into the room grabbed the table the Nick had turned into a Ouija board. Grabbed the salt and my travel alter bag, made a circle around my ex, the table and my supplies. Around that time the whole apt walls and all started wubbing like they had base in them. I went to start cleansing the table and cutting this things tie to it, and Ash started falling from the ceiling. It didn’t come from anywhere I had lit no candles and fucking ash fell.

Once I got through my make shift banishment the walls stopped throbbing. I packed up my shit and we went to my dad’s.

The next day Nick called and asked where we had gone, we told him the story, he asked us to come over and retell it. After which he starts yelling at both of us cause “that shit isn’t real”. Out of the corner of my eye in broad daylight I see that things face stretching out of the dry wall like it’s trying to break through. I told them we had to stop cause he was trying to come back. Nick’s white Satan ass said “Perfect negativity draws him in”. This asshole had been calling this thing and recording him for weeks and was pissed “kicked it out without asking”.

Needless to say we moved out that week. But that thing followed us home to my dad’s house. It took a year of regular meditation and smoke cleansing to get it to go away. He followed a friend who moved in with us then back to his parents and after that I don’t know where he went.

Yeah a roommate got me haunted. I have no fear of the dead, but there are some spirits that have never been dead, or inhabited this world as we understand it, corporeally. Also what is it with White folk and ouija boards???? Like just follow the damn rules.

 Helping Becomes Vice// Healthy Boundaries 

Some of us are of the disposition where we like to help people. It seems like a perfectly good plan until it becomes of personal detriment. Now you may ask “HOW COULD HELPING PEOPLE EVER BE BAD!?” To that I would say “”Have you actually met people? We are bastards”.

It’s true that when in doubt humanity often times manages to take advantage of us all, and in some cases when you give too much, you really just played yourself.

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