It's alright

No, life is not always wonderful but , it is fine!  Life is awesome because love is awesome.  If you ever find real love, sincere love on this earth, you are truly blessed.  I often wonder how many people are forced to pretend like we were?

Closing in on the "Big 65" I am in awe.  First of all I'm still here!  I survived!  Oh yes LORD, if any one is "due to be dead" it is me.

I do thank GOD for so many gifts, so many good people and glory (HE) has placed in my path,  I rejoice.  My daughter is absolutely the best thing that ever happened for me.  The joy that little girl has brought me cannot be measured.  I just bask in it.

We were sitting on the beach outside of Rome (Italy).  I dug my toes into the soft white sand, trilled.  I could scarily believe it.  I took my daughter to Jamaica when she was five and now my baby,  all grown up , is spoiling me, encouraging me, picking me up, refusing to let me fail.

I thank you  LORD.


"Time changes all things." my grandfather reminded us often.  There was that huge yellow beast, screaming, hollering, cursing, cussing.  Just a foul lecherous demon wearing a dress and a head rag. Stanking slut!

"Gwen! You got any money!"  (I could not lie.  She knew I had money.  She watched me babysit. She knew I wrote and sold Term Papers.   Yes,  she demanded to know how much I was being paid.  I told her.  I was still a child.  I was her slave.  I was just as much her slave as Kunta Kinte.

"Let me borrow it!  I'll pay you back."  (Martha delivered her request kindly, offered you an opportunity to show her how much you loved and trusted her by loaning her your hard earned money.  No, she never gave us any money.  We were just a bunch of black niggers and we were not entitled. So, Martha would coo, cajole, joke, and lie.  Martha could smell money.  Any one around  her with money would not have it long.  You would be forced into a crooked Tonk game or be made to pay for your meal.)

"I'm yo'mama! You live in MY house!  I keep yo'muthafucking assholes open!"   Ok! Ok! I would give her all my money.  Every last cent I had hidden away.  What was I saving for?  Just some decent clothes.   Martha never bought us any new clothes, rarely.  I must pause to cry.  What did the world think?  Martha encouraged XXX to drive her long sleek Sedan deVille Cadillac to school.  We profiled, parked in the student parking lot of E.E.Smith High school.  We got out of all that luxury looking fucking homeless.  My brother had only one Banlon knit shirt.  It was a long sleeved wool blend.  He wore it proudly EVERY FUCKING DAY!   I had one pair of shoes.  They were brown, I wore them every day pretending they matched everything I wore.  I pretended that I didn't care.  I got away clean.  I was only picked at once.

Poor dumb me, I would always kindly beg for my money back and get cussed the fuck out!  "WHAT! ?WHAT! ?  DID YOU ASS FO' YO'MONEY BACK!?   I HAD YO' SORRY BLACK FUCKING ASS! YOU OWE ME BITCH!!!"

What could I do?  I went in that whore's  purse and liberated my money myself!    The low slut never counted her money.  Just threw loose money in her pocketbook.  Martha never had any idea how much money she ever had.  She never asked for her change back either.  Demanding our money was just her way of having control.  Since Martha was a horrid promiscuous nymphomaniac play preacher she derived joy from making others miserable.

Our world should not judge murderers of such women too harshly.  I watch The First Forty-Eight hours "religiously".  Victims that have been stabbed over a hundred times are found much too often.  Most viewers are often mystified wondering how anyone could be so cruel.  I know.  And I thank GOD murdering my own mother never crossed my mind.

Praise the LORD!