no justice, no peace
i’m not sure i really believe in that statement. not sure whether to follow the crowd on that one? seems full of hatred.
or stand alone. like i have been.
we all going through some really tough tough ish. we all watching blk and brn people murdered by murderous cops. we all struggling to cope with it. we all dealing with systemic racism and its affects on our collective psyches. we all fighting back against it with the tools at our disposal.
i’m dealing with murder by cop, systemic racism, abuse, and something else — which no one will talk about. something big, and haunting. and instead of compassion, i received hatred. for something i didn’t even know was happening. i remember being on the verge of suicide. and people laughing and producing art. it was the worst shit i’ve ever experienced. and unfortunately, i don’t have a fam to protect me. because i couldn’t lie, or bury the truth, anymore.
i just thought? this can’t be real. it’s a dream. no one could be that calculating, and cruel. at least, not a black person. that’s not possible. we’re better than that! and then i realized,
no. we’re not.
i can promise this? never again will i look at a person’s skin? and think it means anything. it doesn’t. it has nothing to do with the content of your charcter. you can be a white murder, or a black one. hate is hate. it has no color.
d.r.e.a.m. — my kids are not “aliens”, they are — children. language, is very important.
to answer talib’s question…the same side i’ve always been on:
i think ya’ll may be the ones who really need to do some soul searching. silence can be very loud. musical. and poetic. and filled with monetary benefits.
why would you allow a man to be crucified for your artistic endeavors? label him evil? knowing full well that it wasn’t his fault. create art of his pain, and leave him to rot?
ask yourself that question. search your souls. cuz that ain’t me ya’ll. and i think you know it.
i’m a really good woman.