Getting Personal

1. On Reality, On Genuineness

As much as I enjoy fictitious novels and films. I tend to be a realist, hoping that the portrayal demonstrates some underlying truth.

I need a dose of reality. No euphamisms. No sugar, no cream. Straight.

Perhaps this is why I am beginning to love memoirs. Let me know that you are alive! Let me know that you struggle with your own imperfections. Let me know, if and when you have overcome.

I enjoy reading blogs, articles. But, to tell you the truth, I prefer personal blogs to cultural and political blogs. Yet, the older I become, the harder they are to find. Most in Corporate America don't want the executives reading their life. And ultimately, no one wants to be blacklisted for their beliefs. Just for a blog? It's probably not worth it.

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2. On Solitude

I am a loner. I always have been.

But, there is a difference between enjoying solitude and being utterly alone. Even people who enjoy being by themselves don't want to be alone. At the end of the day, they want to know they there is someone they can call on, someone they can confide in, someone they can trust.

I am discovering that life is impossible to endure alone.

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3. On Blackness

Today, I came to the conclusion that there isn't anything more painful for a Black person than being despised by their own kind. I reckon their are a few exceptions to the rule, a few black people who have no concern for the black community. I haven't met any in my brief 25 years. But, I assume they exist.

Now, I am wallowing in a state of discomfort.

I just don't feel Black enough, anymore. Right now, there is no community where I feel at peace. Currently, I'm not in a community of Black writers. I'm not in academia. I don't have a network of Black professionals. Right now, I can't even relate to Black women. Sometimes, my own neighborhood feels like a foreign land. Eventhough, I'm not urban - I'm not suburban neither. I love church, love it. And, lately I cant even get into church. It's akward because I see the world through the lense of a Black person, and yet I don't feel like Black people relate to me.

Sometimes, I wonder, "So, this is what it feels like to be hated?"

It's a strange phenomenon.

Sometimes affirmations feel like lies, but I affirm anyhow.

Affirmation: I am surrounded only by Love.
Affirmation: I am surrounded by people who have good intentions.
Affirmation: I am surrounded by those who want what is good. Good for themselves. Good for me as well. And good for the world.