SPOKENBEATS.

Being black and black culture is not some trial run. It is not a piece of clothing you get to try on. It's not just some "social construct" in the sense that people are allowed to move freely in and out. Being black is very real to me. It's how I identify and best believe these institutions I navigate through do the same. So, I have a huge problem when a white woman invokes her privilege to LIE, DECEIVE, and climb up the ladder in spaces where actual black women are closed out of and turn a profit.

Everyone keeps talking about all this work she did. I'm still looking for the receipts. Because all this work is usually only to promote herself as a victim and to close actual black women out as she, a white woman parading in black face, tells them they aren't black enough.

I've seen more criticism of actual black women, thin arguments of us attempting to be "white", how we should be flattered. NO. No one is using Rachel's body as a political and social battleground. If she wasn't posing as a light skinned black woman with green eyes, I wonder how many black people would attempt to cape for her then?

My blackness is real. The acts of violence and oppression against me are real. I can throw on a blonde wig and colored contacts, but I won't be able to just slide on over to whiteness nor its privilege and tools.

My black culture is real. It's painful to talk about the pain we go through, but the culture we have built and sustained is beautiful. We joke, but it's an euphoric feeling to joke about surprise butter containers and the click clack of a thousand beads and cowrie shells intertwined in our childhood braids.

Black children are only provided safety in spaces created and cultivated for them out of love. As unfortunate as it is, this is a society and culture diseased by white supremacy and oppression. It's goal will never be to protect black children. So, it's a responsibility that we have. Instead of public shaming them on Facebook, beating them on the streets, or sexualizing their bodies as cops pin them to the ground; we should give them nothing but love and protection. Give them the benefit of the doubt. Instead of silencing their oppression because "they should stay in a child's place", we need to listen to our youth.

Temperament: Feeling

Mood: Pisceans are vulnerable to both the exaggerated sense of joy and melancholy as a result of their porous absorption of the collective unconscious. The external moods, vibrations and whims of others is also absorbed by the Piscean; who may experience inorganic streams of emotions

Works From: Right brain

Compulsions: Maladaptive daydreamers. They are constantly romanticising about how things 'should be' or distorting their perception of reality to mould to their ideals

Signs of Distress: Teariness, catastrophized thinking, inability to distract or change thought patterns, flashbacks, hysteria, chest discomfort, digestive upset/nausea, irrationality, distressing inner monologue, substance use, increased need for assurance

Signs of Rage: Yelling in loud voices and using some hurtful verbal quips, tendency to escape from their own bodies, anxiety, irrationality, dramatization, self isolation, overwhelming uncomfortable emotions, crying, loss of emotional control

Signs of Nerves: Teariness, anxiety, isolation, when they feel sadness they tend to feel 'all at once', nerves, obsessive/ruminating thinking, remembering everything bad that ever happened to them, crying over insignificant events

Signs of Happiness: More stable sense of self, reduced anxiety and nerves, directing positive escapism (reading, meditation yoga), empathetic, tolerant, guilt free, creative, affectionate, positive imaginations, favorable inner monologue, not oversleeping

Fear: That people only pretend to like them. Most Pisces can't figure out why they have friends or why they are liked. They are constantly comparing themselves

Two years later, I’m older. Unfortunately, more aware. I see wrong in everything..including myself. I do nothing but constantly judge and criticize my every thought and movement. I’m not sure of myself or my choices. The worst about it all is feeling absolutely alone in this. 

I’ve realized that in my short time, I’ve never allowed myself vulnerability. Now that I have, it’s completely overwhelming and I’ve lost my bearings. After spending so much time accepting this belief that I’m not deserving of support or love, I lack the ability to even ask. 

I’ve lived my life so invested in being there for others, I’ve lost how to invest in myself. I try every moment. Convincing myself that I am deserving of love. That I shouldn’t have to carry the burdens of others to receive it; I deserve it because I am here and asking of it. 

When I was a child, my mother never try to stomp out my awareness or questioning. At times, I'm sure she was annoyed. Who wouldn't be with a smart ass ten-year old challenging everything? Despite that, my mom allowed my awareness to blossom and it has shaped me as a black woman completely aware of her power and agency. 

So, I'm back (at least for now.) I want to write again, to be snarky, to contribute to TWF again.