Left Behind

Before I decided to compose this, I was scrolling down Facebook when I saw an article about Beyoncé creating a scholarship for young women. As celebrities have created different scholarships & award programs for certain groups, many others blindly congratulate those celebrities for doing such wonderful things for “lesser” people. For years, I have felt ashamed for feeling left out, but I do feel left out. When I was growing up, there wasn’t any focus on the youth of my generation. I didn’t see hope being offered. Instead, I was told not to be a bitch. Of every person I’ve met in my life, there was one who has said my exact words about the past: it’s what makes us who we are today & cannot be forgotten. Others have quickly told me that I should just let it go & get over it. What happened to “If we forget our past, we are doomed to repeat it”? It’s because of my past I am in this state of mind, feeling jealousy of those who are receiving the help that I needed when I was still a child. We were told to do well in high school so we can go to college, but they didn’t tell us how expensive college was. They surely didn’t tell us about the loans we’d have to take out just to get such an education. I’ve read about study abroad programs for certain age groups. I’ve seen assistance programs specifically for women. Well, how am I supposed to NOT feel like the world is against the black man when my opportunities have to be taken? Even when I work to earn such, I’m still not qualified to be recognized as a human being who needs the same help as everyone else. Since my past & throughout my adult life, it has been expected of me to just know how to be a man & survive on my own without help. Then, when I attempt that, I’m not recognized by the group who set me on such a path. I’m then scolded by the group who disagrees with such a way of thinking, but where was this group when the former was telling me to think such a way? This is why I don’t listen to others anymore. They all wait until I’m already walking in a direction before they tell me that I’m going the wrong way. How am I supposed to feel like I’m equal when I’m shown that I’m not?

Generational Cycle

This morning I woke up shortly after 4 am due to insomnia led by anxiety. A couple of hours later, my upstairs neighbors awaken. Not to long after they woke up, I started hearing the boyfriend’s voice. I didn’t really pay much attention until I heard one of the children crying (there is a boy & a girl, neither old enough for school yet). Then I heard their mother raising her voice at the crying child. I cannot say for certain what was happening, but it reminded me of my own childhood. One night going into the morning, specifically, my father misplaced one of his porn videos. Instead of looking hard enough, he woke up my brother, sister & me to blame us for taking it. We got beaten then forced to search for something we had no idea where it would be or even what it was (I was 11, sister 13, brother 15). My sister & I blamed our older brother because he started spending time with friends away from home, sometimes being gone for days at a time. We were scare, tired, & confused. Plus, we didn’t like our brother. This all started not too long after midnight & lasted all the way up to 6 am when he finally found his porn. Instead of apologizing to us, he made my sister & me apologize to our brother then said, “Well, it’s 6 o’clock. Time for y’all to get ready for school.” 

Getting back to my neighbors, the woman of the apartment tells her kids not to talk to just anyone (all of us have heard &/or told our own not to talk to strangers). I do understand that their are some sick people in the world, but that coincides with my point. It all starts at home. How did those people become sick minded? I’m guessing the same way many of us became distrusting of each other. When we’re told not to talk to people, especially when they’re being nice, but endure the worst abuse within our own homes, that defeats the purpose of teaching to not trust the wrong people. Are those strangers the “wrong people” simply because they’re strangers? Why would I choose an abusive father over a genuinely kind-hearted stranger? Blood is only thicker than water in the literal since, but loyalty is earned, at least for me. I learned the hard way that blood does not does not entitle such loyalty. 

When are we going to understand that what we perceive as discipline is simply abuse?

When It Happens

The topic of suicide is one of much controversy due to the ideals of religion & morality. Among the living, the argument is whether or not an individual has the right to choose when they want to die. Religion says that suicide is the unforgivable sin. Those not as radical but still believe that suicide is immoral argue that suicidal people are selfish. Those who are like minded as me argue that it’s selfish & immoral for anyone to demand such control over another’s life, especially when those arrogant types have no care for the shit we have to call lives. Life is NOT a blessing, at least not for everyone. 

Karma is defined, in simple terms, as what goes around comes around, which is why I do not believe in it. I don’t have to hold onto my past to feel the way I do because, since the past up to this very day, my life has been pure hell… PURE HELL. I didn’t ask for this existence, yet I owe it & actual money to everyone else FOR it?! How am I selfish? When I do succeed with suicide (& eventually I will), it will be justified regardless of who disagrees.

Do As I Say, Not As I Do 

​You shouldn’t talk down on yourself would have been great advice if it wasn’t for experiences. Forgotten history is doomed to be repeated kinda cancels that last advice though. Seriously, how can anyone expect me or anyone else to follow these confusing rules? We should let go of our pasts so we can risk repeating them? Am I missing something? To break it down, I’ll go back to my initial opening. 

According to society & every hypocrite in it, talking negatively about oneself is frowned upon, but how can anyone expect a person to say all the wonderful things about himself/herself that wasn’t instilled in his/her mentality? Specifically, I grew up being mocked & ridiculed by family, peers, family of peers, adults, etc. It didn’t stop… There’s no “until”. It just hasn’t stopped. I got no encouragement, so how the fuck am I expected to believe that I’m this great person on my own? According to definition, that’s narcissism, arrogance, conceit, & delusion, to be the one & only person who doesn’t think I suck. 

No, this isn’t for pity, but rather my continued effort in pointing out to society that it’s rules & shit don’t work. 

From Either Side (continued series)

It was some years ago when I thought of a song idea entitled From Either Side, the subject being on experiencing racism & hate from other black people. From either side, I am hated & have tried talking about this since before my song idea. Unfortunately, my preferred audience was comprised of those to whom my words were directed, which meant that the guilty wasn’t going to stand for accusations. Well after over a decade, nothing has changed.

I know the difference between those who dislike me for something I’ve actually said or done (whether offensively or not) & those who dislike me because of my appearance alone, & the majority has always consisted of those who chose to judge. For years, I have even tried to go out of my way just to avoid being around people, not because I simply dislike people & want to be anti-social, but because I am sick of being treated like shit just because of WHAT I am, and I no longer accept the bullshit excuse that that’s the way of the world. Who makes up the fucking world? In fact, it was some years ago when someone asked me a similar question in response to my declaration of disliking society, the question being who makes up society? & the answer being we do. Well, just like to that question, this present question gets the same response: BULLSHIT. Yes, we do make up society. So what’s the excuse of society being so shitty? Because we’re not “perfect”? What the fuck is “perfect” anyway? Perfection is relative. What’s perfect to me isn’t going to be perfect to anyone else, but everyone is stuck on the idea that “perfect” is meant to define a singular entity or state of being.

I don’t care about popularity. If my mere existence is never acknowledged again, I could live with that because I would be free of the stares, the actions used as cover just to look at me, the random people telling me all about their problems only to tell me to get over mine. I’m sick of looking up to find some lookin-ass mofo just watching me because I’m black. I’m sick of black people blatantly being rude because they consider me as “lame”, or maybe they hate the fact that I have something they don’t & decide to disrespect me.

There is NO excuse for humans acting as such. If I am to recognize that we as people make up this society, we are the ones making it suck the way it does, & it isn’t changing because people don’t want to change. I’m not going to give some “have hope” conclusion. There is no hope. Those who are content with the way life is are the ones who either perpetuate the shittiness or ignore the shit because it doesn’t affect them as it affects others. Yeah, I know I talk a lot of shit, but it’s hard not to when the shit pile is above head.

Pizza Slices

My supervisor has taken it upon herself to provide me with random food items because I had gone an entire work shift without taking a break. I wanted to refuse, but the religious call that “blocking their blessings” (that in itself should clarify the selfishness of religious people: they don’t help others because it’s in their hearts to do so, but because they are hoping for something in return, regardless of however they receive their repayment). Well, I’ve accepted her offerings as a way of showing gratitude to someone who has gone out of her way to bring me food. Unfortunately, she’s been bringing all the foods I’ve stopped eating, but in my mind, refusal equates to being unappreciative no matter how sick I’ve been from eating those gifts.

(If you didn’t see the analogy coming by now, you really have no idea who I am.) This composition isn’t about food or work, but it’s a direct explanation of my experiences with people. I’ve recently returned to social media (just Facebook for now) after a couple of weeks of silence. I had all intentions of not returning, but I guess I just really cannot bear being alone. The reason behind such a decision comes from the experiences I’ve had of people feeling offended whenever they give advice for me to “live a happier life” but such advice never works out for me.

I know I’m hungry & need to eat, but when I’m not home, the likelihood of me being able to take care of myself is basically non-existent. When I’m not home & someone offers what I need, beggars cannot be choosers, & I feel obligated to accept whatever assistance is provided despite the fact that such assistance harms me more than refusing said help; (translation) I know I need positive people in my life, but when I’m not in my right state of mind, the likelihood of me being able to take care of myself is basically non-existent. When I’m dealing with a mental episode & someone tries to give me advice, I have to recognize that they’re trying to help, & I feel obligated to accept such help even though it makes my mind race even worse.

Now, I have a choice: I can either eat these pizza slices & risk regurgitating them later or throw them away & go hungry until 5 this evening. Whenever I am attacked by these disorders, I know what will help me, but getting that help is the challenge because it requires the involvement of other people. In this society, we are told that we don’t need others to survive, to be happy, to enjoy life, but I beg to differ.

Many people have turned to me for advice or have just taken it freely because I’ve been through more than the average human. One more bit of advice I can give is that no human being can survive alone. If you think you can, try it. Try to live your lives without ANYONE in it outside of you. Go an entire month without talking to anyone, phone, text, social media, or other. Leave your jobs. Don’t go shopping anywhere, including online. Stop your side gigs. Cancel those plans of going to the clubs, bars, or out of town. I can tell you, now, that you wouldn’t make it far. Everything you take for granted makes you think that you don’t need anything or anyone, but if those constants were suddenly removed from your lives, you would have a clearer understanding of how wrong you are if you honestly believe that you don’t need anyone in your lives.

Die Slowly

CloseStyle: MLA APA Chicago

“Inanition.” Merriam-Webster.com. Merriam-Webster, n.d. Web. 3 Mar. 2017.


Definition of inanition

  1. :  the quality or state of being empty:

    • a:  the exhausted condition that results from lack of food and water

    • b :  the absence or loss of social, moral, or intellectual vitality or vigor

I’ve finally gone “silent”, not literally but methodically, meaning that I’ve disassociated myself with every person I’ve ever known. Why? Well, after years of explaining the same shit when people are incapable of really understanding what I’ve explained, I’m finally tired. The last public announcement I made via social media was that I was going to work on self termination. I still am, but for me, it is going to take time.

In the mean time, I try to keep myself focused on work, but reviewing different types of deaths regularly makes me more envious of the dead. I’ve never heard of many of them, but also I didn’t really think some of these causes were real. Today, I came across one of a woman who died of inanition: she literally died because she felt empty. A couple of months ago, I read an article that severe emotional trauma can cause heart damage that can lead to death. Wow. So, for all of these years of claiming that I’m dying slowly (to myself), I actually have been. I understand that as soon as life begins it is on its journey to death, but that’s assuming that said life is relatively pleasant.

I’ve been through heaven, meaning that I live in hell. For years I’ve been told by many people that I need to stop living in the past, yet 4 mental health professionals had advised me that I must confront my past if I expect to get over it. I tried that & was denied that chance. Ironically, the object of my confrontation (biological father) always… ALWAYS talked about his past, & not just his past but the same words every conversation. I could literally tell it with him verbatim, no exaggeration.

Next, I have tried expressing to people who were supposedly close to me that I need more than just random, short conversations every once in a while. Everyone else has at least one other person with whom they interact daily, not just on the phone nor social media, but in person. I haven’t had that in years & it has affected me to the point that I have no choice but to live the rest of my life alone (when I say “the rest”, I’m not necessarily predicting more years).

I don’t want to be alone, but at this point, I don’t have a choice. I don’t know how to communicate with people just to be sociable. Hell, I was having a hard time with that already before the life of solitude. Then, today provided me with more evidence (that will go ignored) of how genuine my concerns have been. The emotional stress I’ve endured throughout my life has caused very real illnesses, a couple of those being adult failure to thrive (it is a real condition) & (as mentioned) inanition, and if you don’t know what this word means, simply look it up as I did. Honestly, I didn’t even know this word existed until today as I was doing my job & saw the term listed on a legal death certificate as a real cause of death. Now what?

Though I’ve been branded by doctors with a suicidal ideation disorder, I am currently having difficulties accepting such as an illness. Of all the things I’ve endured, I still get hit with more, & my experiences keep me apart from the rest of humanity. Some years ago, I said to myself that I didn’t want to get a physical because there was a possibility that more shit would be discovered that’s wrong with me. Well, apparently, I didn’t need that physical because I’ve been finding out anyway, & with the list of heavy shit that is literally killing me slowly, who can really blame me for wanting to end the misery? I understand that suicide is usually committed by those who hate themselves, but that is the opposite reason why I am seeking death now. I love who I am. I cannot stand the fact that I’ve had to live this life. I hate seeing myself suffer. Since no one else cares about me as much & the way I care about myself, of course, I want out of this hell.

              “Inanition.” Merriam-Webster.com. Merriam-Webster, n.d. Web. 3 Mar. 2017.