When I was in elementary school, I befriended a little boy named Steven after being compelled to defend him when he was being teased in the auditorium during an assembly. Steven was sitting in front of me, and the kids sitting next to me were taunting him about the scar on his face. Steven began to cry, and it infuriated me! I didn’t want to fight the other kids, I just remember being extremely disgusted and loathsome. At the time, I didn’t understand why someone would want to intentionally humiliate another person without being provoked. After I saw Steven crying, I told the other kids to shut up and I started roasting them. I then got up, sat next to Steven, and told him not to worry about the antagonizing kids. Now, I was no stranger to being teased myself. Kids teased me every day about being short, pudgy, having a big nose, and having a lazy eye. But, I was a cute kid. I don’t ever remember being sad about being teased, just annoyed and frustrated. I ended up walking with Steven after school that day, his house was on the route I took walking home. I asked him how he got the scar, and he told me his mom got mad at him one day, so she plugged in the iron and pressed it up against his face. The scar was a burn, and after he explained it to me, I recognized part of the scar was from the steam holes of an iron. Steven and I became friends after that day. Later that year, Steven showed me a gun he had in his pocket that his brother gave him to protect himself. This all has stuck with me over the years, because it was a pivotal and defining moment in my life. I learned a lot from the entire situation. I learned that people are cruel because they’re weak, I learned that it’s satisfying to stand up for other people, and I learned that family means nothing!
My mother and father weren’t consistently present in my life when I was growing up. I spent the major part of my adolescence living with my grandmother and aunt. My mom would go back and forth between having her own place, and moving back in with my grandmother. She wasn’t a bad mom, just a product of a broken home and lax parenting. I was my mom’s first child, and she had me when she was 16 years old. My mother was my grandmother’s first child, and she had my mom when she was 16 years old. I have two maternal sisters. My mom and my aunt would fight all the time. My aunt has clear and prevailing mental health issues, but she’s never been diagnosed. She would unplug the phone when my mom called to talk to us after months of not seeing or speaking with us. She would pick fights with us, often being verbally abusive. I remember hearing my 30-something year old aunt calling my preteen sister a “fat bitch” on multiple occasions for no apparent reason, but she’s done and said much worse. My aunt is a pathological liar, a manic depressive, and just a pathetic person. So, she’d never admit to doing any wrong, she likes to play the role of a victim. My grandmother would witness the discrepancies me and my sisters would have with my aunt, and she enabled her behavior by failing to rebuke her antics and neglecting to safeguard us as children. I’ve always been an open book, and I’m sharing these stories to make a salient point. Many of us are guilty of disregarding despicable deeds and tolerating atrocious people, because we are proselytized into believing that family members should always be given the benefit of the doubt. Personally, I’ve never believed in trying to perceive people or circumstances as anything other than what they factually are.
As it stands, drug overdose and suicide deaths have skyrocketed to epidemic levels. It suffices to say people abuse drugs and commit suicide to escape from what are perceptibly their worst fears. If you think about it, fear drives our most impassioned reactions. For instance, you don’t realize how much you love someone until you imagine how terrible life would be without them. You fear losing that person, and that fear motivates you to love them unrelentingly. Additionally, it’s fear that gives you the courage to fight in a life or death situation. But, that same fear can cause you to lose hope and surrender your spirit to live. Support systems are important to many people, because having caring and encouraging people in your corner makes brutal bouts with life a lot easier. Your family is supposed to be your biggest support system, but that’s not always the case. We’ve all heard stories about parents who’ve abused, violated, and murdered their own children. We’ve all seen reality television shows where families don’t do anything but argue and fight. And, many of us are members of dysfunctional families. So, how can anyone justify surmising the notion that all families should be cherished, when we all know all families aren’t devoted? Only stupid motherfuckers want to believe there’s good in everyone. The question I’d pose to those people is – what fucking parallel universe do you live in? I recently read a story about a Mississippi grandmother named Carolyn Jones who stabbed her 20-month-old granddaughter multiple times, then baked her in the oven. The world is rampant with wicked motherfuckers, and they’re all related to somebody!
One of my favorite rappers, Andre 3000, has a line where he says “Either wish me well, go to hell, or go to Yale!”. He also uttered a more notable lyric, where he states “Alien can blend right on in with your kin. Look again, ‘cause I swear I spot one every now and then.”. Both lyrics are just expressive ways to convey the act of repelling people who are unsupportive and disloyal. There’s just no deductive reason to show love, deference, or homage to people who don’t or can’t reciprocate those sentiments! I started blogging because I believe I’m good at putting things in perspective. I also want to help as many people as I can. If only one person reads this, and it positively changes their outlook on life, I’m totally fine with that. The world has a lot of problems, and I feel like attempting to help people solve those problems with my writing is proactive. I have an axiom, and it’s “people are weak and stupid”. I say it a lot, and I believe it wholeheartedly. I want people to stop listening to and believing all the bullshit being perpetrated and propagandized by weak ass, stupid ass people who want to keep them broken down. People find it hard to cope with life’s trials and tribulations, because they don’t know what to believe. You must be objective! Think with your mind, and forget your feelings. If you need a coping mechanism, seek a support group or talk to someone who can actually help you. My mental strength stems from a logical belief that nobody can have my back like I can. The fear that drives me to stay strong, is the fear of being as weak and stupid as my relatives. I’m an introvert, I’m an asshole, I sometimes lack empathy for others, but it’s not because I’m a sociopath, it’s because I understand that people ain’t shit! I said ALL of this to say, if people don’t rock with you, FUCK ‘EM! Regardless if it’s your mama, your daddy, your grandma, your grandpa, your aunt, your uncle, your sister, your brother, your cousin, or any motherfucker in-between!