What is the worth..

African-Americans spend most of their income (which might I add, is the lowest of any race in this country) on clothing and personal care products. This only means one thing, we care more about our appearance than much of anything else. Second to clothes and toiletries is poultry. Can we seriously be offended when people say things like "black people loooove chicken"? It's true.

It's also fact that we have an embarrassing order of priorities, and yet, we're overly sensitive when McDonald's runs Television ads of an African-American male singing R&B tunes to his beloved Chicken McNuggets. My race, this race has fallen short of every dream, hope and prayer our ancestors had for us. W.E.B DuBois had a principle that the top 10% of this race would help to uplift the rest of us - because after all, we are like crabs in a barrel - sadly his principle is now insubstantial. Only 4.8% of the African-American population hold advanced degrees in the U.S.

There's a problem here. What will it take for you to straighten your act and treat yourself with respect and have some dignity as a black woman or man? What will it take for you to spend a few more hours reading to a child rather than playing a video game or smoking a blunt? What will it take for you to wake up and go to your classes on African-American studies? What is the worth of the legacy your race? Kings and Queens, we've allowed ourselves to become jesters in this society, we've become the leading negative statistics. We, because WE as a cohesive force of strong people have fallen to the wayside and obviously, we're content.

You're only as strong as your weakest link. Help a young brother or sister out, let's stop bringing them down and treating them as if they aren't our own.

"hope for the worst.."

Reliance..it is one feature that we as humans were cursed with. Yes, you read that correctly, cursed.

The dependence on any human-being, other than yourself, makes you - shall I say, gullible. We've fostered the understanding that it is ok to rely on others. Foolishness. We would all be best if we stood on our own two feet never expecting much more than eating, shitting and breathing of another human-being.

Sounds hard, me saying it in this way and it's understandable that as children we unconsciously rely on our parents to feed us, bathe us, soothe us and care for us but at some point in growing up and growing wise you must learn that not even yourself is a stable creature.

I'm almost convinced the depending on or relying on another person is a bigger let down than your favorite team losing the SuperBowl.

I'm afraid I do not know what's going on with Blogger anymore, I may have to disable this mickey-flickey and stick with Tumblr. Hmm..

Anyway, quick release of thoughts for 2010;

I've found myself breaking all the rules I set out for myself and since I've disobeyed myself I have no control over my emotions. I feel like I'm 10 all over again, back when I was in love with Carl and too shy to act normal, I acted completely awkward. Never made eye-contact, barely laughed at his jokes - even if they were hilarious, I acted so weird towards the poor boy.

Sad to say I'm doing the same thing 11 years later. Ugh. I'm stupid.

Addiction

Love can overcome many things, addiction is not one.

Everyone has a favorite aunt or uncle, they’re funny and hip, wise and understanding. My favorite aunt happens to addicted to drugs. It’s the only thing that will keep her from her family.

I remember one Christmas after she had been missing for years, she gave me a huge tub of popcorn. Some was caramelized, others were buttered and the rest were covered in cheddar. It wasn’t a toy, it wasn’t money but it was from my aunt. They call us twins.

I was a young child, probably 6 or 7 years old. The next time I saw my aunt, I was in the 7th grade at my great grand-father’s funeral. She stayed for a few months and left. My mom always told me she always came back in enough time to sober up before someone in our family died. The next time she came back was August 2008. She stayed sober for quite a while, up until October 2009, she was on the right path and I knew she was here to stay. My great-aunt died a few weeks after her return in 2008 (my mom was right) and then we dealt with the loss of my grand-father which hurt her. My grand-father wanted nothing more but to see me graduate from Howard University and for my aunt to remain sober. She was doing so well.

Sunday afternoon my mother told me she had been missing and that she had returned to her old habits..

If nothing hurts more than losing your grand-father it’s losing your aunt to drugs. I’m angry and hurt. I called her with every intention of shouting and cursing her horrible habits, no answer.

I feed them with my pen.

I write.

Because I am a writer.

They read because they're starved.

My lines are food for thought,

I got them eating.

Social Isolation, part 2.

There comes a point in every sensible person's life, where you just can't take "the scene" anymore. I'm unfastening my strap and walking away, into the shadows of the edges of campus. It's enough to drive someone insane and I refuse to let this production eat away at my sanity.

No more drama. No more part-time friends. No more trying to fit in when in actuality, I don't like people.

Real Men and the Self-Professed.

How many times have you stumbled across a male that claims to be "the realest (insert "n" word) you'll ever meet"?

Yeah, I'm pretty sure we all have. He's the one with "death before dishonor" or something like it inscripted around his chest, arm or back. A real man doesn't have to say he's real, a real man also doesn't have to stamp it on his body because it emanates from his actions.

Like it or not, you don't know too many real men. Your dad may not even carry that title. As a young girl I was born thanks to two real men. Kado Wilks, Sr. (my grandfather) and Isaac Harris (my great-grandfather) - may their souls rest in eternal peace. My grandfather could not stand gossip, but if he heard it he'd tell you - to your face - what he heard and what he thought of it. If your clothes were wrinkled or you had a booger lining your nostrils, he'd tell you. My great-grandfather was the opposite. In all his years he never spoke negatively about another human-being. If Pop thought you were a liar, he simple tuned you out. If Pop thought you were trouble, he never invited you back into his home; and that was all there was to him. Real mean respect women, provide for their families and stay loyal to their friends. Period.

Respecting women is one thing, respecting black women is an entirely different subject. Black women, on a minimal scale; birthed the nation. On a grandiose scale; they birthed nature. If you cannot respect a black woman (who respects herself, because we all know some don't) then you cannot respect yourself, or any other being for that matter. You are not a loyal man if you find yourself engaging in lust with your friend's partner. A real man doesn't just look out for himself, he should and will get himself in the door and then proceed to hold it open for the next person.

A lot of the deceivers carry female tendencies. This being envy, jealously, tittle-tattle and the inability to confront someone with issues that plague them.

I've absolutely had enough of you impostors, you've gone the extra mile to prove you're a real man but, in fact, your extra running about has exhibited how basic you really are.

It is okay young man, all men will not and cannot be real. That's what makes life so interesting.