“Violence is a personal necessity for the oppressed…It is not a strategy consciously devised. It is the deep, instinctive expression of a human being denied individuality.”
“I didn’t know I was really alive in this world until I felt things hard enough to kill for ‘em…”
“The white folks like for us to be religious, then they can do what they want to with us.”
“Every decent man in America ought to swoon with joy for the opportunity to crush with his heel the woolly head of this black lizard, to keep him from scuttling on his belly farther over the earth and spitting forth his venom of death!”
• Richard Wright, Native Son
Internet justice goes one way, you can be arrested for a threatening message, but your digital screams of agony have no power. I have been lulled into a false sense of empowerment by the participatory nature of it. The fact is that I (or anybody else) no longer have any means of protest against a system of control put in place by those who wish to wield power over us. Dissent in the form of violence seems like the only effective way to make your voice heard. Terrorism, while horrible, is effective. To be feared perhaps is harmful to self, but in a pit of despair can be seen as a cry to live. I feel it is healthier to express anger out at others than direct it inward, and destroy yourself. I have often felt such deep anger in my heart the past few years that without the forgiveness and love of others coming into my life and helping me back away from the edge I might have crossed over and committed a crime. Murder, murder, murder. Kill, kill, kill. Cut your flesh and worship Satan. Sadness and despair. Oh, God! Where are you in times like these? Where does all this come from? It comes from not being heard or having any power. In my poems and posts I have explored the duality of whiteness and blackness, using the racial categories to represent a spiritual state. While working yesterday I talked to this young man who turned me onto the book Native Son by Richard Wright. I learned that I am not alone, in this book a story is told about one man who falls to the dark forces of racism in America. We have been told that the Civil Rights Movement was a nonviolent struggle, but I read last night in Learning to Die in the Anthropocene: Reflections on the End of a Civilization that the threat of violent Black insurrection was what backed up protests. I wonder sometimes if the proliferation of mass shootings and terrorism that we are seeing these days is not the result of a deep black hole opening up on earth during this time. We as a species are being driven insane by the noise and chatter. Constantly being bombarded by messages with no thought behind them, we are triggered to revert back to fight or flight responses. There is no thought, just the desire to run or to stand our ground and kill those who threaten us and those we love. In my experience with bipolar disorder I, I have found that there is no bottom in American society. The place where one ends up to get free healthcare, housing, and a job is prison. It is intentionally this way. Prison makes money for those in power. I see this now, having been on the threshold of homelessness the past half year and frayed my nerves to the core. Any chance of slowing down and healing, even if it is there, seems to pass by unnoticed. That is what happens with trauma, you live in the past. There is some part of the human brain that is like a selectivity filter, only remembering the negative and the hurtful. When someone tells you to just “Focus on the good” you want to scream and destroy. You want to scream, “Motherfucker you do not understand!” “Sit here in this abyss and you will see!” Let me back away from that place. I do not want to see people who remind me of the past. False promises and hidden expectations. I want to just sit in the abyss for now and to learn to see the darkness for what it really is. Maybe it is just an opportunity to rest? Maybe that is what it is? Slowing down enough to just be able to hear again and let the shock of the past few years settle. It is going to take a lot of time to do that. Way longer than I think. Violence runs deep, and to break the cycle of self destruction and hate it takes time. I do not have much hope for us as a species. Most people over the past few years tell me religious things when I really tell them about this abyss. They tell me that Jesus is coming back, to trust Allah. They tell me to meditate. I cannot right now, in this abyss of blackness these things make me want to scream. Madness and insanity can only be healed from total and utter silence in my experience. Let me just love the few shards of humanity that I have discovered that are willing to accept me for who I truly am and kick the rest of the people to the side. I have discovered how little people love you when you hit the ground. The religious thoughts are a front that people use to cover up the darkness. They are a distraction from the truth. So, I want to write and just let these ideas flow. Somewhere, maybe I can recover my ability to think constructively. I love you, those unmentioned friends that have stuck with me. The rest of y’all, goodbye.