11.13.17

I want to get far away from here. I daydream about rides off into the sunset. About going to essence festivals and not being looked at funny because I’m not a goofy white girl. Even tho I look white. I imagine somewhere I can just be myself, dancing in the hot desert sun, sand whirling around me like fairy dust, sticking to my baked body. I get in these moods where literally every person I can hear breathing around me sets me on edge. Especially anyone interrupting my daily routine. I’m very mechanical in a sporadic way. I need specific things to be set in place to keep me happy. I walk into work, I need my own space with my own drawers that I keep things in I may use on a daily basis; such as Tylenol to stop my head from banging as these stupid girls incessantly cluck at each other about the stupidest things like Kim K or decorating their stupid apartments or whatever gossip is most interesting. I just want to stand up out of my chair and scream “WHY THE F AM I HERE?!?!?!” With my body in the Y shape of the Village People. I am being micromanaged by a stupid witch that barely graduated high school. No college. I have a 4 year degree. That took me 8 years to get because I was working 3 jobs at a time. What kind of America is this? You’re suppose to put in the work and get rewarded. That’s not good enough. You have to be a shark. A vicious monster. Monster I do well. But always to the wrong people. I wish to stab in the back all my adversaries but I end up kissing their rings and hoping they hold me close enough to change their minds. I hope one day to be such a great literary phenomenon that I can flaunt my success to all these haters that ever tried to flex their “power” over me. What control do you have? I think that’s why I have no appreciation for authority. I care not what title some baboon has given you to make you think you can control me. What I care about are actions that make you a worthy leader. Behavioral patterns that make you trustworthy.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s