Memorial Tree for our passed Fire Tender (Future visual signpost of surviving the year of Hell)

Khari's beloved Bear, Richard, seemed to have one last joke to play on me--a tree.

Surprise, your RC brother wants an oak tree.

Khari wanted a tree in the west of the lawn area for shade. And privacy. 

In my head, it's to mess up the feng shi (how is that spelled?). And my personal view.

We discussed getting a cherry tree. I pushed for a cherry tree. Oriental. Or fruit.

Yet, no buying happened. 

I would blame the cost of the garden project, but I really think that was simply not the right type of tree. Simply, Richard was going to be his memorial tree. It had to be. 

Because of the Donna Tree.

My Mother-in-law Tree.

Donna Tree--resting place of my mother-in-law.

For those who do not already know the story, the tree gracing the east of my lawn sprouted in a bowl of nuts at my mother-in-law's house. Donna planted it into a pot. Later, she gave it to us. After her suicide, Khari put some of her mom's ashes at the base of that tree; hence, in my head, it's her final resting place, making my yard, a graveyard. 

Sometimes, when I have trouble with her niece, I talk to her tree. 

After all, I can't talk to my dad. 

And the only thing I have from him, I got two decades after he died; then we allowed this to happen because . . . 

My dad's bench--not an outside bench.

It was never meant to be an outside bench. Be placed under a tree. Unpainted for years.

But in Khari World 24/7/365, things like this happen because if it doesn't concern Khari, who cares? Oh you laugh, yet I have a tree. A Richard Tree. Not a Dad Tree. Khari World. 

Last year, I almost died.

Correction: died.

Corrections: Died-s.

Oh, no--didn't died. No ambulances. Therefore, not the real thing, And Bear died. Ouch. 

Still, I wanted a ribbon. For running the race. Instead I got a Rosicrucian Goat Gag. 

Let me run down my 2024 for you to allow to understand my future screaming. 

On the fourth day of 2024, January, I was gifted by my muse with two characters, Homer and Echo. I met the two before; but never together. 4'11" tattooed child of a rock star and a police officer meets post traumatic stress astromarine with a bad attitude problem. 

Then I get the mother of all migraines. Two days and nights. Stinks of black magick. 

Learn that my youngest (seventeen years younger than me) sister, Mistletoe, had declared that I was not a real witch, or family member; and that she wanted me to have no contact with her, or her two sons because I had proven time and again that I had wanted nothing to do with the family. Therefore, I was to cease to send her letters, Wiccan rituals, and test chapters from my stories because she had still had vivid memories of my father committing an unspeakable crime against her. 

Too bad that Mistletoe was only one, maybe one and an half, year old when my father died in 1984. I was eighteen. There is no way that she has a memory of him actually doing that sin--no, we will look elsewhere . . . your real father, the town butcher, the man that my sainted mother had the affair with (her fourth affair), oh could he be the criminal?

After a Family Zine series started on 28 August 2021, because Mistletoe sent a Legal Threat to Khari's phone, saying that she would get me arrested for not turning my father in for that alleged crime--on 5 January 2024, it was over--Mistletoe declared, "No More!"

I am not sure how many pages I inflicted on the innocent members of my bloodline. 

28th of August 2021 was the third anniversary of the Board Meeting that resulted in my resignation from Banefire Community Church "the Open Full people" on 13/16 September 2019, so that they seal the door under "Safe and Sober,"; and the second of the business sabotage by Meltdown Girl of my Amazon publisher account (claim of nonpayment). 

Oh, my Good Sister, "I am not signing the paperwork to commit my brother," Faith, on 28 August 2021 was being removed from life support, so Covid could kill her. 

Yeah, Mistletoe was threatening me . . . through Khari's phone . . . with cops.

Because I was writing science fiction as Michael Ramalia.

I shit you not. 

Because if Mistletoe can't be a successful, famous writer, then no one else in the family can either. 

Even if she has to get you charged with crimes from forty years in the past.

Sadly, for her, back in 1997, the year before I met Khari, me and Maggie Moonstone had started to plan for this sad day. 

"Nuclear revenge weapons engaged. No survivors expected. If I go to jail, all go to prison."

A warning letter was mailed. It was ignored. The two bad sisters probably thought it was a bluff. They were wrong. 

Supervillains don't bluff. 

Rocket two went out on schedule.

Every Wiccan holiday, an eight page letter was written and sent out by me. Eight letters a year. I was a clockwork monkey. A newsletter king. A Jewish publisher. Met my schedule. 

You see, I was experienced. 

The rest of my family had denied me, the right of being a writer. "Oh, you must obtain the permission of everyone in your bloodline to be an author, or to have an education."

Fine . . . I am a minister, it's America. 

Can you stop me now?

As a courtesy, I tried to bring Mistletoe back into my good graces. But a nice story about my father, the Catholic, set her off. Or was it Circuit Mother? Or the Voices of the Sabbats?

"Please refrain from sending letters and your 'wiccan rituals.' I do not need to be sent wiccan rituals as I am a wiccan and a witch. We are not family, You have made that clear on numerous occasions. I do not want you to have any contact with myself or my children."

Note well the words said by Mistletoe on January 5, 2024 . . . because I wonder.

I don't read these words until I get out of a Two Day and Night Long migraine. 

Tinged with black magick.

Did my ignorant little sister burn my Christmas Peace Offering letter, the opening of Circuit Maiden, and my signature Open Full Moon ritual as she cursed me?!?

Because if so, welcome to being my companion on my Ordeal Year. 

Was it wrong for me to say, "Let me introduce you to Forty-Two Judges of the Negative Confession--they are the backbone of the Thelemic and Hermetic Golden Dawn system."

Seriously, my first reaction was, "Bitch, I am a high grade initiate. Welcome to my mad scientist lab. Where are my HOMSI binders? Prepare for remote initiation--speed round."

And then I remembered why my first apprentice called me, an evil bastard. 

There's nothing worse that I can do to her, than let live her life as it currently is. 

Yeah, I don't want to initiate her. Let her life continue to suck. Maybe she deserves it.

No, any energies that I toss at her, might change her life. For the better. Why do her a favor? Why give her some Horus energy? Or Dark Isis? I got better things to do. 

Besides, I was overdue my Ordeal Year. Our insurance sucked---mine and Khari's (blame head of school district)--still adjusting migraine meds. Trying to recover. Better things . . . 

January, lots of migraines. Saint level. Egyptian court. Chess with a cat, a dog, and a bird. 

Oh, and a serious conversation with the Goddess of Creation about me wanting to die--and her outright refusal to accept my plea of "Guilty of all charges--acceptance of death."

I might have been Wonder Woman kicked out of her office. She who is Nameless and the Namer. Might have fallen from the highest place in creation to the lowest.

Touching briefly all the planes. 

Like a string in a pearl necklace. 

It was a really bad migraine. 

You could tell because we crash landed next to that gaudy cross that smug bastard left in Hell. You know that smug bastard. Jesus. He has to be smug. Like my mom. Lilith was in Hell for two seconds, I think, before her ghost started visiting me. 

"I am too good for this place. Where are the yard sales? Give me a soul for a nickel."

The rest of year was a Year and a Day. Seriously. Ordeal.

March. Buddha Fields. "What do you mean that the Goddess installed a life recall device?"

April--first heavy black magick attack, so bad, it makes the calendar.

May 28 to June 4--Norse Sacrifice. Yeah, I try to divorce my polyamourous wife, so Richard could be with her with a clear conscience. If Khari would have mentioned how many days it had been, well, I have tried harder. As it was, the Council of Eight Goddesses, in particular the Goddesses of Snakes and Spiders, end having to trick me out of Hell to save my life. aka accepting Khari's help topside. 

Why? Wait for it.

Late June, not only am I being attacked by black magick, I am being cyberstalked. By Mistletoe. Whose posts are showing up first on my Facebook. False positivity. 

"A real friend always lifts you up, and never abandons you."

And exactly who are you upset with today, ask all your friends and coworkers.

Gee, no wonder you can't get a literary agent, or any lucky breaks in life. You secretly criticize everyone around you with positive memes. I have no idea who my Bad Sister was upset with--it couldn't be me, she wanted no contact--but it melted my laptop.

Melted all computers. And what was left of my health. 

In late July, I got tired of being attacked by black magick. No clue of who it was. I had left all my esoteric communities years earlier. Thelema in 2001, when Master Cherubim and me had our falling out over the Officer Handbook; Hermetic Golden Dawn in 2016 when the Third Order kicked me for not sending Native Son students for his advanced Inner Order training course (ironically after I got published in the Flying Roll Commentary book, making me a "real expert"); and 2019 Denver Capital Hill Wicca and witchcraft for violating Safe and Sober community policies . . . no longer a player, I was. So who?!?

July 21, 2024, I performed a Lesser Invoking Ritual of the Pentagram. 

The first time that I had used any ritual of the Golden Dawn system since my exile in 2016. 

I burned with hellfire for ten days and nights. 

Partially, because I had (soulwise) been in Hell with my demon since February. 

Oh, did I mention that I might have been infested with a demon on the day of my birth?

Something that my not-so-good friend Richard would have found out when he died.

For years, Bear thought that I was a bad choice for Hierophant. And Chief Adept. That Khari would be a better choice. I wonder if he still feels that way. 

By the time, he died, I was no infested. 

But I was still trying to die. I had not left Hell for Khari. I wanted him to be with her. 

To be free of her. 

Then he died. Fatal heart attack. Runs in his family. 

The two of us argued in Hell for weeks. 

My health did not improve until Khari performed magick three times against the person that she suspected of being behind my troubles. In the end, she went Sheriff of Denver. But that is exactly why I gave her that power a decade earlier, when I married her, ironically against the very family member that attended our wedding, attempting black magick against us that day too. Some family, I got, right? 

Rich's funeral was delayed from early August to mid-August. Then Khari brought back Covid from that. Being weakened, I almost died again. Oh, I had died. Earlier. Twice. 

Then one of my critical sisters reaches out, after a silence on my part of nine months, to try to reset our relationship. My brain wanted to explode. My memories had holes. 

My demon had burned off. I was hiding that fact from Khari. Faking that I was okay. 

Finally, we did the memorial on October 12th. And it's Love Fest. "Rich was such a good son. It was so unfair that he did get to raise a family." Sitting next to me is the business partner who he was dating, who I tried to divorce through a Norse Sacrifice to overcome his discomfort, a business partner who used black magick (mind control--lust/love spells) to get my Mormon Wife--hence my Secret Daughter--out of my life.

I want to hit Rich in the face with a brick. 

But I don't. Instead I make the next day, my Past Hierophant Day. Especially after hearing Khari say that the Norse Three Toast Ritual needs to be ran on a timer.

Oh, and I remembered my wedding date for first time in ten years--same day as my US Army enslavement date--October 18th. 

Khari accepted my resignation . . . her first real act as Chief was to steal Forty-Two Judges idea to smite Trump . . . Rich, do you still think that she better than me in that office?

Oh well, you have a tree in your name to mark the time since Khari took over Bast Temple. Long may Khari reign. Because I don't plan on being here long. 

No, I am going back to Hell. If there's anything more damaging than my family, I am thinking that it's having to give into any damn desire you and Khari have, sacrificing other option because Khari's World matters, 24/7/365. 

The only goal allowed is whatever Khari's obsessed about. 

Heaven help me because a year and a day after my sister tossed me out of my family, I was still standing in Hell. I kid you not. My wife is at work. First time on all my meds . . . but first day only, so not really. And 6 January 2025, they are putting on the new roof. 

Strip in, because 2025 is still Hell, except it's in the Sun and that damn Garden. 

Oh now, I have two Memorial Trees. 

A Mother-in-Law Tree. And a Disapproving Boyfriend/RC Brother Tree. Fuck me over.