Keep Living and Keep Fighting.

pic via psychoticsystem

I have not said much about Baltimore because there is not much to say that we have not already said. There is nothing we are saying now that hasn’t been said before. I feel like I am being forced to watch a 10 season long marathon of a show that only has one episode. I want to change the channel but Life won’t let me. It’s almost as if Life has become a broken record.

The song goes like this — Headline reads: “Yet another unarmed black man has been killed by the police.” The citizens of the city where the black man became a hashtag fill the streets like the rage that has filled their hearts in remembrance of him. All they want is justice. The media distorts the portrayal of what is really going as if they do not understand that riots are a reaction to something that has done much more damage. We unite in the virtual world. Posts full of pain, confusion, and disgust flood the timeline. Time passes. Tempers once flared are now nothing more than limp wicks waiting to be lit once again.

Another brother is murdered. We are lit once again. We repeat the previous process and the passion dies down until the next unlawful execution, but at this rate, there is becoming less and less of a gap between incidents for us to forget.The frequency of these killings is beginning to trip me out, It’s almost like we’re getting used to this. At times, I sit and wonder what state will be next.

I appreciate the internet for being a wire on which we can send messages of hope and truth, but I am tired of tweeting. I am tired of marching. I am tired of seeing people crying. I am tired. I am stuck. I would say we have to speak with action, but, at this point, I don’t even know what action to take.

The demons in charge of this country have no soul. Nothing can phase them. No tweet, no petition, no riot, nothing. I’m beginning to feel like we can’t win out here. I have not watched any coverage because I have already seen this movie before. I just don’t know how it ends. I don’t know if it ever ends. All I know is, while I am still blessed with the opportunity to be a young black man in possession of his life, I have to live. Not just exist, but live.

My presence is a protest. I am a walking rebellion. A one man riot. One day, they may kill me too. So for now, all I can do is live. I have to live because I honestly don’t know what else to do.

Peace to Baltimore. Peace to Fegurson. Peace to Florida. Peace to New York. Peace to California. Peace to every state in America where black life is not seen as worthy. We are not the criminals. Injustice is the only thing running rampant without a cause. So we have to fight back. In anyway we can. Protest. Yell. Loot. Set cop cars on fire. Tweet. Write. Sing. Scream. Cry. Destroy their property the same way they destroy our families. Do what you must, as long as you fight. All we can do is keep fighting.

Keep living and keep fighting.


Originally published at

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