I’m going to begin this post with an apology-to myself for not recording my thoughts more often. At least, not throughout the summer. I mean, I’ve written. I think I’d have a harder time dealing with myself if I didn’t record how I was feeling. But fear has kept me from posting. Having said that, I will apologize to my potential and current followers for not sharing. I believe we can each teach one; and many times, I find that my experiences are beneficial to others. Furthermore, I usually post about more existential realities through anectdotes. Those are philosophical, and always include an allorgical reference which we can each, probably, apply.
But here I go. Lately, I’ve been deep in seclusion, reflection, and space of just being. I’ve become somewhat of a recluse. And that’s on purpose. As an empath, I feel the weight of the world. As if, I’m waiting for my super power to kick in, so I can save the Black people. But alas, it hasn’t happened. And I’m emensely depressed over the fact that people still hate. People are ever so greedy. People seek approval and hyperbolize their lives for attention like a drug. And at the bottom, are yet still, the Blacks. The Blacks, often copied, never respected. Our culture. Often acculturated and appropriated, never given credit. Our hair, often ridiculed, often adopted. Our skin, often seen as an anomally, rarely attributed to its originality of life.
I’m tired. And while one may read this and say, Oh, here’s another angry Black woman. I say, No. I’m not angry. I’m just sad. Sad that in this day and age, people are dominated by White Supremacy. That one would think that I am seeking approval or acceptance from the hegemonic society, or that I at least should, is absurd. I’m no conformist. And I find that anytime I conform, I am depressed. So no thanky you; I am not seeking a seat at the table. I’d like to say, Fuck you. Go fuck yourself, and your job.
But oftentimes, we have to conform. We conform to be able to provide for our families. I lament the years Black people fought for integration. I think it was the biggest disservice to our race. I think the fight should have been, should still be, for access. We want access and equality. Not an opportunity to serve you. Don’t be fooled by our free nation, we are not free. Freedom comes with the equal access to acquiring real wealth. And I’m not speaking of the opportunity to play for your sports teams, or dance on a grand stage, like Beyonce. Black people, like all people are more than your entertaining monkeys. Stop looking to us as your monkeys. I don’t want a banana. I don’t want your foodstamps. I don’t want your handouts. I just want equal access to real contracts, money, owning networks, enterprises, the real money making machines. I don’t want to conform to you; it’d be nice to have others conform to us for a change without it being a conformity to our culture. Stop using us without giving a rat’s ass how it came to be; what others suffered to bring that to you; stop consuming our gifts as a birthright, and taking the credit for it. Stop White Supremacy.
I want the world to really be my oyster. However, I don’t want to be the oyster. When you see a Black person, try to forget what you think about them. Remove the stereotypes of what you think a Black person is. We are not angry, aggressive, theives, killers, gangbangers. And we don’t all like hip-hop or live a hip-hop lifestyle. I love hip-hop-the music, the elements, the artform. People watch videos, and think they are adopting a hip-hop lifestyle, still, cultural appropriation-albeit wrong-and want to act Black, whatever their notions of Black is, and yet, don’t really want to BE Black. They love what is perceived as Black culture, as if it’s wrapped in hip-hop, without the traumas of being Black. Black is not a culture, it is not a stain upon life. Black is a codefied word to describe peoples having African ancestry. Can you imagine thinking that a Black person from Papua New Ginea is hip-hop. Well, with the way of the world, who knows? Maybe their young people are embracing hip-hop. But when you find Europeans and Asians embracing hip-hop, without any respect to its founding people, I cringe.
Lingering
Journey of a Culture Carrier 