There's an inexplicable joy that exists on a brown child's face and in the way they navigate their world long before they discover they're hated.
An HBCU that is not inherently revolutionary in 2016 is irrelevant.An African American Studies class that is not inherently revolutionary in 2016 is irrelevant.
Because you thought love was just gonna be there. You weren't taught that it had to be made, it had to be mixed, kneaded, recycled. Over and over, you have to keep creating it. Over and over with everyone you love. Over and over.
I don't know any homophobic people. That suggests fear.The people I know who hate gay folks are:illiterate, nescient, uneducated, uninstructed, unlearned, unschooled, untaught, backward, benighted, primitive, unenlightened, blockheaded, dense, doltish, hebetudinous, obtuse, stupid, thickheaded, thick-wittedBut not homophobic.
I have no clue if it's true and I don't much want to look, but I bet a war happens inside the cocoon.
Your dreams are so far outside of your comfort zone, you've convinced yourself you don't dream at all.
You can't fight and claim you want to be free from the oppressor while still holding tight to things the oppressor gave you.
When you look back at that relationship you didn't think you could live without and realize had you stayed in it, you'd be some comfortable loser, sitting on the couch with another comfortable loser, instead of being the dope motherfucker you are today.
The power structure understands that Black folks have been hungry for so long, fixing us a plate now that's the same size as theirs would do nothing for our hunger. After all, they're pretty full and fat.They know we now require a much bigger plate than theirs to quiet the stomach rumblings.They see us and know what it looks like to be less powerful. They are fighting to never FEEL it.
I don't believe in sin. My relationships that failed have failed because I somehow attract devout christians. I don't believe in virtue either. I think people just do shit and it's life.
I'm homeless. I've taken to the belief that home is not where we lay our heads comfortably some nights, or where we entertain visiting friends. It's not where love is unconditional. When I look up and realize I haven't run away in a long time, I'll know I'm home.
If you weren't built for this life, you'd be dead by now. i think the problem is people don't share enough of their pain with the world, so they never know who else is in pain, too, and what others are going through. we're never really alone in anything.
Seemingly suicidal, it's not. I never wanted to live. I wanted to be happy. Living was always accidental.
as an artist, one of the toughest things to do is getting someone to understand why you think the way you think. And as much as i don't wanna care what they think about my thinking, it comes down to making them understand or watching them leave.
I hate being a writer. i tend to stick my emotions in things that cannot reciprocate. I've become a whore for my craft.