ME...WACKO???

"The worse thing you can call a person is crazy. It's dismissive"
-Dave Chapelle

If my bank account allowed me the freedom to up & run away to Afraka right now, God only knows how fast my long legs would get me to the first available airline carrier. The last time that "a friend" called me crazy, eye hauled off and punched them square in the face. That was in two thousand and one in the midst of a revealing therapy stint that left me confronting the supressed molestations of my childhood. It would be years before eye could frankly admit that a raging nut is exactly what was brewing in my brain, though the guilty party had since changed their story to appear as though they had only said eye was acting crazy. Semantics; same difference. Lying can ease one's inner guilt.

For that same person to act out and call me crazy (no acting in there for certain) today bounces off my back and dead into the water because what does not fit simply cannot stick. It actually makes me chuckle at times because eye feel so fortunate to be so sane to even know the difference at this stage in my life. Empty words cannot hurt me, neither can they fill me anymore. Truth however, does hurt those who are unwilling to face it. If telling the truth makes me a lunatic, then nominate me queen, because that's what self-analyzation has led me to honor most within myself.

Love makes people do strange things. The lack of love leads people to show their true lack of compassion in strangely forced ways. Eye love my self enough to not want to continue to subject myself to the abuse that comes from the lack thereof. Eye love my unborn enough to want a healthy arrival in a safe and loving environment. Somehow, someway, without money or midwife, eye am certain that the creator has love for us. In this mindstate, eye await the blessings in store.

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