Warcries (Women & War III): Keep YOUR Money
Today, while walking with a friend through affluent side of Harlem I saw a black man with a tee-shirt that stated simply with a phat paper roll the following: Money over everything. Needless, to say I got choked up and the tears I held back wasn’t out of joy.
As a struggling artist I have been through many levels of socio-cultural, economics & the communities bound by the tyranny of money.
That’s right M-O-N-E-Y.
I have to be honest, I HATE MONEY! Seriously. Why do you think a person like me is still poor? I hate the idea of money and what it does. It separates people from people. And yet I am conflicted because I want out of Poverty Hell.
And the only way to do that is you guessed it: Work. WORK AND MAKE MONEY.
People might not think that this is work right here, but its is the second hardest job I have had. Soldiering (and not dying of losing my mind being third), MOTHERHOOD being the first. So in order to make money I decided to sell out my time. I approached place after place with project ideas for money. And was rejected mostly. And some not. Needless again, I hate myself for doing it for MONEY.
But when I wrote WARCRIES it was different. I fell in love. I FELL HARD and I am still in love. And hopefully that love will bring in money. But I can’t chase love anymore. I AM ABOUT TO BE 36 years old. I AM IN LOVE, BUT I ALSO HAVE TO BE SMART. TOO MANY TRAPS OUT THERE.
Meaning affluent people keep their money, until they trust you. Then they bank on you, or rather bet on you until you drop dead. I don’t see this type of crowd here loving my work. I only see when some curiously poke their heads in and say: Oh well, we’ll come back because YOU HAVEN’T DRAWN a crowd. WHY? Why would anyone be so cryptic in their way of saying “WE don’t think highly of you?” That is until I have made it, then it’s “We ALWAYS knew!”
Please, if you are from that crowd keep your money. YOU HEAR ME? KEEP your money. I NEED IT, but goddammit if I WANT IT! I am trying to preserve the little of my soul that I have left. For example, to the nameless sir who walked away from the homeless man without glancing at him…
YOU CAN GUESS MY TRUE FEELINGS.
KEEP! I would rather just hold on to MY SOUL a little longer.
For everyone else PLEASE SUPPORT. This is not just my book, IT’S OUR VOICE.
MUCH LOVE & BLESSINGS.