I’m tired of asking the world that. I’m tired of watching people I care about make stupid decisions. I’m tired of hoping that things will get better. Most of all, I’m tired of watching my country fail. And we are failing. The work that some people have put in to stay home, stay safe, wear a mask, wipe things down, and be respectful of others has turned out completely irrelevent. We try hard to set an example for you, and yet you disregard us. For all that we’ve done, we do not exist because unfortunetly it hasn’t changed things. I was hopeful at one point, I think, but that was when people weren’t dying by the thousands. Now I’m just angry.
you rip the world apart not that it isn't already in shreds your just adding to the pile making each piece smaller and smaller you throw bleach over our art when we paint Black Lives Matter on the street you comment under our empowering Instagram posts you throw cans at my grandparents for being in a biracial relationship you shout all lives matter but refuse to admit that black lives are the ones under fire you take out guns whenever 'you people' act too white you stare at the brown skin girl's curls like she has two heads you call us libtards for seeing through your double standards and generalization you see Charlie Davis, my own flesh and blood, my mothers father, one of my best friends but you don't really see him all but his brown skin, his afro, his voice you decide to shoot his dog. you know if you had pointed the gun at him instead, the punishment would still be nothing
Everyone fawns over us when we get big. After you've struggled your way to the top, only then are you visible. After you put in the hours, cried a hundred nights, failed again and again, then someone has the audacity to say "wow, you're really special." They claim to love you, but they only love the idea of you. They think they know you, but they only know what you put on display. Love yourself first, because nobody else knows the blood, sweat, and tears you've endured. They don't even know the half of it.
I would say, "Don't waste your vote this fall," but not everyone who reads this will have the privilege of voting on November 3rd, 2020. Please, do not waste your VOICE this fall.
I have no way of knowing what kind of beliefs you've grown up with. What kind of religious practices, parental decisions, or extended family situations have impacted your morals. And to be perfectly honest (and a wee bit blunt) I really don't care at this moment in time. I don't care if your parents grew up as ultra conservatives, mega liberals or anywhere on the increasingly broad spectrum that lies in between.
I do care that you have conversations with people of all different backgrounds, political orientations, and groups that are opposed to your beliefs. I care that, if you feel internal conflict or confusion based upon the voices of influence in your life, you engage with people who can educate you.
Black Lives Matter you say write it in your bio post it on your stories Black Lives Matter you say until you want to touch my mom's hair Black Lives Matter until you compare the only black man you know to every any black person you see Black Lives Matter until you want yours to matter too Black Lives Matter until being black is an exotic and foreign thing to you Black Lives Matter until in history class, you single out the one black boy in your head Black Lives Matter until the protesters should be a little more peaceful until all cops aren't bad Black lives matter until the ghetto is filled with 'dangerous kinds of people' Black Lives Matter until you defend your racist parents Black Lives Matter until you underestimate systemic racism until you 'didn't choose to be white' Black Lives Matter until you 'don't see color' yet color is all you see
keep fighting. the problem cannot be solved without you. inorder to end injustice, we need to unite. we need to bring all of our communities together. we will be stronger if we support each other. if we all rise to the occasion TOGETHER we can rid the earth of racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, xenophobia, and discriminations of all kinds.
to each person individually, if YOU decide to change the world, do it. there will be others who are simultaneously working towards making the world a better place. you are not alone.
tldr; join hand in hand and annihalate discrimination of all kinds
i was asked by a volunteer group what pride means to me:
to me, pride is a collage--a work of art. It's a beautiful and colorful celebration and culture to be seen and experienced.
with every work of art comes a story. the story of pride is not jsut filled with joy and filled with pain and hardship and struggle. it's a long-term community coming together over time, joining hand-in-hand to show the world that they are content with who they are, and they are PROUD. with pride comes the story of the struggle and the celebration of what has come from it all. a beautiful masterpiece which commemorates those who were both lost and found. a triumph that creates a community dear to our hearts.
tldr; pride is a work of art which reminds us to love, respect, and care for who we are.
i dont know what to do anymore. im tired of being lonely and i wish i could just bash my head into the wall until i cant feel anything anymore. sometimes i curl my hands into fists until my fingernails dig into my palms, because i feel like i cant do anything i cant fix the sickness in my grandmother's body, i cant solve the puzzle of the girl i love, im not even able to cry anymore. things just feel dull, empty, blank. i dont even know what i want, i just want to stop feeling so alone and despreate and sad. maybe i should stop listening to sad music, but it makes me feel like somebody understands. sometimes i wonder if im addicted somehow, in some twisted sick way, to this feeling of emotional suffering. i lie of course, when people ask me how i am, i smile and make myself live in a mask, a porcilain vase around my head, sculpted from my fear, fear of people knowing that. . . im not ok. that im sad underneath the happy smiles and determined attidute.
hi don't know if anyone is reading this, but i am going to write anyway.
hi. I'm your friendly neighborhood person who produces too many questions, and is perpetually unsatisfied with a lack of answers. but i can imagine that there is a lesson to be learned...i just haven't learned it yet. for now, i will try to fill the empty void [reserved for the answers] within me with my own 'solutions', despite if they are/aren't correct.
tldr; idk what's going on, so i'm going to attempt to figure it out...
Some people in our world today are acting with cruelty, with hate, and I truly don't understand.
I don't understand why they hurt people for no good reason. I don't understand why they think they can do whatever they want, whenever they want, without having a good explanation.
What I really don't understand is why they are giving our world more challenges to deal with, more hard things to face on purpose.
These lives that we all live, they are our own, and some aren't even making the most of them. We can't take for granted everything the world gives us, and we can't take advantage of everything that we earn, for any reason at all.
This world we live in, it is so much more than special, and we need to keep it that way. We need to make it better.
The murder of George Floyd has brought the fight against police brutality back to our attention but hidden from our view has been a long list of wrongful deaths at the hand of law enforcement. Trayvon Martin was walking to his home with an iced tea and skittles. The police officer who shot him, George Zinneman, was found not guilty. Keith Scott was reading in a car when he was shot. The police officer was found not guilty. Atatiana Jefferson was looking out her window when she was shot by a police officer. The police officer is currently under indictment for murder. Jonathan Ferrell was asking for help after a car accident. He was shot twelve times by police, and the case ended in a mistrial. Jordan Edwards was riding in a car and was shot in the back of the head by a police officer. Officer was found guilty of murder.
getting called the n word is like getting a big slap across the face
not the slap were it just hurts for a little bit and then stops
but the slap were u have a big red hand print on your face that stings when you touch it
where it eventually will go away but you will alway remembered the pain it caused you but than the excuse is always the same ¨it was joke¨, your being dramatic¨, ¨ were homies i'm allowed to call you that¨, ¨ i had the n word pass¨, ¨ i have a black friend¨
some people like to throw the n word around as if they are throwing a ball at someone
and when the person gets hit, they tumble to the ground in pain
it is used to dehumanize a person just as if they were a nothing
when i get called the n word
it is like i have a tummy flu and i feel sick to my stomach
Is Santa real? Yes. ...And No. Is Love real? No. ...Well, Yes. Why is money so important? Our economy would be in tatters without it. Really? Yes. ... Why are you asking these things? Why aren't you answering them? You shouldn't care about this stuff yet! But I do. Kids these days! ... Why are you looking at me like that? Why should you care? It's starting to creep me out! Then don't look at me. Don't do this again tomorrow night, These aren't things that I want to answer at bedtime. Okay. Goodnight.
tired /ˈtī(ə)rd/ An adjective Meaning: in need of sleep or rest; weary. Long Meaning:
You fight for lives. You are a soldier with a mask on. A mask that has "Health Hero" stitched into its front, with purple string. You stand there fighting for a life you have never known. You are tired but you keep watching their heartbeat, the rise, and fall of their chest, and their blood pressure. You keep watching because you are tired.
I am the way you communicate. I am the thread that keeps you connected to the outside world. I am the way you write, my keys always serving your fingers. I am the way you do nearly everything you need to do. The way you do school. The way you check your email. The way you relax, by pulling up something fun. Every day you gobble up my services. Every day you give me orders. More and more and more. But it's not enough. Your fingers tap in frustration as you wait for me to wake up in the mornings. (I'll be nice, and forget to mention that you yourself pleaded for an extra 15 minutes in bed.) You think I'm slow. Low quality. Annoying. I think you're impatient. Greedy. Selfish. You don't care that I do everything you ask, take for granted the way you can count on me, the way you know that I'll always be there,
School is, well, school. School is something that will make you want to scream sometimes. Maybe. Or cry, or just wish you could go home already. School is another weight to carry, heavier than a backpack full of books and binders and notebooks (although school comes with that, too, as a bonus).
But school is school, and that means that it's fun, too, and there are friends and there are teachers and classmates and things to learn and things to do and things to laugh at and school is something that, maybe, someday, you'll miss. A lot. (Especially if you have to do it from home for 3 months because of a pandemic. But anyway.)
School is an opportunity, and maybe that sounds like it's golden and shiny, and it's not, but school is not only what school gives you, but what you make of it, too, and so, please, make something good. Don't you dare be mean, or