It seems like men are dying to a violent atmosphere. Guys, please take care of yourselves and don’t wait for the world or women do that. I say this as a woman. Have empathy for yourselves. Only you can remove yourselves from situations that push you over the edge and strangle the life out of you. Just. I don’t know. Have compassion and be above anything that tries to control your identity by equating your worth with your work. Find something inviolable, unassailable and meaningful that ties you to life. This world is becoming turbulent and a lot is intersecting and coming together in ways humans have never seen. Find your balance in your heart because when you’re perched at your center no one can push you over.
You ask me with slight contempt in your voice, why are you so obese.
– Because I’m bloated with all the screams I had to muffle, all the shooting stars I had to repress, all the bitterness I had to swallow, all the bullets I had to bite, all the sensitivities I had to hide, all the times I had to hold my breath to keep from flinching in the face of the predators so as not to show them any fear. My body held on to everything I tried to discard and piled them up to show me everything I’ve tried to disregard. I can run but I can’t hide anymore.
Fat protected me better than my parents ever could.
Full disrespect my nigga, but the only reason why you reacting is because you’re projecting your inferiority complex on them. Be real, YOU saw Lamar as a crackhead. YOU reserved no empathy for him. And now you’re tryna dispel your cognitive dissonance through making it about some conspiracy of making black people not empathize.
Evading accountability is returning to the slave master. It’s a river that is contained by an ocean. Why don’t you instead take a look at how mental health is taken? I’ve seen an overwhelming number of people saying addiction is a choice and addicts deserve to no sympathy for the bad choices they made. So how are people then in the same breath questioning why Lamar was labeled a crackhead when there’s absolutely no space for any other narrative in the black community???
Why is empathy seen as somehow a limited commodity? Why is harshness and punishment seen as the only ways to curb bad behaviour? This is the same mentality that has people justify popping kids to straighten them out and if they are allowed to “act out” then that spells defiance in their teenage years.
I can’t stand when people use a broken and messed up world as reason to not transcend it and evolve past it. It’s all the more reason why we need to change so that we don’t perpetuate the world we were born into!! Tf. Everyone is well-versed in racism and corruption and elitism. And everyone who is corrupt and benefits from corruption isn’t going to change. Nor is change going to come from revamping the structure that arose from malicious intents. Ushering in new values through embodying them and consciously stopping to respond to the control mechanisms of the current system that is essentially a manifestation of the ego that abhors surrendering control, is what will create the momentum that’ll not only weaken the system from within but dissolve it organically. That’s how civilizations rise and fall. That’s the cosmic order and cycle of things. What you give attention to continues to exist. What you take back your focus and beliefs from stops being your reality, period. Reality isn’t a static one dimension. It’s fluctuating, it’s a feedback loop, it’s a mirror and not creator.
I make a lot of clamour in my mind. I always have at least 7 tabs open at once. I have 5 books bookmarked. Some books I read in a random order; open a page and read it if the chapter’s interesting. I have the exact same routine; wake up, turn on pc,go to the bathroom to freshen up, come back,take my 2 Sertraline pills, open my inbox,then youtube,then dailymail ( even though I hate it), then back to youtube to watch any new podcasts or shows,then i might log into skype.
I stick to one thing. I never understood this. I’m averse to finding new stuff online. I’m commitment phobic in that way. Picking a movie to watch is a painful and tedious process of researching,comparing,biding my time. It’s like that show bachelorette, only I’m picking and eliminating movie titles and not guys.
I’m organized, but not because I’m a neat person. I like to know where everything is as I can’t stand having to look for something. It’s so annoying when that happens; something I thought I placed in a certain place not being there when I need it. I don’t have time to look for stuff.
I munch on the same junk, even if it’s lost its appeal because better the devil you know…
I purposely constricted the perimeters of this maze I call life. I didn’t know why until now. I didn’t know why I oscillate between hyperfocus on one topic that I pour my soul into and abject apathy and ennui.
Until I sat down to write about it. This background noise chaperones me. I can’t be left alone to my own devices. I don’t dare be alone when silence falls and darkness shrouds my mind. I’ve been there many, many years ago and I got out once, won’t go back there. I’m a nomad,a fugitive. The lights never go out in my mind, the party never ends, the clamour never dies down. As I live in fear, my life goes unlived in the dungeon I fled.
I have the perfect dysfunctional relationship with my fears;
I feed them
They shelter me.