(ThyBlackMan.com) A lot of people told a lot of people that a lot of people wanted to see me dead. Rumor has it that it was because of something that I’ve written; yeah, you know, something that they read. My paranoia is afraid of being scared and I’m extremely fearful. Therefore, I phoned a few people who then phoned a few people who promised to get to the bottom of my seemingly unwarranted bottomless issues.
It was said that I called a spade a spade. And, it was also said that my words have the power that can really rub somebody, or some people, the wrong way. But, it’s my sincere intentions to teach them; prayerfully, I’ll reach them; that is, before they’re dead and gone and/or led astray. If not, another writer’s writer will spell out whether I was right or wrong! However, until that time come to pass, I will continue to eclipse the darkest of the darkest minds.
I’m a man of my word, and that’s my word: I’m a Black man. I got pride plus I’m true. And I got an Army full of white folks who are down with me, too. We have holsters on all of our ankles. Pistols are packed from head to toe. We are camouflaged in the clothing of their enemies. I guess we all argue with our consciences. I certainly argue with mine! My hope is that we can collaborate; you know, we can be one of a kind. During this presidential cycle, or the crash course speeding toward Civil War, it seems as if Americans are choosing sides. I guess its freedom vs. slavery and/or bondage. Some folks are dead bent on rehashing that which has long since passed.
But, yet and still, we have a half-nation full of naysayers; optimism has eclipsed. Pessimism maintains and optimism appears to be out of reach. Oft-times, I feel as if I’m still in bondage. I feel chained; I feel shackled; I feel gagged; I feel enslaved. I feel as if freedom is a myth. My self-esteem has long since evaporated, disappeared, dissipated. I have a head full of steam. My body is running out of gas. Slowly, fumes move me forward. Yeah! I wanna whip some ass.
Unfortunately, I’m not part of an Army, I’m not part of an Air force, I’m not part of a Navy, nor am I part of the Marines; I’m just a Black man living in a white-mare, I mean a nightmare, hoping that this scary reality morphs into a simple, enjoyable dream. Nevertheless, fate trumps dreams; so here we are. And, if you know like I know, you’ll be lucky to hatch onto a shooting star.
But hoping is hopeless; and I do know that wondering is wonderful; so, where do we go from here. I need to wake up. Yeah. I need some air. I feel as if my walls are closing in. I feel as if the world is getting smaller…and whiter…and whiter and whiter…but wait…..I am so not finished…….
Staff Writer; Saint Solomon
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