I know the World is all screwy. How racist are we? I know our President is a bad one. I know he's not viewed bad by those on the right, and maybe because he hated Obama so much. This weekend I finally got rid of my last right wing poster. I just cannot do it anymore. Is he racist? I don't think so.
I was born in the Suburbs of Chicago. My leanings as I grew older were definitely to the right. I read different books though. Ones that questioned the greatness of our past. You add in a President who was quick to go to War, although when it was his turn he was quick to hide.
As an 18 year old, I would have had no desire to go to war. As someone in charge later in my life, I would be hesitant to send 18 year old kids to do what I wasn't willing to do.
Life is unfair. Reading those other History books removed the scales from my eyes. The writing exam i took to graduate College is still true today. How racist are we? I have absolutely no idea. I have no idea how it is to be a black man born in this Country. A white guy can disappear. A black man always is showing he looks different than a lot. I know there is a good amount of dislike for brown people too. They stole the American dream from us somehow is what I gather.
Inside us all is anger. Hate is here too. We all have that in common. Unrealistic expectations that life is supposed to be this great thing is probably the root of much of our evils.
Life is not this great thing. Even Solomon said it would be better if you were never born, or were aborted before birth. So the Bible argues for abortion. It's not exactly a blessing you walk in these parts, and many probably will find out too late the opposite is true.
I don't know how racist we are? My guess is if you are a black person born in the south side of Chicago your life will be quite different than my Northwestern Suburb upbringing. I can't even say growing up for me was easy. I did have peer pressure, and I was insecure. I didn't have peer pressure to join a gang, or peddle drugs. my Dad was around, and actually the Mom was missing. I had a step mom though.
In the end I found myself not happy. I wasn't happy about the World. I wasn't happy I was in this World. No point to it. I was just going to die. What's the point?
So I did what I did. I went my route. A route you cannot see. One you cannot understand. I saw clearer and clearer the truth of our existence. Geesh, I even went in the wilderness again too. I needed help to be able to go there again. My heart was not willing, so it had to be changed to do such a thing.
People are mad, and people are divided. A lot of shit to worry about these days. We are only so far from catching a nasty virus. The pain this Economy will have to endure has not been felt yet.
I don't give money to homeless people. I did before. In doing this I found I can pretty much help no one. In living my life I found I could not help myself. I needed help to go the route I took. I need help to finish it. So the worth of me alone is basically nothing. The story I will live though I guess is what has value. The story I was willing to make at the expense of all the greatness I would have become if I didn't.
At 53 it seems like such an easy decision. At 26 or whatever things looked different.
Anyway, one of my failures yesterday, is I didn't make my salads. Gotta run.
Laterzzzzzzzzz. :)
xoxo. :)
xxoo. :)
Byeeeeeeee. :)))
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