I envision you in love with me. I invented you with hate for me. I called up all these demons. Now my angel will ignore me. Can we be what in my heart we were meant to be. Or is all I write about what we were meant to see.
I know I believe in the Above- But I was an Athiest to love. Then I was filled with inspiration. To find something pure as a white dove. We can be what in my heart we were meant to be. Now all I write about is what we were meant to see.
Forgive me for my actions so ungodly. You viewed my drastic change so oddly. I tried being like Mr. Huxtable. But I felt vile like Mr. Cosby. Are we what in my heart we were meant to be? I was in the dark, but I was truly meant to see.
Was I the Tin-Man or scarecrow? Looking back at how I played two roles. So heartless becuase I didn’t have a brain. You came in red shoes, showed me the road. And now look, we are in my heart what we were meant to be. This is more than writing, but we what we were meant to see.
You make this heart pump stronger. Sincerely, The Athiest No Longer.
This confession is actually about Beyoncé. I just defended her with the tenaciousness and the voracity, like I was one of her stans. Then, I came to an enlightenment, of sorts, afterwards.
Long story short: I was in mixed company (men and women, different races/cultures while eating Popeyes with wine), at a small dinner party, when the topic of Beyoncé came up. A song of hers began playing, over the radio. One of the party’s host (another Black woman, a childhood friend-turned-FB acquaintance, during the past fifteen years)started up with her uninvited critique about the singer (meaning, no one asked this bitch for her Rolling Stone Magazine-worthy review) and she began to make me feel uncomfortable.
It was uncomfortable because she began critiquing Beyoncé… Not about the music/the other projects that she has put out. In particular… About her physical looks (the whole ‘she’s trying to be white’), the rumors about the infidelity and about the ‘fake pregnancy’… And, about the singer’s level of intelligence. The barometer that she used were from old Beyoncé interviews and based off of her dialect and her diction from those conversations.
'She’s not smart… She doesn’t have a high school diploma…She sounds country…’ Then she started to perform this 'impersonation’ of her, which was extremely mean-spirited and reeked of educational elitism and anti-Black ideology.
Then, one of her friends (a non-Black person) started to laugh and nod his head in agreement.
And something in me just snapped. As someone who is living with a developmental problem (it takes me a few seconds to decipher words from a conversation, which makes my responses delayed) and I have a lisp, I was bullied/ridiculed and was perceived as being 'slow’… As being 'stupid’… As being 'dumb’. By kids and by adults. So, to hear this woman declared that another person was 'dumb’ because of her lack of higher education, her dialect, the location of her hometown and with her choice of words, it pissed me off.
So, I had gone-the fuck-off on her. I invoked the spirit of our patron saint of Sophisticated Reading For Filth, Mrs. Claire Huxtable and I told her about herself. I had to remind her that luck can only carry people so far and I doubt it wouldn’t carry fools into the same direction that Beyoncé is in, currently. Then I told her sorry ass that 'that dumb singer’ has managed to accumulate more of life’s goals than anyone that was inside of that room…. And she didn’t have to max out her credit cards and take money out of senile grandmother’s bank account to do so. *stared intently at her* Then I told her that she might a little right, after all, God looks after babies and fools. Then I gave her my ultimate “fuck you” by telling her that her dinner party sucked and the chicken was dry-as-fuck before I left.
(This is the enlightenment) I don’t feel comfortable critiquing factors from Black cultures, in front of non-Black people. In this case, Black celebs. In previous experiences, when this shit happened, non-Black people felt too-too-too comfortable and then it would go zero-to-100, quick.
Listen, I loathe Azaelia Banks’ personality. I believe Kanye is the Saint for fuckboys. Bill Cosby deserves to have barbed wire enemas for the rest of his life. But my Black-ass won’t say this shit in front of non-Black people because (a lot of times) those three people will be considered as a rep for our race and not just individual, Satan’s smegma, according to them.