(ThyBlackMan.com) Most of my generation wasted their entire youth working meaningless, dead end jobs for slave wages when whatever talent they got failed to pay their rent and feed them. Many become bitter and give up. They hang up whatever talent they have for a meaningless, more simpler existence always in their head, always thinking about what their life should’ve or could’ve been. Too late now. Time is no longer on your side, and neither is youth. In fact, time has passed you by like a runaway train and you are now at a crossroads between life and death. Some choose to die while otters choose to survive by any means necessary even if it means giving up the one thing that holds the most value: one’s soul.
Many black women have given up their soul to survive because the one thing many are willing to part ways with is their dignity for all those paid trips and lavish vacations they can’t afford. A woman has the one thing most men especially the incels want. A lot of black women in America cannot survive standing on their own two feet. They need men for one thing like men need women for one thing. Many black American women are not wife material because their too busy trying to live off rich men.
Most rich males see black American women as something of a sort of toy. Something to admire and mess around with in their leisure time. The rich man’s harem often comprise these beautiful mixture of girls who need money because they come from homes where they never had anything or they lacked certain opportunities. I don’t think black American women are the most desired women when it comes to marriage. Neither do I think black American women are the most desired women in the world. There is nothing black American women can do to change that status in this culture because our male counterparts aren’t in the position to help us change the status. Neither are they willing to help us change the status.
Show me a black American women without a talent as an entrepreneur or entertainer or professional athlete or singer-songwriter or musician or is without a career as a doctor or lawyer or pastor, and is still able to afford lavish trips and every time you look around, she’s out of the country enjoying life, you will quickly realize that she’s probably a side piece. You will also find that there are older men who have money that will take care of a younger woman even if she never has sex with him. It’s called being an escort.
Indeed, many black women are left with very few options and those options are often at the bottom of the barrel of worthless, gutless, ruthless, and richless male counterparts. Thus, many black American women are choosing to objectify themselves in the service of rich males. They’re often the side piece. They are the sloppy seconds after a man has had his fill. Many black American women have reevaluated themselves being always on the bottom or second best but continued to be the sloppy seconds behind other men’s wives and girlfriends.
Welcome to a new kind of slavery in a society where you got to sell pussy to afford to live. How thrilling it is to have been born a black American woman? The average black woman in America have to sell her pussy to get ahead! Otherwise, you gone be one broke bitch. You got to live off somebody to have anything. Otherwise, welcome to a life of misery and sadness because that’s what it means to be born the average black girl in North America. Welcome to my nightmare. Youth wasted. Time gone that I can never get back. My only sin was being born a black American. My voice tamed. My time stolen by these greedy corporations. Once your youth has been taken from you, that’s it. You can’t relive it.
Growing old is the one thing I look forward to because it reminds me that I’m moving closer to my death and away from this curse of being born a black American. Truly, it is a curse to be part of this identity. This skin has gotten me nowhere. My skin has made it ten times worse. Lack of support from other women (because women don’t really support other women unless they’re trying to gain some sort of power or a dominant role over the other) makes the road a lot more difficult than what it has to be. If I had a chance to go back into the womb and relive this experience, I would choose death first. I’m already dead. Eventually, my body will turn on me and become my enemy.
Staff Writer; Alberta Parish
One may find this sister over at; http://blackpoliticomedia.blogspot.com.
