People See What They Want to See

One of the truest things in life is that people will see only what they want to see.  That point was blatantly proven last night when I was accused of demeaning my family in a Facebook post because I used the phrase "Republican rhetoric soundbites" to describe one of the diverse posts in my feed.  I was first accused of being unbalanced since I didn't mention any liberal posts, which I honestly didn't have.  Then I was accused of telling people to stay silent and name calling. ~sigh~

At that point I realized there was no reasoning with Mr. Blind whiteboy republican.

However, the lesson was once again driven home, and I once again made the connection to what my M and my Black male friends must face every day.  People will see only what the want to see and not necessarily the truth.  Too many will see the warm, intelligent, witty man I love as a threat and an enemy.

With the recent trials in Florida, those men that took the lives of unarmed Black teenagers saw what their hate and racism wanted them to see—dangerous Black thugs.  There's no logic to prove that illogical belief, simply false stereotypes and fear.  And the little lesson I learned last night reinforced what M has told me time and time again, that there is no changing the minds of those consumed with hate, ignorance, and fear.  They don't want to see the truth.  Therefore they will never find the truth.  Unfortunately, until our country's justice system truly starts to punish these men for their false beliefs, there is nothing on Earth that is going to stem the rising tide of the innocent blood of Black boys and Men that is staining our ground.

Understanding truth is always one of my primary goals no matter what the subject and something I firmly believe can only make us strong.  But in this case, I find it cold comfort and simply search my mind for a way to protect the Man I love from being the next victim of racial slaughter.
~K.

A New Beginning

Many, many years ago, I use to write/blog. I tackled whatever was on my mind that day, that hour, that moment.  I processed my pain, I dreamed little dreams, I ranted and raved, and I laughed at the funny amusing shit in my head.

Then I stopped.

Too many people were stalking my posts to twist my words into ways to punish and condemn me.  I broke my life into pieces and stuffed them in different shoeboxes, even hiding some away, in order to protect myself and others from drama, chaos, and idiots.

Now it's years later, and while I have more stalkers than ever before, I no longer give a fuck, and those I have around me are strong and fierce as hell.

I can only be me.  ~shrug~
~K.