Things I Wish I Knew

Since I reached adulthood, specifically after 30, I’ve recognized how less I’m concerned with what others think of me. This didn’t happen because I’ve had a strong self-esteem but quite the contrary. The “fuckitall” mentality came about through being bullied, abused in many ways, alcohol & weed.

Growing up, I spent a lot of time & energy trying to be inconspicuous only for that method to backfire since I have very noticeable physical features: big eyes, fat lips, long eyelashes, tall, dark, & skinny. I had zero confidence throughout the first 20 something years of my life because, not only was I picked on just about every day, but also because I was convinced that the world hated me.

I remember coming home from school each day feeling like a pile of shit being formed into Shit Mountain because I was teased & pushed around (being the quiet, poor kid with sad eyes made me an easy target). I still remember the first pair of name brand shoes (Adidas) I got because that was the moment I got teased just a little less.

This particular morning, I woke up thinking about one of the hats I recently bought myself & had a flashback of an ex from junior high laughing at me at a high school basketball game because of a similar hat I wore at the time. Then I had a thought of the perfect response to that & other times when I was picked on for not being able to keep up with fashion trends. “Oh no! The hat that I chose because I personally like the style isn’t good enough to impress an irrelevant douche dick. What will I do? HOW CAN I GO ON LIVING KNOWING THAT SOME PERSON WHO HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH MY LIFE DOESN’T LIKE WHAT I GET FOR MYSELF?”

Yeah, I know that might have made me even more unlikeable, but people already disliked me for one reason or another. This is one of the most important facts I wish I knew as I was growing up. Maybe the suicide attempts & loathing of the human race would have at least been much less. Then again, from whom could I have learned such a valuable life lesson? 🙃


African Versus Black

This morning, I read an article about an Asian named Mr. Chang addressing the issues with black people. Though I could not find any other references other than the link shared by a Facebook page, the message is vital. (You can read it for yourselves.) I find it convenient that this was the first article I read today after the events within the last 2 months of my life. I dare not mention my problems because there would be no genuine concern. In fact, I’m more inclined to expect being ignored. Why? In America, I’m BLACK, which means that I am at the bottom of the totem pole.
For years, I’ve heard (from BLACK Americans) that Africans hate black people in the states. From my personal experiences, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Africans don’t hate black Americans, but they do hate how we act, how we carry ourselves, how we treat each other. We are quick to cry “hate” when Asians or Mexicans/Latinos choose their own over us, but we don’t choose our own over anyone else. My problem is mine to face alone. If I were Mexican or Chinese, or maybe even white, I would never feel like I’m fighting alone a losing battle because my people would always support me. If I lived in Africa, I don’t believe I would ever know what it’s like to be hated by people who look exactly like me. In this country, however, saying such words would prompt black people to call me a traitor to my own. Isn’t that backwards?
I’ve put myself in hopeless situations for the sake of taking care of others. Those hopeless situations are what I received in return with an unspoken “tough shit” to follow. Black people are often bringing up how other races fight amongst themselves, but those other races don’t fight for simple competition. Look closer & you’ll realize that their conflicts often revolve around different views of what’s best for them while we fight each other for how we look at each other. I’ve seen white people have an all-out brawl then later have drinks & laughs together. Black people call that “being fake”, but I see it as hashing out issues so they could get back to being unified which is more important to them than their pride & egos. White pride may be racist, but black pride promotes its own exclusion. African pride involves real unity. Mexican pride seems to symbolize recognition & appreciation of heritage. Notice a difference yet? Hue pride is nothing positive. Cultural pride celebrates its people.

What Makes You Better Than Me…

No, that isn’t a question but a lead-in. Quite often these days have people proclaimed that everyone should learn how to love themselves before anyone else can. In addition, it is said that it’s easier to fix a broken child than such an adult. Okay, let’s think about quantum physics. To a physicist, this analogy is stupid, but I’ve never taken quantum physics in any part of my life. To a physicist, I’m stupid & hopeless. Ironically, that’s what I was taught as a child, that I was stupid & hopeless. I grew up with those types of teachings. Self love? Is that a PG version of “masturbate”? I learned about that when I was 12. Self confidence? What is “confidence”? Now that I’m a grown ass man, it is expected of me to just know this shit, & for the same reason is it practically impossible for anyone else to teach me what this shit is. More irony you say? YOU GOT IT!! Many of the very same people will tell me to let go of baggage but call me a bitch for talking about the issues that weigh me down. So… Let go of the baggage or nah? 😕 Before anyone has the chance to tell me to just live my life without worrying about others, oh there are plenty more irony, hypocrisy & double standards on that, but I’ve already tried to “let go of THAT baggage” already as well.

Hildy’s Gratitude

It’s been about 2 weeks since I’ve been back in Georgia & I cannot tell you how many times I’ve seen Django Unchained within that time span. Sure, the obvious topic of racism is too easy to tackle referencing this movie, but having the crazy mind I do, I became aware of another topic that is still debated to this day within the black community. Maybe not in my lifetime but possibly one day, black men & women will finally come to some kind of agreement instead of fighting each other over who is really more hated than the other. (Wouldn’t the logical reasoning be that we recognize being hated, period?)

The other day, my sister & I got into an argument. What has been in my mind this entire time since that moment is this look she had on her face as I turned up the volume on my voice & aggressive tone. The look, even now, breaks my heart. I’ve never known my sister to be silenced by anyone, especially her baby brother, & that moment is still destroying me. How is this related to the topic here?

My sister, like many other single black mothers, portrays herself as independent but denies her dependence on my parents. (That wasn’t a cheap shot at my sister, just stating a fact. Hell, until I get back on my feet, I will be depending on the parents as well.) I’ve had to literally rescue my sister from situations that endangered her & her kids only to receive little to no gratitude for it. Well, it wasn’t just the mere lack of gratitude that upset me. It was the blatant disrespect, including being displayed by returning to those situations. “Chivalry didn’t die. It was murdered.”

In Django Unchained, Hildy faints when she first sees her husband after the 2 had been separated. Then as he kept going to her rescue, her body language spoke loud enough so that a verbal “thank you” could have been redundant. Meanwhile in the real world, I just read a piece of an article the other day by Huffington Post about how chivalry is sexist. Really? So, what the hell am I supposed to do at this point? I still have memories of holding the door for different females & they just give me dirty looks AFTER reading all over social media & even sometimes overhearing conversations how men don’t even hold doors for women anymore.

Women are still grouping all men into one general category, yet they refuse to acknowledge that more & more of them are too much alike to be offended by comparisons. When a man speaks up against the bullshit from women, he’s automatically a “fuckboy“. Why? That man started out as entirely chivalrous. Then women called him weak because he was nice. When He finally gave up & just decided to live his own life as he chose, women still accused him of being like every other man. In that man’s mind, he’s already been rejected when he actually put forth the effort to pursue a relationship. So why are women still attacking him? He had even gone out of his way to avoid being noticed by anyone. All he wanted was to just live his life & find his own happiness, but everywhere he’d go now was going to be full of women waiting to say that “he ain’t shit” just because he’s a man. Now, he’s not holding back anything. What he once considered too harsh to speak aloud are now his first words when addressing respective issues. No longer does he care about sparing feelings or being politically correct. When he was trying to be a good PERSON, he was still labeled as worthless. What would you expect from a person who has taken the same shit for decades?

I’m Big Mad

Rant mode: So I was trying to plan out my last week & a half here in this craptastical place known as West SHOOT ME IN THE FACE Virginia when my thoughts started drifting toward realistic conversations I have to have with a couple of individuals. From there, the irritation expanded beyond my thoughts & into the actions of the people I had to encounter from the time I left my apartment to this point of being in front of my work computer composing this rant. As much as I would prefer to tell people about themselves, the frustrating reality is that people are never accepting of when their faults are pointed out to them. It Started with the Travel Bins… The idea was to find a storage bin large enough to hold most of my belongings that would not fit inside my suitcase. What I found online actually excited me even more, that being the low cost of storage bins. I eagerly searched for the perfect sized bin for my trip, & sure enough, I found a few choices. Then, the frustration started. Bins weren’t available in stores. Home deliveries would take at least one week, which would be too late for me. Not a problem I thought to myself. I can just get up early enough on Saturday & check out store locations for what I need. So I moved on from that to go over more of my plans. Then I did a hypothetical budget of all the expenses between this coming Friday & my arrival in Georgia. I was pleased with the calculations & overall results. So I thought about possibly going out this weekend since it’s been well over a year & a half since I had gone out while here. As I thought more about it, I was close to the conclusion of just ending up hanging out with one of the two remaining people with whom I still associate up here. That’s When It Hit Me… Without going into too much detail, my concern that is often dismissed is validated quite often by the very same people who dismiss such. One person is constantly telling me that I don’t owe him anything & he “just enjoys [my] presence”, but I’m irrelevant whenever I don’t have anything to offer outside of my company. The other has said similar words, stating that he gains wisdom from me. I guarantee their attitudes will change once I have these conversations with both of them, & they WILL happen. Of course, the day wouldn’t be complete without the minor irritations (I even just got back from having breakfast & have more irritations to add). I understand that racism isn’t going to go anywhere, at least in my lifetime, but it’s still fucking annoying. I absolutely hate when white people stare at me but refuse to speak. I hate when white people will walk right in front of me just to be in front of me, not trying to hurry to get out of my way or get to their destinations in a timely manner, but to just be in my fucking way. Then they have the audacity to get upset when I react to their bullshit. I have noticed that here in this ass-backwards state, racism is so common that I’m considered out of line from both sides for not accepting the racist bullshit other black people have. Still, despite that being a cultural thing, I am no human’s subordinate. I am not less than any other person, especially an ignorant, pastykake, incestuous peckerwood. The hate weight is making me big mad today, & it’s only after 9 a.m.

Get Out, The Original

I’ve yet to see the movie Get Out, but I have heard a lot about it & seen quite a few memes referencing it. Now, I understand the meaning given all the talk, but I (as well as, at least, thousands of other Africans here in Amerikkka) am familiar with a slightly different version. In fact, I became familiar with this version before I even experienced racism. “When y’all turn 18, y’all gotta GET OUT.” In 10 days from today, I will be returning to my hometown in Georgia from West Virginia. Initially, I was excited about leaving this place a month from that moment. With 3 weeks left, I was super hyped. At 2 weeks, the excitement came only when I thought of the move. Today, I am still ready to GET OUT of this place, but the excitement has died. It isn’t because I’m having second thoughts of leaving (fuck that), but rather I’m an adult now. To elaborate, I recall the day I was accepted into Savannah State University. I had several months before departing home, but I was excited the entire time. I didn’t realize, at the time, that I was not prepared for life away from my dependence upon my mother & grandparents. I remember composing an extremely hostile letter to my parents within a couple of months of being away, expressing anger from no one taking care of me. Was I wrong? Was it really my fault that I was not ready for an independent life away from someone else providing me with basic necessities? Before you say “Uh, duh!!”, let’s think about this issue for a moment. Why was I not prepared to be out in the world alone? Was I supposed to learn such survival on my own? (Now, I’ve blogged a lot about my upbringing, so if you don’t understand why I’m asking these questions, my suggestion is to read my earlier blogs.) This declaration of “18 equals GET OUT” is prevalent in the black community, at least during my generation & back. Not only that, but in addition, we were often left to raise ourselves due to reasons that include parents not being around because they had to work crazy hours, being raised by grandparents who were too weak to rear elementary aged & teenage kids, abuse & neglect, television, & peers. In all of this, we weren’t taught about saving money, building resumes, applying for jobs, looking for homes instead of places to stay, taking care of vehicles, or overall economics. Our parents were just anxious to get their younger lives back before procreation only to then realize that they are too old to do the things they used to do. Then, ironically, they want us to call, visit, or move back in after we’ve established ourselves. Get THE FUCK out!! Many of the problems in this world can be traced back to parental teachings, or lack of such. These days, I can’t label a child as bad without wondering what the parents contributed. In such cases, that child is more than likely being neglected at home & is acting out for attention. (Ignoring an attention-seeking child is probably one of the worst behaviors I’ve seen in adults. Yes, that child just wants attention, but if you as his parents don’t give him that attention now, he will grow up looking for it all his life.) By the time that child is old enough to leave home, he isn’t an adult simply because of his age. He is still a neglected child unprepared to survive in the world. The Shyamalan-twist is that his learned behaviors will aid in making this society worse because he wouldn’t be the only neglected or abused child entering into it, & what they contribute is what has been familiar to them their entire lives. Going back to my future departure, yes, I will be excited again once I am on the road, but just to recap, the difference between when I was leaving for college & now is that, now, I am aware that there is more to come after I GET OUT of West Virginia as opposed to staying focused on the thought of just leaving. I still have to survive: I still need a source of income & a home. I will still need to take care of myself. I am aware that I cannot depend on anyone for my own well-being. When I was leaving for college, none of that crossed my mind because the message beaten in my head throughout my life was that once I became a LEGAL adult, that was the time for me to (say it with me) GET OUT.