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Everybody’s Stupid, XXVII

On January 20, 2022, I found my oldest sister’s lifeless body lying on the living room floor of her apartment. She was one year younger than me. The last time I had seen her alive was on Christmas Day 2021. People tell you how much you’re going to miss a person getting on your nerves when they’re gone, but it’s difficult to fathom when that motherfucker is in your face being zealously and overbearingly annoying. My sister had many health problems that were compounded by mental health issues, both of which she refused to constructively address. When we were younger, she would always complain that something was wrong with her, but doctors could never find any trouble with her physical health. Then, I knew her struggle was more psychological than bodily. Depression drains your energy, anxiety disturbs your heart and your nervous system, stress creates and exacerbates manifold general health complications, and all those things both together and alone can tear down your body and kill you. Eventually, after years of doctor visits and numerous physician “opinions”, my sister was diagnosed with lupus, which is a common autoimmune disease where the body’s immune system spazzes and starts attacking healthy cells. Doctors and scientists don’t know exactly what causes lupus, but I believe it’s closely related to mental health and genetics. I have always tried to use common sense in everyday life. My family, when I was dealing with those retarded motherfuckers, often joked about me being a pretend doctor and professor. But, in reality, all I’m missing is a degree. Like I always say, there’s a difference between being intelligent and being educated. Most doctors and scientists are just educated, meaning they went to school. School doesn’t change from grade school to grad school—you read shit, you remember the shit you read, you pass the course, the end. But, just because you’ve memorized some shit doesn’t mean you understand it. Additionally, there are different levels of understanding, from selective to comprehensive. So, having some information on something never means you have all the information! And, yes, I know that applies to me as well. On the other hand, intelligence involves having the ability to assimilate, meaning you can fully comprehend and effectively apply information, and you can reason and make good judgement, and you can successfully adapt with change. Nobody can teach people to have a greater mental capacity! That’s why I will always trust my discernment over a doctor’s. If their analysis is an assumed “professional” opinion, bitch, I got my own fucking opinion! Of course, when it comes to facts, I’m willing to accept a doctor’s conclusion. In the absence of facts, fuck what they’re talking about!

Experiencing a loss like this is difficult. In the past few weeks, I’ve come to realize that I will never forget or stop missing my sister. I don’t want to forget. I want to remember every time I let her down and every time I was an asshole, and I hope the guilt I feel will make me a better person. I’m known to go “ghost” on people, and I’ve thought that I was protecting my sanity by avoiding the bullshit that many of the people around me perpetuate. The truth is, being somewhat estranged from my sister likely contributed to her demise, and her demise is tapping at my sanity. My sister was often unpleasant to be around. It seemed like everything I said to her either sparked an unwarranted argument or it hurt her feelings. I didn’t mind sometimes walking on eggshells to help preserve her happiness, but I also knew that suppressing my straightforward nature wasn’t helping her. A part of me believes she never wanted to get better. I understand that sometimes people are their own worst enemy, and you can’t save people from themselves. I don’t think I’m selfish for refusing to dedicate my life to catering to my sister’s inhibitions, but I do believe I could have made more and better attempts to help her. Yet, my sister did a lot of things to push people away, then she convinced herself that people didn’t love her because we weren’t willing to tolerate her nonsense. Managing relationships with the mentally ill is testing and tiring. I believe in loving people from a distance, still I suppose that being distant can be inconsiderate and unsympathetic. I’ve always understood that people with mental health issues can’t see the world clearly. Their perception of reality is warped by involuntary intoxication of the mind, they can’t control the shit that goes on inside their heads. Even knowing that, I always suggested to my sister that being happy was as simple as altering the way she thought. Obviously, shit ain’t that simple!

To quote myself yet again, “the presence of mental illness in humans is far more common than the absence of mental illness”. This is apparent by the imperceptible and imprudent decisions people make every day. I’ll stop writing about how stupid people are when they stop being stupid! If I were “people”, I would quickly claim mental illness over sheer stupidity. Year by year, I sit back and observe black people recede from former zeniths, and deprave and corrupt those hitherto known for their reputability and virtuousness. There ain’t no ghettos no more—violent crimes, drugs, and fucked-up ways of thinking are ubiquitous! These stupid motherfuckers are always talking about doing shit “for the culture”, like the culture is something to be proud of. If you’re a dude, when was the last time you saw an attractive woman that you didn’t want to just fuck?! Like, you saw her and wanted to get to know her, get her tested for STDs, get her a birth control shot, and enjoy a quasi-committed relationship? If you’re a chick, when was the last time you met an attractive man that you wanted to make wait for the pussy, get him tested for STIs, get yourself an IUD, and relish being a main mistress? I bet y’all stupid-asses don’t even realize how much you’re influenced by the culture. The culture got y’all out here literally living your worst lives, and you’re cool with it! All your young male relatives are pursuing death and succeeding like living ain’t popular. All your young female relatives believe there’s honor and respect in having the loosest pussy possible. Having white friends don’t mean shit no more, because those motherfuckers ain’t nothing but pale-ass, pasty-ass niggas. And I could go deeper, but y’all don’t feel me in the first place! It’s the end of Black History Month, I’m 34-years-old, and the only major black historical event I’ve witnessed thus far was the election of Barack Obama. A few black bitches got elected into congress and became mayors and shit, but who cares about those mild milestones!? Why don’t niggas want to make history anymore?! Y’all niggas need help!

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