Nothing you can do

Sometimes, no matter what you do, life is hard.  These past few weeks have been almost hellish.  Nothing I do turns out right.  There have been too many things that have been totally out of my control.  What the heck?  Oh well, this too shall pass.

The weather is not even cooperating.

Believe it or not, I just almost lost this post.  I had to log out, then in, then accidentally found a tab that allowed me access to this draft.  Wow!  I'm going to bed with the eternal hope that tomorrow will be so much better.  I'd settle for just a tiny bit better.  Love You, God.

Satistifaction

What does it mean to be satisfied?  I certainly don't know.  Yet I know many people who seem to know.  They tell me that they are happy.  They tell me that they are successful.  They tell me that their love life is really good.  I, of course, wonder.  Satisfaction is transient.  It is evasive.  How is it that they capture this essence ?  For sure, how do they seemingly, with their answers, capture satisfaction or happiness forever.  They are Liars.

Quiet Time

There's a lot to be said for solitude.  It gives me the chance to think about things.  All things.  I think about the good, the bad and yes, the ugly.  This way, I allow myself to see points of view that in haste, I may have missed.    Many times, I do say that I wish I could revisit this or that decision.  Fortunately time has moved on and it isn't a darn thing that can be done about what has passed.  The now is where I come back to with a more centered, more focused outlook on my wonderful life.

What's Going On?

What the heck is going on?  My bank had an outage yesterday.  I couldn't pay my bills.  The last thing I need is to be late with the bills I have.  Is there a conspiracy against me?  I don't mean to sound crazy, but what the heck?  I have the money to pay, but the bank shuts down.  Oh well.

There is a change coming.  I can feel it.  I am determined to remain positive.  Things will work out okay.  God is still in charge.  I still have more blessings than anything else.  I am still loved by my family and friends and I still love them.  What more can I ask? 

Hope all of you are having an okay time.

Broke and Sad

What the heck is going on?  The older I get the less money I have.  Why is my social security being taxed?  Wasn't this taxed once?  Maybe I am confused.  My pension does not keep up with the cost of living.  My utilities are steady going up.  My funds are not.  Why can't someone come up with extra money for senior citizens?  I am still paying for able bodied people who have decided to make welfare a way of life.  I know, because there are several bums in my own family.  Shouldn't there be an additional income for those of us seniors who need a little help?  I am really pissed off, but more than that, I'm sad and broke.

Valentine for Nigga

I can't say Nigga' cause it makes you uncomfortable?  It makes you squirm?  Well, white man, this world is very much about discomfort.  Living life is about moving out of our comfort zones.  I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, when I use my word, Nigga.  I am not even thinking of you.  I love the word Nigga, as we Niggas apply it to ourselves.

You see, I've been trying for a while now, to figure out how the use of this word by us Niggas concerns you?  You wouldn't insult another race by, let's say, calling the Italians Dagos, or calling a person of Hispanic heritage a Spic.  Why then do you, of all people,  persist in being able to call members of the black race a Nigga?  African Americans can and do use Nigga amongst ourselves.  God knows, we have earned the right.  It is us and it is our choice.

Many of you still call us niggers whenever you are without a "nigger in sight."  Give me a break.  What sense does this make, Mr. White Man?  What business is it of yours what I say?  I really don't and can't censure what you say.   It's simple.  Just don't say Nigga in front of African Americans.

There are so many endearing and sensitive memories attached to our word, Nigga.  No, you would not understand.  You really can't understand how we, as an oppressed people, took a word meant to humble and humiliate us, and turn it into our version of love, connection,  and yes, sometimes hate, but not so much on our part, as you pretend to think.

You called us niggers from the time we set foot on this American soil.  What's your point now?  Is it to show the world that you can still control our thinking?  The world may succumb to your desires and tricks as you attempt to clean up the shit you have begun.  I won't let you take my language, hence my culture, away from me again.

You, white man, need to understand that African Americans do not want you to say Nigga to us, or on your public media.  Only African Americans can call one another Nigga.  You just need to learn to control your urges to say this word.  You need to really examine your feelings about this word.  Examine your motives for not wanting me,  the "nigger," to use my own connotation of this word in my world.  You need to control your guilt and your jealousies.  You definitely can not control me.

E. Clark
2-19-2011

Sundays

It is so good to chill out on a Sunday morning.  Sundays, for me, are days to unwind and regroup.  I love Sundays because I love me.  God is telling me to do what I want on this day, above all other days.  I am spiritual, but I am not religious.  That is, I really do not like attending church.  I tithe and I love Jesus, but I don't like attending church.  Forgive me these thoughts, but the people who usually people church are not real.  They are usually very phony to the point of pain for me.  After all, they are in church.  Church people seem to be about everything but God.  Sundays are too special to be messed up by starting these days on the wrong foot.  I attend church as much as I can stand it, which is about three or four times a year.  Like I said, I love Sundays too much for spoiling them.  I love God and I know God loves me.  He shows me continuously and that's enough for me.