Johanny Ortega | Have A Cup Of Johanny LLC

The Ordinary Bruja

For fans of Mexican Gothic and The Inheritance of Orquídea Divina, The Ordinary Bruja is a psychological horror and magical realism novel about grief, ancestral secrets, Dominican brujería, and one woman’s fight to reclaim the magic her family tried to bury.

When strange messages appear in mirrors, and the scent of cigar smoke follows her through her small Ohio hometown, Marisol Espinal must confront the ghosts of her past, the truth about her mother’s death, and the family curse waiting for her on Hallowthorn Hill.

Her family buried the magic. Now it wants out.

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Dear Quarantine Diary: Day 53


The Musings of a Complicated Woman

When are we going to understand #blacklivesmatter?

https://play.ht/articles/1caefa14811d

Courtesy of blklivesmatter IG

I’m not black. I’m white-skinned Latina with serious curls. But you will not hear me say brown lives matter or all lives matter. Instead, I say #blacklivesmatter.

It’s a conundrum, you see. Well, not really. It’s simple. I know embracing #blacklivesmatter is not an exclusive ideology but an inclusive one. I know that demanding acknowledgment of the sacredness of the lives of a black man, a black woman, a black child, will encompass all marginalized groups. But we start there.

We haven’t even started to understand the concept, have we?

We still debate about what lives matter more, while black unarmed men continue to die, for no other reason than being black. Although slavery ended years ago, black people still leave in fear that a mask, hoodie, or a jog may take away their life.

The injustices have been too much and they keep piling on. It is just not fair.

It was not long ago Dr. Martin Luther King had a dream, that men would not be judged by the color of their skin but what’s in their heart. Yet here we are judging. Better yet, executing without even a trial. It is just not fair.

To be put into ships and forced into servitude. To be stripped of all human rights. To be denied the pursuit of wealth. To be cheated and told you are no longer a slave, but I will still treat you as such. For years this song and dance have kept on, moving on. It is just not fair.

To watch a black mother, tell her black son to be aware of the white cop, sent chills down my spine. No mother should have to tell her son that. No young man should carry that burden on his back. And I can just imagine the anguish of the wait, as her baby boy drives away. Wondering if she would see him again. It is just not fair.

To see white-armed men, the epitome of blind privilege, crying for their rights, makes me laugh at the hypocrisy of it all. Are we so blind by our biases that we cannot see what’s right in front? Have we gone numb to it all and shrugged our shoulders and say I dunno?

I laugh and laugh at the hypocrisy of it all because I don’t want to cry. It is just not fair.

How many more black unarmed men must die for you to realize #blacklivesmatter?


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