I suspect the gloom has encircled me. I gather the white mans covered wagons and protect myself by placing myself in this circle of wagons for protection. My heart is heavy and gone bad, but I do see a change coming. For now I sense that I am in a state of mourning. I am. The massacre of so many wee young children in Connecticut has brought forth much turmoil within this skull and brains of mine. I just can't wrap my head around or about this evil perpetrated against such Innocent's. The lives this tragedy has had an impact upon. The very family of these children and teachers, all Shero's and Hero's in my heart. My Soul has seen this massacre in vision. The Horror is indescribable. My Spirit's have been touched by the utterly horrific mourning the family's of these Souls undertake. Their friends, neighbours, and their nation, The United States Of America. The daily obituaries, the daily burials in their tiny little caskets. I have avoided as much news as possible, for a spell. I am a News junkie and speculate this is a way my inner child wishes to handle this. So I listen to him. We'll wait a spell before we release this sadness, gloom and mourning. The all of me in this 53 year old human shell who still recognizes his little dude within, the adolescent and the Young American Mixed Breed fighting for equal rights for so many of us who live right her in America. Recognizes, folks have to stop the evil.
I have never been able to figure out a certain mystery manifested within that has been a part of who I am since way back in childhood. It tends to stem from the reality's of death and the energy that death creates and manipulates. How death seems to distort time and distract from life. As death takes the life from our very heart. Physically if we're dieing - figuratively if left behind.
I have often wondered what has happened with them who at some point and time in my life meant so much to me. The Kinfolk that were met in passing, like at wedding's, reunions and funerals. Those awesome Kindred Spirit's that were met in therapeutic groups, my peer's and co-workers of jobs that seem to have taken place lifetimes ago. My dear friends from school and the military...
...too many have crossed over and are now members of Heavenly Choirs and are the Angels sent to aid them in need...
Kin, who were Victims of violence, some of it racial, some of it Black on Black crime. Some White on White? Some got involved with the drug scenes, cocaine, heroine, the crack etc. It was their "Drug of Choice", that ended up enveloping and absorbing them into the under world of street life, addiction and death. Be it by overdose, AIDS or murder. Death still = death, Honey's. The dear ones who succumbed to diseases that seem to wreck every family, such as the Cancers, blood and Heart diseases and problems like my dear Mum, and AIDS. Yes, AIDS, this disease took so many Kinfolk and Kindred alike. AIDS, took my loved One's through a living hell and took them all in a slow and dreadfully painful sad demise of the one who was once so real, alive and productive human beings. Like you and me. AIDS, waits and waited and kept waiting, while waiting for their final breathe. Especially, the One most near and dear to me, his name was Mr. Phillip Payton. You see? "Silence = Death", remains too true for me and so many like me. Like you too.
There have been Kin, taken by the automobile accidents and drownings. To die from Asthma. Them Killed In Action. Cousins, who had their planes fall from the sky. One who upped and died while out on a Caribbean cruise holiday. One electrocution, while on the job. Did Worker's Compensation apply? I do not know.
Too so many Suicide's, by 'their' guns, fire, as in self-emulation, pills and more guns. One a shot gun, the other a side arm. My Cousins. I have had suicide living in special quarters in my family's DNA. My DNA. What the fuck? I know it's here in me and if you are kinfolk reading these words, you know you do too. And lie if you want to. Yes, there have been times in my life when I have considered copping out on life. I know now to live, but am not afraid of death.
There are some who I never wish to see again, then there are those I will never see again, because they are long gone. Die, died, dead. Them who were the perpetrators in my lives, past and present. To them, I still say fuck you and to the mothers who gave birth to them and or you, fuck you too. Which in a very peculiar fashion, hits mighty close to home when pertaining to two very specific men who are perpetrator's of sexual abuse. The sexual abuse? The rapes? The Incest! I say, I know, you know, that I know you knew. So fuck you too.
I have often wondered what has happened with them who at some point and time in my life meant so much to me. The Kinfolk that were met in passing, like at wedding's, reunions and funerals. Those awesome Kindred Spirit's that were met in therapeutic groups, peer's and co-workers of jobs that seem to have taken place lifetimes ago, dear friends from school and the military...
...today is a good day to die.
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