The Reverent

I was taught gossip is wrong, so instead of talking about others, I talk about Myself, and we discuss Me. I’ve been referring to myself in the since my youth, it’s lighthearted and doesn’t insult anyone. For a society that’s always shouting “Who are you to judge?” I get judged all the time.

It’s confusing. First they say “Be yourself, don’t let anyone define you!” But then they tell you that you’re this & you’re that, and you’re made to feel abject. Some people tell me not to worry about being scolded, that it’s not me but rather the person scolding.

I already felt emasculated after that bully of a relative came over with her son and pushed me around for using an expletive in a phone conversation with a different person. Yeah, that’s how Ultra-Sensitive Confrontational & Racist Black Women tend to act. They think they can be as obnoxious, noses, and abrasive as they want, and the world has to acquiesce to them because – Black Queen. Get over yourself.

It bothered me to be pushed around by an older female and her partially-autistic son whom I helped raise since they moved in the area twenty years ago. This was back in October, and even though I wasn’t hearing much from my adored at the time (now I know why) I was able to get through this because the very site of her on a video, or a picture posted online was elating to me. I tweeted that lyric to her and the other two once: “As soon as you came in, all the beast went away.” Now I’ve learned that she probably thought that was creepy and/or pathetic.​

I try to go on about my days, pretending to be okay but the truth is that peace I had while thinking she was okay with me, that all three are okay with me: I can’t feel it anymore. Every day, I well up in tears. What’s worse than being hated by those you adore? Being meaningless to them.​​​ ​​

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But there is hope, The Creator is hope. And he will show my adored that all of my intentions were positive, and all of my actions were not malicious. The world, my family, and some random people may hate me, or they may see me as meaningless. But those three, so long as those three are okay with me, I am blessed.
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Watashi No Tenshi

Today I say a hashtag trending on a popular social media site, which lead me to write this. The hashtag was entitled “World Suicide Prevention Day” and I thought my story (shortened for ingest-ability) even at the risk of sounding “obsessive and scary” to some.

I have attempted suicide more than once, oddly enough it doesn’t quite work like a film dramatization would have you believe. With a striped-wrist, I am still here praise “God” (The Infinite Spirit) and I don’t feel like I’m repulsive to everyone, anymore. But during a very dark time I felt as such because I was treated as such. I was betrayed by a friend of twelve years during a time where I felt like giving up.

To shorten this long story, I’ll just skip to the part where she told her colleague that she was “Afraid for her life” which makes perfect sense because who wouldn’t be afraid of someone  while pretending to be friends for twelve years, right? A shy fat guy who’s sweet and respectful, always telling you to “Have a good rest of the day!” when he’s leaving, and always speaking well of you when your coworkers are saying you don’t know what you’re doing or how you got your job. Yeah that sounds like a real horrifying person there. It’s a wonder how he didn’t rape your soul with his brutish meekness.

Forgive my sarcasm, but that hurt me greatly. So, suicide attempt, then suicide watch, then lots of crying, then no intervention what’s so ever because black folks don’t believe “in’nat mess” But it is said that every loss is room for a new gain (or maybe I just said it) that same season I lost my friendship, I met three women (virtually) who would turn out to each have something about them that was in-common with me.

Couple that with each of them being kind to me and allowing me to speak to them, treating me like a human being with dignity, and not-being repulsed by my generosity and presuming some kind of ulterior-motive  I felt like these people actually cared. This is when I realized something: Suicide, as much as it seems like an act of relief, is actually a hindrance to achieving your desired goal.

For instance, my goal was to find people my age who liked me and were ginuenly interested in me. Failing to find that was the problem, along with feeling like I eas not-liked and uninteresting. Taking my own life would be an extreme emotional response, an impulsive response at that. It would not help me acheive that goal. This is the truth that I realized, along with the harsh fact that some people are apathetic and they don’t like you, and are not interested in you. This is difficult to accept for a spirit like me, because there are certain people that I gravitate to but the feeling isn’t always mutual.

 

So to sum this up, suicide will not help you to acheive your desired goal. It will only prevent you from ever getting what you ultimately want. And this is coming from a person who was terminally ill, which suicide seemed merciful.

 

 

Greatful, Blessed, and Weak.

Been in the Hospital with Stroke, Seizures, near Heart Failure, and nobody on Social Media gave a crap except for an amazing wonderful beautiful and kind woman on Twitter (two, in fact) but the people who I expected to care just didn’t notice I guess. Oh well, I still love them anyway.
After nearly Bleeding to death & rushed to the ER like a movie scene, I have yet another reason to Praise The Creator for his mercy and for Medical Professionals.

Standing Ovation

They sat us down in a straight jacket, with the Clockwork Orange clamps and electrodes then they forced us to watch gratuitous sex and explicit violence, and we screamed. 

We screamed so long that it eventually turned into a cackle. 
So we take our last breath, and in the presence of The Creator we stand and give him an ovation for the greatest & longest running joke, of life.