In Memoriam Of A Former Self

I've been known to hold a grudge. I don't know why. It's not that I purposely do it but things, especially negative things have a way of resting with me. It's sad because I've found that I have the ability to hate other human beings. Something, I didn't know was possible. I've always tried to be a loving, understanding and kind person but I've never quite felt as strongly about people or situations as I do now.

Perhaps, it's getting older maybe it's just knowing more but over the last few days I've been thinking of a certain situation that happened last week. Oddly enough on my birthday: a hell of a day to learn compassion and how to cry for others.

So here I am, ten minutes and a blog draft ago, find myself making a mental list of sorts and thinking... "Wow, I really fucking hate Joan... 2) for two years I have abhorred but tolerated Jamie Lynn (her very name should provide some insight, well no it doesn't... However, saying "Trailer Park" does). Plus it bothers the hell out of her that I have never seen one. 3) and as of late... I'm not too crazy about Keifer." Actually, I'm feeling a little sorry for the latter.

Oh hell, I feel sorry for Joan too. Her very handsome 32 year old son, the "not so" recovering addict but "Manic Depressive" as she calls his affliction (or anyone who doesn't agree with her, for that matter), has lost another job and she wonders why he's such a scrub. He's just had a second child ( a little girl ), when he neglects emotionally and financially his three year old son.

Joan, doesn't understand that all that he is or is not, is in a great part because of her. She's told him all of his life that as a black man he will never get ahead nor have anything of value, he will always be considered less than because of his skin color and that it's a "white man's world" and that his place in it will always be one of oppression. She has filled his head with the same old blah, blah, stereotypical bullshit that has plagued the belief system of blacks for years. Who can win with those odds but somehow, someway he is to champion the opponent and win the race. It's sad that somehow she thinks that's love.

And if that isn't bad enough she doesn't read well. She's nearly 60, perhaps older. I can't keep up anymore. She's already celebrated her 57th birthday a few times since I've known her. She says it's her eyes but I'm starting to suspect otherwise. I'm guessing that she probably has a sixth grade education at best. I might add, from Jamaica. Just the thought of the Jamaican school system with upwards of 50 students to a class makes me cringe. Her only saving grace is that she married well. I guess the second time was a charm.

Knowing all of that or at least being aware of the bigger picture only makes it worse for me because I still can't find it in my heart to forgive her.

It makes me wonder, what kind of beast am I? Has my once seemingly overflowing well of benevolence run dry?

I don't know...But one thing's for sure...

I fucking hate ignorant people and I especially hate ignorant people that tell me what I can't accomplish because of my national origin or skin color. I loath, people who judge me or think they know me or others because of it. I might add somewhere in there that these people will often give their opinion without it, being solicited.

People who make sweeping statements suck ass. BIG TIME!


G-d grant me the serenity...

I am no longer a prisoner of my past—past regrets, earlier traumas, pain and suffering.

I believe in miracles and a joy-filled future.

I believe in myself.

I gain the courage to let go!

I let go.

Of everything.

Period.