In A Sentimental Mood

I am who  I am and what I am , for sixty-six years. A spirit called to this world to bring enlightenment, joy, knowledge, wisdom, culture, art, laughter.

What did I get? Raped ! Ruined! Stalked! Crucified! Hated! Made a blood sacrifice for my own mother!

The story of the Good Samaritan is me, is my story. My own mother ruined me, assaulted , robbed me and cast me into a ditch.  My own friends and family walked by, laughed at me in that ditch.   Some crossed the road to the other side. Some spit on me, blamed me for being in that ditch, declared it was my own fault.

Unfortunately, some were so glad to see me in that ditch , they threw more dirt on me.  Yes, some just flat out shit on me.  Fellow victims denied me, so glad to see me suffer,  they forgot their own pain.

One thing I know, one day some good Samaritan, some one free of lies, envy, and jealousy shall come by and help me to get out of this ditch.  They shall gladly help me tell my story. Help me put a headstone on my murdered grandfather's grave.

They will not rest knowing children are still being raped and crucified by their own mothers and fathers. They will not feign shame and humiliation.  They will not distance themselves from my struggle claiming they don't want black people to look bad.

No, it is not my story that you hate.  You hate me, you hate my gifts.  You envy my gifts.  May I please remind you, our many gifts are all GOD given. I've never had one art class in my life. I must admit, I do marvel at my own art, my own creations because I know I had nothing to do with it.

the HolySpirit can take a simple number two pencil and astonish me! The Holy Spirit controls my trembling hands as I mold caricatures.  The Holy Spirit controls my "Third Eye" and I can reproduce, replicate any art I see.

Don't hate me, this costs. My talent, my GOD given wisdom makes me a pariah in my own "family". Those that can't destroy it physically dismiss it as ugly trash.  Demean me and try to make me feel worse than I already do.

I did have some great teachers of writing composition in high school and college. To no avail.  This world held me down in that ditch anyway.

Do know GOD can't help YOU if you insist on playing god, insist on "liking" and "sharing" posts that you agree with. Posts that elevate you and make you look good.  Keep elevating yourself. If you read that Book you would know the wo/man that elevates himself shall be debased but , if you let the Holy Spirit elevate you, you shall be honored.

If you are ashamed of me, you are ashamed of The Holy Spirit.  Do all you can to please the "Man".  Articulate properly, accumulate degrees and wealth, I assure you, you will never be good enough.

Your hair will never look white enough.  You can never be small enough. Lose weight, lose your black heritage, lose your mind. You shall always be a NIGGER!

You shall always carry that black stain.

It took a great deal of courage for me to finally rip my blinders off, to finally see my own mother was never anything bur a sexual predator that murdered for her sadistic pleasure.

Yes, I am still in shock, abandoned and left to rot in a ditch because I'm not perfect, because I talk too much.  Yes, I am accused of being unforgiving by fake "Christians", blind sheep that actually think they are doing GOD's will while hiding black jealousy and evil envy in their cold hearts.

The main reason my mother got away with her treachery so long is , she was very charming, gregarious.  She was a viper.  She kept me confused, loving, hating, lying , throwing some truth in , here and there.

Yes, my own mother declared her undying love for me , for us, every day of her long life.

Jesus told me to look at their fruit, their deeds.  Words of comfort mean nothing when I can clearly see what you do.

Can black people honestly continue to blame the white man for our self hate?

REVERSE THE CURSE!

"COME YE OUT FROM AMONG THEM!"