I know that I am ...

a very talented and gifted writer.  I know that my day will come.  Right now I am still stuck in the ranks of evil men and women, covetous.  People trying to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps.  People  watching, waiting for their chance,  while personally swatting down ever one else's dream.

Do know GOD knows.  GOD sees but most importantly He moves.  Don't make Him move against you because you have a contrite heart.  Because you are playing deaf, pretending that He does not talk to you.

You want to be first.  You want to be looked up to, admired for your money and fame.  That is exactly what Martha wanted.  She had beauty and she had brains but she did not want to share.  Not even with me, her own daughter.  My mother hated me like I was her rival.

I do know that if Martha had pursued her dreams and talents rather than trying to destroy others on the sly she would have become quite successful.  That Cain spirit is real.  I married a horrid man!  He destroyed all my writing, all my art.  Then the dumb imp had the nerve to look at me grinning, pretending to be proud.  "Raychur!  Look I cleaned up the house!"  

Dear LORD please save me from hell.  To this very day I hate this man with every fiber of my being!  There is no way he was as ignorant as he pretended.  Throwing my entire life away while I was having his child.  He was that wicked. Closet homosexual! He was jealous!  A jealous bitch!  A miserable wretch!  A very sorry excuse for a "human being".

I can blame my mother for my falling into the hands of such a low excuse of a man.  He was also an idiot that thought too much of his color.  There is no excuse for such stupidity on this earth.  He is still a slimy predator, a snake in the grass. He knows.

My mother  thought I was too good looking.  Said my good looks, good hair, fine shape and intelligence was wasted because I was too black.

That whore never thought I was too black.  It was just a pit she dug, a hole she put me in to keep me from ever out doing her.

All her help was pity help.  "I had tuh help Gwen git a car …dumb black ass."  "I had to help Gwen move, wid hur broke ass …***** ain't nevah got no money!"

If you are against me in secret, pretending to love and care about me, never doing what you know you can do.  If you are trying to make light of my talent, advising me to give up, telling me that no one cares or will ever care about me because I'm old and black,  you better be careful.  You see what happened to Martha.

PTL!

I press on   ...