So, not too long ago, I went to pick up a brake light for a Dodge Challenger that I was tinkering on. And when I arrived at my destination, the wonderful woman who was selling the part sparked a conversation about dealing with loss, depression, and uncertainty in life. Honestly, the seller seemed like she wanted to just pour into me, and I didn’t mind and wanted to offer a few words of encouragement, but she was saying many of the things that I would have said in response to her statements about the rough patch that she was experiencing. If you’re curious about the details, the woman heads a family-owned repair shop in a small town here in Georgia. Her husband had recently passed away, and she was having trouble finding someone who was skilled enough to make a complicated repair to her shop. The way the woman approached me with her heartfelt and honest discussion, I’m assuming that she Googled my name to assure that I was a real person, then discovered my blog. Over the years, I’ve noticed that a lot of people who have learned my full name upon our initial meeting interact with me differently—more conscientiously—upon our subsequent meetings. This is true for many of the places that I’ve frequented, like stores, shops, banks, etc. Diverging slightly, how often do you attempt to disassociate yourself from who you truly are? The woman who sold me the brake light knew exactly how she felt and why she felt that way. She was aware that trials and tribulations are tantamount to reality and its ramifications. And though she obviously needed comforting, she knew that she would survive and succeed. Sometimes, just acknowledging that you’re having a hard time defines your character. Like I keep saying, everybody isn’t honest with themselves. If you can ask yourself how you’re feeling, and be honest with yourself about your true feelings, conjuring the courage to express the truth to everyone else is a demonstration of your strength. And again, when nobody is telling the truth, everybody is ashamed of being honest. Deviating a bit, rapper Lil Durk, of America’s nigga-moment capital, Chicago, Illinois, was recently arrested for an alleged “murder for hire.” And every time another famous nigga is incarcerated, the first thing that I think about is the cultural disservice that is done when violent criminal activity is glamorized. Everyone can stand on a soapbox and proclaim to be in strict opposition to “senseless violence,” but we all know that everyone has their own list of violations that they consider punishable by—what I would call—own-hand violence. In a culture where the police are both dreaded and detested, and in a country where the judicial system is inequitable and iniquitous, everyone is watchful, wary, and willing to take matters into their own hands. Niggas don’t trust the police or the court system because both are oppressive and one-sided. And the police and the court system are unjust and unmerciful because they believe that niggas are pestilent and irremediable. In other words, niggas have a proclivity for “senseless violence” because cooperating with the police is a violation of street codes that’s punishable by own-hand violence, which niggas believe makes sense. And the police and the court system have a penchant for misfeasance because niggas’ self-destructive proclivities epitomize their inferiority in society, which the former believes justifies the mistreatment of niggas. In my opinion, more young, black police officers—little niggas who are to legally patrol and protect their own neighborhoods—is a simple solution to black culture’s disliking and distrust of law enforcement. If Lil Durk and his contemporaries were smart, they’d have all of their “goons” and “savages” with clean records take criminal justice courses at a community college so they could become police officers. But perhaps changing niggas’ minds is easier said than done.
To a victim, the severity of their suffered violation isn’t important, and they generally just want to see the violator be victimized. That’s the world that we live in—tit for tat. Like I’ve said before, victims and their sympathizers can be some of the most entitled, intolerant, vindictive, inconsiderate, and violent people on the planet. And what I mean by that is, victims like to victimize—or “hurt people hurt people.” Whether y’all like it or not, if you desire for something to change, you must be the change. I keep telling y’all to stay the fuck away from people, but how many of you have the discipline, maturity, and composure to stay out of the way, soul-search, and evolve? I was once in my yard, cutting my grass near the street with a weed whacker, and some stupid-ass nigga approached me and said, “hey, you’re supposed to stop when I walk by.” So, I paused, looked up, and politely replied, “go ‘head, man.” Then, this fucking loser started to tell me where he was from, and how it’s about respect, so I upped the tone on his dumb ass and stated, “man, gon’ ‘head!” Of course, he went on about his business. But I wasn’t really aggravated that the stupid motherfucker didn’t just walk to the other side of the street to avoid potential flying debris, I was upset that the nigga interrupting me made me so mad. We all have triggers. And the same discipline, maturity, and composure that will help you find your soul will help you save it. Everything isn’t about you. Do you appreciate that offending or insulting someone, regardless of how sensitive said person is, makes them feel like a victim? And unfortunately, the more sensitive a person is, the more violated they feel when offended or insulted. With that being said, per my prior statement, if you must be the change that you desire to see, at a minimum, be less insensitive. Insensitivity is not giving a fuck about people’s feelings, which is the foundation of violations. In the streets, being soulless and fuck-free are assumed requirements and advantages, so one should never expect niggas to be subject to soul-searching and fuck-giving. As the late Maya Angelou so straightforwardly put it, “when someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” Granted, I’m a proponent of giving people a chance to change, but stupidity is a condition, a lifestyle, and an intrinsic human trait. Even the most innocent and harmless things can be done stupidly, and no one’s exempt. For instance, driving attentively is usually safe, but driving attentively without a seat belt is dangerous. Consensual sex with protection is generally innocuous, but protected consensual sex with someone else’s unfaithful partner can be injurious. Careful human interaction could be comfortable, but careful human interaction among careless people can turn confrontational. Shit happens all day, every day, and there ain’t shit that we can do about it. But accepting that stupidity is immutable, and that there’s nothing humans can do to escape their own humanity or anybody else’s, could be the antidote to all the poisonous toxicity that both victims and violators spew. Being less sensitive and insensitive, simultaneously, will drastically reduce one’s susceptibility to being stupid and being affected by stupidity. Listen, everyone knows that there’s a certain someone’s ass that I’d like to whoop all up and down a New Jersey suburb, but them folks is watching! To whom it will never not concern, I’ve been addressing y’all directly the entire time. Again, I have never and will never pay for your Patreon content, and only listen to portions of the free shit. Stop speaking in code and coincidences, stop creating fake scenarios that mimic my life, stop pissing off “Miss,” and stop being stupid. I know who you are, I know what you want. If you are looking for pity, I don’t have any. But what I do have, are a very particular set of skills. Skills that I have acquired over a very informing life. Skills, that make me a nightmare for people like you. Speak up, or good luck! Peace.