September 19th 😢

Date: 4/12/2024

September 19th was the day I died. I was reading the article before it even happened. Chandlar, Ted & I were in bed. It was late at night. They asked for some water. I got up to get it and heard someone in the bathroom. Splashing. Talking. 4D sound. I got their cups of water then peaked into where the tub was. An entire bathroom was in black and white (like an old TV show right before my eyes). Except the rest of the house was in color. It was a real scene. There were two little boys taking a bath. They were in black and white also. The older boy (around 10) looked at me and said “it’s you”. He knew me. He seemed somewhat excited to talk. He had a familiar face and very familiar ears. Woodard ears. I knew I was related. I was trying to figure out how? Or when? Possibly a future nephew I had yet to meet (or an older relative who was already gone but in child form). He told me he knew when I was going to die. He saw the article. I was in a recent successful musical group and a popular LA personality. We (a girl group) had preformed our rendition of Knuck If you Buck. I remembered rehearsing for it. I remembered the stage. The live performance. I looked overweight on camera. I wasn’t loud enough on the mic or maybe I couldn’t hear very well when “watching it”. But it hadn’t happened yet? He pulled up the article. There I was. In real time. A star. The model I had always dreamed of. The actress. Photo shoot pictures, performance pictures. A huge article notating all my success and TMZ level details of the mundane. I was dead. 8 days before my birthday. . And only 4 days left before the actual date of my death. Shock doesn’t even describe the emotions. I was in the truly in my last days. I died in Echo Park. I don’t know how, I don’t think I read that part. I was scrolling and I was spiraling too fast. My main concern was the date, location and accolades. How was this article so long? When did I accomplish all these things? Where was I? Why was this future little boy with the Donzell ears telling me? I immediately got out my phone to take video proof of the article. I knew no one would believe me without it. I also didn’t want to wake up and not have proof. The article was on display … large screen (projector like). I was staying with Morgan and Jimmy since I was watching the girls. But they were dropping me back off at a hostel in LA. Bunk beds. They were crowded with everyone’s belongings in such a small space. Familiar vibes swept through the room (similar to MyStay LA off Crenshaw). I told Jimmy about the dream. He seemed interested (keep up it was a dream within a dream). I was scared. But also still in shock trying to explain this little boy in black and white. Why didn’t I read how I died? I had the article. It was right there? Now that I’m awake I’m still asking myself. Did I not want to know? Or was I in denial? ECHO PARK? What was I doing there? If I flew home could I change my destiny? Why don’t I just leave? Or would I possibly hurt someone else if I altered time and location? At some point I was upstairs in a room with two beds. Rachel (Morgan’s neighbor) was packing to go into the military. I was telling the other women in the room about the dream. It was taking me a really long time to explain. I didn’t want to leave anything out. I wanted someone to help. To care. It was real to me. The death date was real. It was coming up so close. Rachel’s response was insensitive and they were more interested in watching a TV show. But she did tell me if I was feeling the way I was it’s good that I recently started a healthier lifestyle. Apparently detoxing and fasting was apparent to her because I had little black skin tags all over me (I suppose this was a shedding of some sort). But the black markings didn’t show up until this portion of the dream in a dream. They are all over me. I do remember thinking I did not want to stay in LA with this new found information. But I also wasn’t sure if I was overreacting. Morgan and Jimmy were headed out to leave. I walked to see them out but farther behind. They were already far enough away I could say goodbye without saying goodbye. On some form of transportation outside of the building I was staying in. There she was. My sister. So close yet so far. The serene quiet pain of knowing you only have four days left is humbling. People easily say live like it’s your last day or what would you do if you only knew you had a week/month/year to live. Even in reality I ask myself that question. Usually with travel, spend time with family, whatever the hell I want type answer. But when it is actually staring you in the face. Why you see your own headline. You’re frozen. You don’t know what to do. I was just trying to figure out one step at a time and make sense of the world around me. I was trying to find who I was. Because who I would be was no more.