By the time you get this, I will be somewhere else. I’m not sure where, and I’m not sure how I will get there. But as I write this, I am sure that I won’t be returning. This life, as I know it has been a cluster of both mental disfigurement and oppression. This life in this Black body, colored with coal and Black crayons. A canvass colored of intimidation. A woman in contempt, carrying inordinate guilt of that invisible crime that I have committed against mankind. Beauty not a factor, my strength becoming my weakness. Mouth moving at 100 words per minute so I could convince you- that I am not your enemy.
I am a Black woman. I am sure you know a few. You may have even befriended or dated them. But you have to be one to understand one, fully. It would require a quantum of mental capacity and understanding to feel as we do, as we are the repressed. As I am your Black woman, allow me to give you a small understanding of our love, our history, our present, and our presence. And if you, my reader- are a Black woman…please read and read aloud for the world to hear. You are a Black woman. Representation of the original lands, of golden ancestry, original religion, the Queens in this land of adolescence. You have held the key. But the key is now held and we- have given it away. Lets take it back. The beauty in us is far deeper than the color that is our skin. It has been placed down into the pillar of our soul, which is right now covered with materialistic and hollowed covering put upon us by the very society that is against us and our self development. Don’t let them cover our holes in which we can sprout. We are too powerful. Time and time again we will hear otherwise, but those who disagree will eventually fold under us.
Black woman. Your love is sacred. It is intense and often ignored for those whom are weak, meek, and raising generation of children with an erased Background for the sake of frivolous “gains” like skin pigment, hair type, or eye color. Don’t let that deter you. You are the leaders standing on the sidelines, accept the title in which were born to you.
-Not exactly sure where I was going with this. But after a while, I got stuck. I was like “I am a writer. I write in order to feel something. Because sometimes I don’t feel anything at all. But when I DO feel something, I can produce some intense stuff. I couldn’t do that last night. I was stuck. I realized that my mind is cloudy with exorbitant thoughts and stresses that aren’t allowing me to express myself in a way that I feel I am capable. Work, bills, money, unraveling friendships, vacant relationships, fun, and more. My focus is so off that I can’t even sit down and formulate why I am writing or what I am writing about, no full story. I hate being lost. I hate the fact that I have no experiences that I can close my eyes and pen from. Rewriting the same story, over and over, sometimes with the same words and lines. I need something new. And in order to have something new you have to do something new. So now I have to spend some time with myself. 100% committed. Deep into my literary cave until I can come up with something that I am proud to call my own. Something I can share with the world and they can relate to. My body is like an ocean right now, so many things inside- some spectacular, some scary. Some situations can sink into me, so deep inside that it gets lost and I am unable to find it..and then some things are floating at the top of my shoal. can’t seem to get rid of it.
So, I choose to dip deep within myself. Rediscovering.
Sometimes you have to disconnect with the world in order to fully connect with yourself.