32B's Blog

…where I write my words

Hate

It’s Tuesday evening and I’m sitting in a semi-junky apartment with half of my things in boxes neatly stack high against the far wall and everything else kinda spread around all over the place in a total mess.  I’m making progress…

This post isn’t about packing or the joys of throwing away stuff you’ve had stored in a closet for far too long or wondering why everyone loves Hefty when they make the thinnest crappest garbage bags ever.  This post is about my Facebook status: “…of all my sisters, I swear this one is a spawn of Satan. This chick has 666 written somewhere on her body”.  I typed it in that little box and sat back to look at it wondering if I should submit it or not.  I sat there for about 5 minutes thinking, reading it again, thinking, and reading it again.  Do I really feel that way?  Yes.  Was it a sudden status update not thought out carefully?  No.  I wish I could say I typed it in anger.  Well, I did but I can’t blame it on anger.  I actually feel that way.  I know it’s coming….people saying how wrong it is to put that up.  If I live life completely quiet and never write or say a single word, these fools might actually think my life and everyone in it are fantastic.  My words get attacked first.  I wondered if I’d eat my words later.  That is why I sat there and made sure this is exactly how I feel and I won’t regret it later.  I wish I ever regretted anything ever written about this one.  Maybe one day.

Afterwards, I called another sister to explain who I was referring to because she’s on FB often.  Then I cried.  I actually talked to God and I said, “let me just vent ok….”.  I aired everything.  My frustrations.  My irritation.  Every thing juvenile and emotional and immature I just vented.  Then I cried again because I wasn’t going to ask Him to fix her.  It is me.  It is always you.  Not the person who pissed you off, who hurt you, who betrayed you, who got under your skin, who makes you question not whether you love them but why you hate them so.  Take this hate out of my heart.  Please.  It was never her.  I spent most of my younger adolescent years trying to figure out why I hated her, why I wanted God to snatch her from this earth, and why I made every effort to not include her in any part of my life.  Then the times come when she appears or resurfaces and I realize I want her here, near, and in my life just to later regret it.  You gotta love your parents.  The Bible says so.  Is there a scripture about siblings?  I can’t remember a time I ever loved her.  Liked her?  Maybe.

Toxic people.  Everyone has them and everyone gets rid of them.  Eventually.  I think about other people during this time.  People who are fighting for custody of their kids because they haven’t been bad parents but because it makes it easier for the new husband to play daddy and leave the biological daddy outta the picture.  People without jobs living on craps trying to stay above water knowing they have little time before those little checks become no checks at all.  People who wake up day after day going to jobs they hate, are not respected at, and are often treated like servants than employees but if they don’t go they lose their jobs and that can’t happen to the family’s breadwinner.  People who depend on food pantries to eat and feed their families.  People who didn’t get word that the Great Recession ended because their recession has been ongoing from the time they can remember.  People who find themselves pregnant, without a support system, no job, barely a stable living situation, and everything else highly unstable that they are supposed to depend on.  My situation is not nearly as bad and although I should control my tongue, no one will ever cross paths with me and not know how I truly feel about them or our relationship.  Honesty is never the best policy and people care more about your words than the feelings behind them.  It’s ok to hate someone but don’t say or write that you hate them.  Oh, ok….now I get it!  Thanks 🙂

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May 24, 2011 Posted by | Life | , | 1 Comment

My Hatred

I thought I knew who I was
until I looked my hatred in the face
She refers to you as Allah
while I simply call you God
I only know what her religion teaches
which differs greatly from my own
I accepted our differences humbly
but must acknowledge what seethed within
Her head-dress elicits my hatred
I desire to spit in her face
Water-boarding and inhumane torture
She deserves it all and much more than that
Inside I surprise even myself
but then I read/hear/see the bombs explode
I convince myself that my God shall win
while she is convinced that Allah has won
Jesus does not teach what I feel
nor will He ever condone my inner struggle
Tears well in my eyes as I admit this
knowing that God already knows the same
Hate never wins
Only Love prevails
But the definition of both words
differ as much as our beliefs
So, who is right and who is wrong?
How many more deaths and bombs?
Involved in a war without an end
shall mark the end of all wars
My God, in Jesus’ name, forgive me
for the death I wish upon her and her kind
It is so easy to hate and difficult to love them
impossible to try when there’s still blood on their hands
I thought I knew who I was
until I looked my hatred in the face
She refers to you as Allah
while I simply call you God

May 31, 2010 Posted by | My Writings | , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Cold Hearted

coldheartI have the luxury of working from home Tuesday and Thursday of every week.  Depending on how much work I actually have to do, I watch a little TV every now and then starting from Oprah to The View then to Tyra and Ellen.  There is some time between Tyra and Ellen so I either watch MSNBC to catch up on the latest news or let my three year old watch his kiddy shows about counting, letters, reading, and finding something in the magical world of something.  Well, I was watching Tyra one day about Gay Is The New Black…or something along the lines of that.  Apparently, some writer or editor had dubbed the current Gay/Lesbian debate as the New Black since it is reminiscent (or should be) of Blacks trying to gain civil rights in America.  The person who coined this phrase said that Blacks were denied equal protection under the law and the same rights as other citizens simply because of their skin color.  So, this is supposed to be a parallel to how Gays and Lesbians are fighting for there freedom and rights now. 

What do I think?  I am glad you asked!  I don’t think anything.  I have my own faith and beliefs and I keep them to myself.  My problem is that I don’t force my religion or personal views on others unless they ask me and, even then, I do not air it if I know it will put someone else down.  For example, if someone was to say “32B, how do you feel about her marrying this chick?” after this person has already condemned, judged, and is about 2 seconds from lynching this person….I will say “she is free to do what she pleases” instead of adding fuel to an already blue flame.  My comment neither helps nor extinguishes because it didn’t have the power to overturn what the popular vote already was but I didn’t get on the bandwagon either.  But, something Tyra said touched my soul because I was sitting here thinking the exact same thing when she spoke up.  Tyra said (and I paraphrase), “the thing I see missing today is not different people with their own different opinions and viewpoints.  What I see missing is the capacity for human sympathy and compassion.”  On her stage she had a panel who were against same sex rights and a panel who were in support of it.  On both sides there was a Christian.  One (a lawyer)felt that the rights of all people must be protected and sustained under the law of this country.  The other felt that they do not compare to the Black civil rights movement because Blacks can’t choose to not be black but gays/lesbians can choose their sexual orientation.  Imagine the uproar from the audience!

Of course, the lawyer appeared to have taken her own personal views out of the arena and did what she must do….protect the rights of citizens under the constitution as best she could stretch it to cover them.  The other was using ignorance to make a statement that has more holes than the granny panties at the bottom of my drawer!  We can’t choose to be Black?  Since when?  Not all of us can choose but some, a curse turned blessing if you will, were given that choice.  They were the high yellow negros.  The ones whose family tree branches were so close to the massa’s branch that they resembled his kin folks more than their African kin folks.  Knowing the hardships that awaited them if they lived as they were with their darker family, the lynchings, the beatings, the poor conditions, the meager future, and not knowing how much worse it will get before it got better…..they choose to pass.  For white.  Do you think for one second back then that every Black person light enough would not have passed just to survive?  Choose a different life for themselves?  Not all could choose but some could and they did….that was an argument I would have made if I was on Tyra’s show sitting across from that lady.  If given the chance….we could choose.

What same sex person knowing what awaits them would decide to live out their sexual desires in the open when they could hide it if they could?  My own sexual urges are a beast and I’m a heterosexual female with every right to get some if I want some without any laws preventing me from it.  I can’t think to ask someone else to do what I myself struggle with.  Struggle to control.  Not because I want them to believe in Jesus.  Follow God.  If religion was the cure-all I swear I wouldn’t be in sex-deprivation at all.  One guy who made it known that he was gay, cried on Tyra’s show and the anti-same sex panel showed no emotion but I was ballin at home forgetting about work.  He was crying because his father had beaten him from the time he announced his sexual orientation….trying to beat him straight….beat the devil out of him.  I don’t care what you believe, in whom you believe, or how you live your life…..somewhere along the way we lost our compassion for other people.  When someone hurts you should hurt too.  When someone cries you should cry too.  When someone is abused you should get angry, sad, distraught, burdened at the fact that they had to go through that.  Feel.  Feel something! 

My God cares.  I believe He does.  Jesus didn’t walk by all those people who weren’t Jews and said “you outta luck bro man”.  He helped anyone who came to Him.  He didn’t sit there with stone faces and cold hearts holding up the biggest Bible the stores sell and tell them to stop being what they were.  We get so wrapped up in making our point….arguing for our God….debating every single facet of history….outlining where we stand and where we don’t.  What ever happened to love.  It all goes back to love.  I am not gay but that does not mean I shouldn’t cry when I saw that young man crying.  He was hurting and if he wanted to stop being gay I think he would.  Who would willfully inflict that pain on themselves?  Who?  I know only one person but I am done sounding all preachy.  I just learned what the hell the Book Exodus was talking about….had no clue.  Someone was leaving and that was all I ever knew.  I didn’t know who the hell Solomon was.  Really?!  Wow….Sunday school comes in handy for real.  The only thing I know is how it feels to be discriminated against, judged unfairly, hated without reason, labeled, and legally ostracized.  That is enough to make their fight hit home for me.  Unthaw those hearts so they begin to feel again and then maybe….just maybe…others will see the God you claim to serve.

May 12, 2009 Posted by | Love, Spiritual | , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment