An Appeal To Black Mothers: Don’t Perpetuate Self-Loathing

 

 

Yesterday, I was talking with a woman who was about the same age as myself, late fifties, and she was telling me about her childhood and as she did so, I could not help but gasp because we could have been sisters growing up in the same household as her experiences mirrored my own.

She was telling me of how the police had to be called to her home damn near every weekend and multiple times during the week over domestic assault issues. She also told me about the fights; the throwing of objects at each other and whatnot that her parents engaged in. She also spoke of the insults that she endured on a regular basis coming from her own mother. She told me how growing up in that environment only made her life turn out exactly like her mother’s. She married an abusive man, put up with untold abuse until she could no longer take it and divorced his ass. She told me that to this day, she has to distance herself from her mother and that her mother gets on her case because she is looking out for her sick father. She told me that even after telling her mother that her father has no one and that she, her mother, is married and has a husband to look after her, why does she have a problem with her helping out her ailing father? Her mother in fact told her that when she dyed her hair a Kool-aid burgundy color, “You look like a nigger!”

Now for those of you who read my blog titled, “A Letter To My Mother On Her 77th Birthday! Happy Birthday Mother,” then you know that what this lady told me is exactly what you have read on that blog. Again, we could have lived in the same household because her life mirrors mine down to a “T.”

Here is an excerpt from that blog:

I am going to attempt to find the words to convey just what emotions you evoke in me mother; hate, disgust, loathing and yes…pity, for you are so despicable, nasty and hateful that no one wants to come around you and I actually pity you. I spent so many years trying to gain affection from you that was never yours to give because you hate yourself. You loathe yourself for why else would you stay with a man who, when you were pregnant with me, your first baby, threw you a quarter when you told him you were hungry and he said, upon throwing you a quarter, “Here, I wouldn’t want to see a dog hungry.” And yet you thought so little of yourself that not only did you continue to lie with that slug, you brought two more children into this world to be condemned to live with two people who hated each other. We learned to hate as well.

As you can see, it is crystal clear that many Black women loathe themselves; have no respect for themselves, feel as though they are worthless since they will settle for an abusive asshole who beats their asses and yet they stay with them year after year and those mothers take that shit out on their children. They subject their children to untold cruelties and then are pissed at their children for the rest of their life for becoming a mirror image of them. That shit’s not on your children, that shit’s on you! Your self-loathing and lack of respect for yourself is something that you never dealt with and you subjected your children to your own lack of self worth. You became a punching bag; an outlet for some no good man to take his frustrations out on. You subjected your children; those you CHOSE to bring into this world to a life of sheer torture, pain, terror, racism and some more shit and they were ill-prepared to deal with that shit! You gave them no means in which to be guided through the system of white supremacy that you know exists because you live under that oppressive system. You gave your children an added burden; the burden of trying to maneuver through a system that was evil to its core and lethal to your children while they also had the extra burden of your baggage to carry around with them. You set them up for failure. You did your best to see to it that your children would suffer, mightily. And we have. You did us no favors. We had an enemy from our own camp to set us up and then tossed us to another enemy on a battlefield on which we never stood a chance. We were not prepared because we were damaged goods already before we even knew what was going to hit us. How do you Black mothers who have done this to your children, live with yourselves? If you could not handle life as a Black woman, then why bring Black children into despair and horror that is the world you exist in that makes you loathe and hate yourself? Your children will not thank you for what you did; hurled them out into a world they were ill-prepared for and told them to sink or swim. And yet you castigated us and treated us with derision when we made decisions that mirrored your own. We took our cue from you. We learned at your knee. We looked to you. That shit’s not on us, it’s on you! You are why you hate us. You ‘gifted’ us with no silver spoons, but with tarnished hearts, battered bodies and broken minds, helpless and barely adrift in a sea of hate everywhere we turned, even when we turned to you..our mothers. What chance did we stand? How could we have turned out any better than we did? And yet you mothers of us blame us for why we are your mirror image. You act as though, we, somehow, should have emerged from a chrysalis to a well-rounded adult free from issues and with the ability to take on a world that hated the very sight of us because of our skin color.

No Black mothers! We have you to thank for refusing to realize that your actions would have consequences and those consequences would come right back to you. You get no thanks from us because you are due none. We cannot thank you for bequeathing us so little and yet expecting so much from us in return. We can only give you what you gave us; nothing more. And yet you expect much from us. Oh yes, we are YOUR children, but we are battered children. We suffer from YOUR abuse. We have “Battered Children’s Syndrome,” and it is very real. And we’re not talking merely about the physical battering of us, but more importantly, the mental battering of us. That was worse. The resulting scars from that are far more lasting and damaging than the physical ones. I can still see some of the physical damage on my body from the whippings and beatings, but by far, the mental damage is much, much worse. Where does a child turn when their own mother is their very first enemy? Where does a child turn when they face an enemy that hates them because they were born and to whom they were born hates them because she hates herself? Where? Can someone tell me? Tell us? Because there are many “me’s” out there! The lady that I spoke with told me that she thought she was the only one. I assured her that she was not. She actually sighed in relief when she heard that because she thought it was just her. Oh, how wrong she was. And oh how right I wish she had been.

And so it is true that this poem taken from that other blog to my mother is to ALL the Black children who are broken and who were broken before they ever experienced hatred from the rest of the world, but knew it coming from their own mother.

Happy Birthday Mother!

Yes, you brought me into this world;
a squalling little Black baby girl.
You belittled everything I ever did
and you beat me for nothing when I was a kid.

You want me to honor, love and respect you
when what I did was from you, take my cue.
I have never known what love is and I never will.
Not one tear for love will my eyes ever spill.

I’ve been called cold, callous and cruel,
but never have I been called, “love’s favorite fool.”
I know that this should be all about your day,
and it is in its own strange and morbid way.

There is just something that needs saying
because in this town where you live, I’m not staying.
I have come running every time you’ve ever called
and listened to each admonishment on my character, you’ve drawled.

That stops here and now because I don’t need you anymore.
I never really did but I’ve just got to settle the score.
When you talked about me to your acquaintances, that hurt.
But knowing what you are mother, I’m an expert.

I’ve watched you down through the years
send people packing with words sharper than shears.
I’ve listened to you drone on about how great you are
when you are too evil and wicked for hell by far.

You’ve got foul names for everyone you ever meet.
The language you use, the derogatory names, you bleat
to anyone who will come within your reach.
You sit on your ass and search for an invective to screech.

Then you have the nerve to wonder why you sit home alone
and that to this very day, there’s nothing for you to atone.
But your day is coming mother. It may not be here yet,
but then again, you may already be paying your debt.

Your favorite one of us died from drugs years ago
and the man you couldn’t leave hated your ass from the get-go.
Even his friends said he died to get away from you
and this I can believe because I’d do the same thing too.

So sit in your big falling down house and think,
think of all the reasons why you should take to drink.
Believe that you are good and that all others are at fault
And you’ll still deny your evilness when they lower you in that vault.

And lower you they will mother, for we must all go that route.
But don’t you think for one second that your ‘goodness’, I will tout.
You are evil personified and though I may drop dead first,
at least I’ll have the pleasure of knowing that your ass is accursed.

You will lie beside a man who hated you to the end.
Your youngest died years ago and she was a dope fiend.
And yet you blame us for problems we never placed at your door
even though you share the blame because we are what you bore!

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2019 Shelby I. Courtland

To the Black mothers who are like mine and the lady that I mentioned in this blog, this is our thanks to YOU! You’ve ‘earned’ it!

Greenbrier Management Is Trying To Make My Life A Living Hell! See The Pictures And Call Greenbrier Management About How They Treat Their Tenants!

Back in February of this year, February 10th to be exact, I was featured on WDBJ7 news out of Roanoke, Virginia because I received a 60-day notice to vacate my apartment at the end of my lease with the former owners who sold the property to Greenbrier Management Company. Deal Properties ended its dealings with this apartment complex in December and Greenbrier Management took over and immediately increased our rent by $400.00 beginning at the end of our current lease with Deal Properties. But I was the only one handed a notice to vacate. Of course, because I am the only one in Lynchburg, Virginia who is exposing what is going on here.

Two days ago, there was a suspicious waterfall leak that supposedly came from a third floor apartment with a busted water heater. According to the tenant in that unit, she has no damage. According to the tenant in the apartment underneath her, he only has a small water spot on his floor. Now take a look at the pictures of my apartment and explain to me how I received this much damage while the other supposedly affected apartments suffered no or minor water spot damage. And if anyone is wondering why I have not called the Lynchburg City Inspectors, it is because I have called them out here numerous times and it has been absolutely useless! I am the brunt of retaliation, doncha know! I don’t care! I am still going to continue to get the racism that is as much a part of Lynchburg as stink on shit, spread far and wide. I knew they were going to throw mess at me and believe me, I have been dealing with this shit ALL my life. It has prepared me for the continuation of it. But I wanted to share with you just what those of us who are brave enough and bold enough to expose the evil, racist rot that permeates this shithole go through!

Should anyone paying their rent on time have to deal with this, day after day?

This is what I am dealing with.

Another picture.

ceiling fucked up

This is the thirteenth leak in this apartment, but this if by far, the worst one.

The blowing machines that were set up to dry that fucked up carpet that was saturated and needs to be hauled the fuck out! And yeah, OUR electricity bill is going to reflect this shit!

I have to make use of a walker and as you can see, there is NO way that I can get through this mess with my walker!

That shit’s not drying ANYTHING! It is only using up our electricity.

Another useless blower!

 

Look at the ceiling!!! Why have we not be offered another unit? We paid our rent on time throughout the entire pandemic. When I was interviewed on February 10th by news channel WDBJ7 out of Roanoke, VA, I gave the reporter copies of ALL rent receipts showing ALL rent payments for the last FOUR PLUS YEARS. It will have been FIVE years in this hellhole come the end of September! I have since found out that the reporter who interviewed me has been FIRED!!!!! Go figure! I feel SO sorry for her!!!!

As you can see, there is no way that I can get through there with a walker!!!!

There is ceiling damage throughout this bitch!

We are tripping over the wires!

The water even got inside the area where the water heater is. I had to make the maintenance man open that up because and you can see the water mark. The water even leaked inside the breaker panel. The maintenance man told the office manager that “all was good over here.” WHAT????!!!!!!

What could we possibly do to damage this shit anymore than what is going on now and yet when we leave, I am sure they will find some excuse to keep some if not ALL of our damage deposit even though it can be clearly seen that none of this damage was caused by us. We were awakened at 5AM to the sound of a waterfall. And VOILA!!!

I had to post this one again because as you can see, we have no smoke detector and the maintenance man had told the office that “All was good over here.” WHAT???!!!! His ass just left here with a flea in his damn ear!!!!!!

This is what the outside looked like when a concrete balcony fell and Deal Properties was the owner at that time. And now you see what it looks like on the inside now that Deal Properties no longer has this property in its portfolio. This is now on Greenbrier Management Company.

 

Folks, do NOT rent from:

Greenbrier Management Company

And if you do, call the office at these numbers

(434)515-0466 and

(804)380-5293

 

And ask them why they have filled Craigslist with robo-listings of brand spanking new $1,000+ apartments out here while we are living in a dump thanks to some sort of twisted shenanigans because no other apartment is looking like this. Other tenants are not experiencing this. So why me? Because I am outspoken and I am on a mission. As I stated, the reporter who interviewed me on the rent hikes back in February of this year, has been fired from her job and I am sure I know why because she recorded Greenbrier Management’s Vice President, Eddie Duke, telling her that our rent would only go up $50.00 at the end of our current lease as opposed to a $400 increase. I could post the paperwork detailing that, but it has another tenant’s information on there and I’m not going to expose them to anymore shit especially since ALL of this is directed at me. The other tenant is just caught up in this mess by association.

According to Greenbrier, the issues have been abated. Look at this!

SERIOUSLY?????!!!!!!

But they can robo-post on Craigslist! Unbelievable!

This is what the folks at Greenbrier are doing while I’m living like I’m in a hut in Bangladesh.

Yep, just play on the computer while an actual tenant is screeching about the conditions of her ‘apartment’.

And here!

As you can see, they’ve plenty of time on their hands for ‘other’ things. Other more ‘important’ things.

 

Greenbrier Management,

(434)515-0466 and

(804)380-5293

what a joke!

 

To The Racists In Lynchburg, Virginia, I’m Putting Your Asses On Notice And To My Mother Who Claims I Constantly Embarrass Her, Get Over It!

 

 

Lynchburg, Virginia boasts of nothing but confederate this and confederate that. There is a confederate trail at a cemetery on Fort Avenue. The sign encourages anyone driving on Fort Avenue to walk the confederate trail. There are streets named, “Plantation Road,” and “Confederate Avenue.” Homage is paid to the so-called ‘heroes’ of the confederacy. A tree that used to be a lynching tree was mourned by the racists in Lynchburg, Virginia when lightning struck the tree and killed it. Not too long ago, there was a scandal whereas Jerry Falwell stated that he would wear a mask only if it depicted whites in black face or wearing Ku Klux Klan (KKK) outfits. We had a governor who was dressed in either or both, but was trying to backtrack from that fact. Remember Governor Northam. We also had a restaurant on Fifth Street called, Fifth And Federal Station whereas the owner ordered ‘black face’ and KKK masks for his workers. Fifth and Federal Station has since closed down and another restaurant is slated to open in its former space. I will not be heading in there because whatever is going to take the place of that racist piece of shit, Fifth and Federal Station, is more than likely going to be more of the same.

I am pointing all of this out to say that this entire burg, all 49.6 square miles is 49.6 square miles of pure, unadulterated racism. This burg’s whites are so racist that dating back as far as I can remember in my childhood, I only remember seeing two white faces until I started going to school and one white face belonged to a doctor, Dr. Morris. He was the only pediatrician who would see Black children. If not for Dr. Morris, I don’t know what we would have done. I remember him as a kindly man, who when I had chicken pox, popped one of them and I was like, “Ewwww, that’s nasty!” He told me to stay home in bed and take it easy. I also remember when I had tonsillitis, he referred me to Dr. Rischer and Dr. Rischer was another fine doctor who also saw Black patients back then. He was an ear, nose and throat doctor who also operated to take bad tonsils out. I remember my mother told me that Doctor Rischer said that I was the prettiest patient that he had operated on that day and he had also operated on a little white child and my mother noted that the mother of the white child turned green upon hearing Dr. Rischer say that. And so as far as I am concerned,  there were probably about two or three whites who were not extremely racist in this burg because even when I started school and we were integrated with the whites, the white kids took to me like ducks take to water and when I would refuse to have anything to do with them, I would get called to the principal’s office and asked why was I not speaking to Teresa or Donna or whomever. I’m like, “WTH!” “I talk to whomever I please, or not!” 

But as usual, I digress. I want ALL the racists in Lynchburg, Virginia, and you know who you are, to understand this fact, I am not going to let up on you racist pieces of shit until something is done about reining your vile, vicious, evil, racist shit in. You are going to be MADE to answer for the racist, evil shit that you are doing to those who look like me. It is way past time that something was done to stop that shit and I am going to make every breath that I take, a breath that is used to speak out on what the hell you fucktards are doing to Black people in this hellish burg that you treat as your own personal fiefdom and as though you don’t have to abide by laws, regulations, rules or anything that’s not put on the books by you vile and filthy pieces of putrid racist filth! I was born in this cesspool and so there is very little that I don’t know about it and what I did not know, I quickly found out. So, you can attempt to do your worst to me, but that is only going to embolden me to go after your damn racist asses with everything I can muster to make sure that the evil shit you do is uncovered and that you are made to answer for it.

As for my mother, who is one who shucks and jives to you racists and gets her voice set all nice and sweet when talking to a damn racist but yet cusses her children out as if we’ve done something wrong by merely existing, I’ve got a few words for you. You don’t even want to sit inside a restaurant with me. You won’t even go inside a store with me, talking about how loud I am and what an embarrassment I am to you. You have told me over and over what an embarrassment I am to you. What the fuck do you mean? I am YOUR flesh and blood and so if I am an embarrassment to you, you are an embarrassment to me because I did not give birth to you, you gave birth to me. I remember you coming home exclaiming over what those rich white little shits used to do when you were cleaning their homes and how you mistreated us because we weren’t the rich white little shits that you had just left. How the fuck was that on us? That shit was on you! I didn’t ask to be born in a cesspool of racism called “Lynchburg, Virginia.” That shit was on you and that sperm donor daddy who was useless and who told us that we were an embarrassment to him as well. Really???!! How the hell could we have been an embarrassment to a piece of filth that beat your ass, tried to beat my baby sister’s ass, wanted to beat my ass, but I wasn’t having it and also was never home because he was too busy out whoring around? The two of you were the worst parents any children could ever have and we were an embarrassment to you assholes???!?!!! Get the fuck outta here!!!

The same quack you have for a doctor is the same quack I have, but the difference is, you more than likely will do everything that filthy, racist fucker suggests. I’m sure your ass is vaccinated and boostered the hell up and yet someone told me that you’re experiencing kidney problems. You know, at one time, I would be feeling sorry for you, but that sorry dried up aeons ago and it will never surface again. I used to try and help your ass out even when you were belittling me, but that ship has sailed. Tell folks when was the last time you laid eyes on me. You can’t even fucking remember. And I hear tell that your ass is so foul, you sent Baeboo packing when she was trying to help you. And she has the patience of Job, but even she had to leave your ass, high and dry. Even Bubba said that when he pass by your house, the pedal is most definitely meeting the metal, he don’t want to give you a chance to flag him the fuck down. Ain’t nobody trying to fuck with you, but I’m the embarrassment???!!!!

You would talk about your own children to these racists that didn’t give a damn about you or us. Those racists would call you and cry in your ear on the phone talking about their fucked up lives because even having loads of money, don’t stop the issues and yet, when you came home from cleaning their homes, all you’d talk about is little Jessica said this and little Jenny said that and what Jay did and how cute Jenny said something. But would turn around and cuss us the hell out, but yet we are YOUR embarrassment????!!!! Are you fucking serious???? And you wonder why I have ZERO respect for you now??? I just know you don’t!!!! And I meant every single goddamn word of that letter I wrote for you and posted on this blog for your 77th birthday and I hope you saw it.

You put racists over us. You were made privy to the criminal acts of racists and yet what did you do about it? You fucking kept quiet about the shit because you were too intent on telling your own flesh and blood how much of an embarrassment we were to you. I was such an embarrassment that you allowed a man to beat my ass in your house while you and that sperm donor father of mine watched. I was such an embarrassment to you and yet I was the only one who would pull your husband off your ass when he was kicking you six ways to Sunday even though you used to drive us to illegal nip joints at night and leave us. But we are the embarrassment????!!!! And I am still appalled by your holier than thou attitude when we used to have to sit up in church and listen to that bullshit and then go home and watch the two of you fight like cats and dogs because of your husband’s whoring ways. He even stated long before he died that he was leaving no will because he wanted us all to fight over his belongings. What belongings? A big, fucked up house, three fucked up vehicles, some suits and some rings???!! I wanted nothing from his ass and that is exactly what I received because you were too busy handing his suits and rings over to the ‘men’ who had beat your daughters all throughout their marriage until I escaped, fled the state and my sister finally divorced her piece of shit scumbag husband. But yet you still claim them to this very day as being your “sons-in-law.” You’re going to have to answer for that shit just like these vile, vicious racists are going to have to answer for their shit! But I’ll be damned if I’m YOUR embarrassment heifer because YOU ARE MINE!!! Now suck on that!!!

All y’all Lynchburg racist motherfuckers are on notice and I don’t give a shit what you throw at me, I’m throwing shit right back at your foul asses!! If I’ll throw my own mother under the goddamn bus since she claims I’m some sort of embarrassment to her, then every motherfucking body else is going underneath that bitch as well!! All y’all Lynchburg racist motherfuckers are fair game!!! And I ain’t fucking playing! And if any of my so-called ‘other relatives’ want a piece of this action, try me!! Yeah! Your asses already know to leave me the fuck alone! You don’t want this smoke because you know I know all y’all’s fucking business! You better keep the fuck quiet while I do MY thang!

I Was Diagnosed On June 12th With COVID And Strep Throat After Having Traveled To Atlantic City, NJ On Business

People, please take a proactive role in your own health care. Please do NOT merely take the advice of these Death squads out here frontin’ as doctors. I see why people were dropping like flies over this COVID mess. It was intentional. I was not advised to take any holistic means to help combat COVID. I was told to take the most harsh, the most fucked up treatments that are out there and if I had done so, I truly believe that I would not be here typing this blog today. I cannot stress it enough that your loved ones are dead, not because they contracted COVID, but because of what was administered to them by the Death squads that are out to do us MUCH HARM and I do mean MUCH HARM. As the story goes, a picture speaks a thousand words and so I will not just write about what my experience has been, but there will be accompanying pictures to back up what I am saying. Here goes.

I went to Atlantic City on the 6th of this month because I had some business to take care of and I stayed at Bally’s Hotel and Casino. Pictures are below.

Bally’s hotel room

 

And here is my so-called, “ocean view room.” That’s the “ghetto ocean view room” view. I’m Black, doncha know!

The view from the fourth floor. Bally’s has 38 floors. So yeah, I got the ‘ghetto ocean view’.

 

And here!

 

Black folks always get treated like this even though our money is still green. And in this next picture, this is all I could find beyond the boardwalk and the casinos to take a picture of. Atlantic City still looks like shit!

In da hood, there’s always going to be a liquor store. Go figure!

 

So I get back from Atlantic City and my throat immediately starts hurting, feels like it is on fire while someone is also cutting it open. I start feeling like my throat is also clogged and I keep trying to clear it. I can’t take it and so I go to the Lynchburg General Emergency Room located here in Lynchburg, VA because I’m like, I got strep throat or something.

At the ER, of course they claim that all I have are viral infections, one of which is most likely COVID and I’m sitting there saying that I also have a bacterial infection in my throat. Well, they swab both nostrils and my throat and of course, the tests come back positive for COVID and strep throat. I am told that I need to go to Virginia Baptist Hospital the next day since that day was Sunday and get the “infusion treatment.” I’m like, “No, I’m not getting INFUSED with anything!” They were like, “I highly recommend this because you have an autoimmune disease, Hashimoto thyroiditis.” I tell them that I don’t care about that, I’m not getting ANYTHING infused in me. If I die, I die.

This is the referral to get that “infusion therapy” that I had already adamantly refused. It was stuck in the packet of release forms anyway.

The ‘dead squad’ pulls out the papers, pretending to look them over, but refusing to show them to me until I’m escorted out the damn ER. This is what it said and be sure to look REAL CLOSE at what I have circled and don’t forget the part about, “IT IS STILL EXPERIMENTAL!!!!”

As you can see, “infusion therapy” is totally new and nothing is really known about this, but I was supposed to just go in and get some shit “INFUSED” into my body. NOT HAPPENING!!!!

After I walked out of the hospital and went home, I did some research and I found another experimental therapy called, “PAXLOVID.” I called my insurance company and found that it was approved. Now, the ER refused to give me this pill therapy because they told me that it interfered with some of my medications, but never told me which medications. I called my quack’s office and told him to send a prescription for PAXLOVID to my mail order pharmacy. I was told by my quack that I had to take PAXLOVID at least 5 FIVE days after acquiring COVID and that I needed to get the prescription and immediately start taking it. Now remember, if I had received PAXLOVID when I was in the ER, I should have been right as rain in no time flat because it even states on numerous websites that in order for PAXLOVID to be effective, it must be taken within 3 THREE days of acquiring COVID and I was already on the 5th day when I requested the PAXLOVID. Once I received the PAXLOVID, I researched that and found that PAXLOVID is just as experimental as that bullshit “infusion therapy” and I refuse to take that.

 

 

 

Paxlovid is another ‘experimental’ drug that is being dished out by the ‘death squad’ otherwise known as doctors. I refused to take this after doing my research.

In my opinion, this is another ‘killer’. This is why your loved ones died. It was because their bodies were not allowed to fight off COVID, but were subjected to this poison shit that further DESTROYED their immune systems. Folks, something horrific, debased, disgusting, vile, vicious and lethal is going on. Don’t just let the death squads hand you anything and tell you that it is for your benefit. Take vitamin D, C and whatever else you want to take in the vitamin family. Stop eating meat and sweets and give your body’s immune system, a chance. It will show you just what it can do to fight this shit!

More Paxlovid bullshit!

And guess who makes Paxlovid? PFIZER!!!!!!!

PFIZER!!! Also, PAXLOVID costs a WHOPPING FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS A BOX AND IS EXPERIMENTAL. QUITE AN EXPENSIVE DRUG TO BE EXPERIMENTAL AND NOTHING MUCH IS KNOWN ABOUT IT, BUT TAKE IT FOR COVID AND YA GOOD!! I DON’T FUCKING THINK SO!!!

Folks, what I did to help my body fight COVID was to rest, walk around for a few hours to keep the lungs clear and working, drank plenty of water, took the antibiotic Azithromycin for 5 days, 500 mg pills for the strep throat, took, vitamin D, vitamin C and I am feeling much better. I will admit, COVID will kick your ass. It is an all and out attack on your immune system, but the worst thing I had was the sore throat from strep and a cough that was in my throat. The cough is almost gone and I’m almost back to my usual. But I cannot stress enough to do YOUR HOMEWORK. Don’t merely assume that the death squads have your best interests at heart because as you can see, I did NOT need “INFUSION THERAPY” which is experimental and they don’t know shit about it or so they claim. I also did NOT NEED PAXLOVID WHICH IS JUST AS EXPERIMENTAL AND THEY ALSO DON’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT THAT OR SO THEY CLAIM. Even though Fauci says he’s got COVID despite 4 vaccines including BOOSTERS and now he’s stating that he is on the EXPERIMENTAL DRUG PAXLOVID which I refused to take.

I am not saying that what worked for me will work for everyone, but I would try ANYTHING holistic or at the very least try vitamins, rest, fluids as in plenty of water before I would EVER listen to those quack shits that are all about putting more toxic poisons into your body that is equipped with the ability to fight off shit!! Let your body do its thing!!! PLEASE DO YOUR RESEARCH BEFORE YOU LET THOSE DEATH SQUADS INFUSE YOU WITH ANYTHING OR GET YOU TO TAKE EXPERIMENTAL SHIT THAT THEY DON’T EVEN KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT.

And lastly, my death squad quack had the audacity to prescribe for me a cough medication that NUMBS THE LUNGS AND YOU CAN’T FEEL YOUR CHEST. How the hell do you give a COVID patient a medication that NUMBS THE LUNGS AND YOU CAN’T FEEL YOUR CHEST WHEN WE NEED TO KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH OUR LUNGS???? This is what I mean. This is the shit I’m talking about!!!! Look up this medication: BENZONATATE 200MG X THREE DAILY.

 

This is the shit my racist quack prescribed for me. I cut the top off because of my address displayed as well as the prescription number. Benzonatate NUMBS THE LUNGS! No COVID patient should be given a medication that numbs the lungs and you can’t feel your chest. These death squad dogs are the reasons why your loved ones are dead. I did NOT take this bullshit, I absolutely refused!!! Again, do YOUR OWN RESEARCH! Don’t just listen to the death squads frontin’ as doctors.

What is benzonatate?

Benzonatate is a non-narcotic cough medicine.

Benzonatate works by numbing the throat and lungs, making the cough reflex less active.

Benzonatate is used to relieve coughing.

 

And here is another website that explains how benzonatate works just in case you don’t believe the first one.

What is benzonatate (Tessalon)?

How benzonatate (Tessalon) works

Benzonatate (Tessalon) is an antitussive. It works by numbing certain nerves in the lungs and airways, lessening the urge to cough.

What is benzonatate (Tessalon) used for?

• Cough

Benzonatate (Tessalon) dosage forms

capsule

100mg150mg200mg

SERIOUSLY???????!!!!!!!! Folks, be careful out there! These filthy, vile, sadistic lethal fuckers called DOCTORS are not fucking playing with us and what’s more, they are doing this shit to us with the full blessings of the UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT! Beware!!!!!

Below are the Lynchburg General Hospital Emergency Room doctors who wanted me to go to Virginia Baptist Hospital the next day to receive that killer bullshit “infusion therapy.” Stay clear of these fools because I honestly believe, AGAIN, that I would be dead if I had submitted to that “infusion therapy” that is brand new, not widely available for use and no one knows anything about it including doctors, scientists government officials; the whole nine yards.

Circled are the doctors that were at me about getting “infusion therapy.” They don’t even know anything about that mess, but just expected me to mosey on over to Virginia Baptist Hospital and get “infused.” And one fact about Virginia Baptist Hospital, back in the day, Black people were barred from entering the doors of Virginia Baptist Hospital. We were too BLACK! But I guess, some of us got insurance now. No, what it is is the fact that Virginia Baptist Hospital is still experimenting on us with that neo-Nazi shit going on over there. And if anyone from Virginia Baptist Hospital wants to come up in here and crap an attitude over this, I’ll refresh your memory as to what happened to me at Virginia Baptist Hospital in September of 2016. You really wanna go there? I didn’t think so!

Again people, beware!

 

Another Wake Up Call About “Thanksgiving” Brought To You From The Archives When Obama’s Lame Ass Was Still President

 

What I Am Thankful For On this Day, Thanksgiving Day!

 

 

I really had no thought of writing anything on Thanksgiving Day because several of my dear blogger friends took the time to post some wonderful Thanksgiving Day blog posts. And I have already re-blogged them to my heart’s content. But I just want to take this opportunity, and this is off the top of my head, to let them know how appreciative I am to know that there are some people who truly think for themselves. It does my heart good to know that there are some who will not simply conform to the dictates of a fucked up society, but who will indulge themselves in a bit of critical thinking. Try it sometime! It does my heart good to know that there are others like me who refuse to ‘like’ all up and down on some lies that are told to us about Thanksgiving Day and because we are too damn lazy, we refuse to do our own research and dig for the truth even if we have to dig underneath a pile of outrageous lies to find it.

We had a Black-assed president, who to this very day, is hell bent on preaching the vile ass lies about how some pilgrims came to this continent and loved all up and down on the Indians and he even compared the ‘pilgrims’ to the Syrian refugees. This vicious, chronic, habitual liar had the goddamn nerve to call a band of genocidal, homicidal maniacs, “refugees!” My tongue would have twisted so goddamn bad trying to get that lie out, that it would have eventually twisted itself loose and escaped from my lying ass mouth! We are still sitting somewhere swallowing the lies of warmongers and war hawks who are just as bad as the depraved and vile shits that fucked up the Indians and then commenced to hunting down innocent people in Africa and dragged them here to become slaves. These so-called ‘pilgrims’, who were actually colonizers, were not the salt of the earth; they should have been banned from the earth, as barbaric and brutal as they were and their progeny are still at it to this very day.

Kill! Kill! Kill! How can that ever be defined as benevolent, caring, compassionate, concerned and humanitarian? How can breeding and then killing millions of birds for Thanksgiving Day dinner tables ever be considered, humanitarian? How can consuming that which had a beating heart ever be considered, humanitarian? But that right there tells me something. It tells me that we so-called ‘humans’ have never been synonymous with ‘humanitarian’ for how could we be? We send our own offspring to die in wars started by depraved rejects from hell and we don’t have a problem with that. We know that the ‘animals’ that we consume on a daily basis have stood in piles of filth, stood in their own shit inside a hell and then were butchered as though they were never living tissue with eyes, brains, legs, a stomach; the same organs that we possess. Is it any wonder that the ‘human’ race is destroying itself? No, it is not! Because when we can destroy that which has never done us any harm simply because we want a steak; when we can destroy that which would leap gracefully away from us in fright and terror, we are not ‘human’. We shoot deer for sport. We consider this to be ‘hunting’. What a brave soul we are to ‘hunt’ down something that cannot defend itself against cowardly bastards with hunting rifles. You are not some great game hunter and yet you strut around with your trophies as though you have done something to be proud of. You’re nothing but a coward! You’re not fit to stand there looking all prideful beside the body of a dead lion or a dead deer or whatever else you think it your right to hunt down and kill because you are a depraved piece of filth! A cockroach stands heads and shoulders above your worthless ass!

Now, I am speaking to the hypocritical motherfuckers that went on and on about that big game hunter that went out and shot and killed Cecil, the lion. Why are YOU sitting down to a turkey dinner? Your hypocrisy petticoat is showing. I certainly did call it right when I called you all ‘hypocrites in my post, Trophy World because, indeed, that is what you are. How are you any different from the piece of dead shit that killed your beloved Cecil, the lion? Oh, that’s right! You did not actually kill that big, stuffed dead bird that you just carved into. So that makes it alright, doesn’t it. No, it does not! You were complicit in that bird’s death just as if you had killed it yourself because you were silent as the grave you are headed for because you stood by when you knew that millions of turkeys would lose their lives just so that you could display your hypocrisy and fake ass devotion to family and tradition. The next time a motherfucker kills Cecil, the lion’s brother’s brother, shut the fuck up! And don’t put that goddamn shit up for me to read because I fucking don’t appreciate reading about hypocrisy, ignorance and fake ass outrage! Save it! Because you have no cause to feel justified in your fake ass outrage over Cecil, the lion’s death while you sit there and unzip your pants because of your expanding stomach thanks to gorging yourself on a dead turkey! And then head to the doctor so that he can give you another pill because of all your weight-related health issues and then cry me a river!

And this brings me to something else. Our instinct for killing is not just for the so-called ‘animals’. We turn against other so-called ‘humans’ and we hunt and kill them for sport. We self-righteously tell ourselves that because this person’s skin tone is darker than ours, he or she does not deserve to live. They are not ‘human’. They will become just another trophy; another notch on this gun. Oh, this killing thing is sweet. It is so sweet that we can still sit up in church on a Sunday morning and bow our heads and pray about how good, benevolent and kind we are because we just put $100 into the collection plate and we wrote a $50 check out to Goodwill. See? We’re so good and thoughtful. Let us pat ourselves on our goddamn saintly ass back. That’s ‘humanitarian’. Again! No, it is not. That is hypocrisy. You’re a goddamn hypocrite and you are deceiving yourself into believing that you are good and decent when you are just flat out, dead filth. You don’t have a heart and you sure as hell don’t have that soul that your preacher or reverend is going on and on about. You are not going to some heavenly reward for being a humanitarian do-gooder. You are going to get planted and that’s it. Kid yourself all you want, but this is it. Do you honestly think that there is going to be some ‘god’ that is going to grant you the right to murder with impunity in some paradise beyond the stars? Do you honestly think that your filthy ass is going to enjoy the riches in some heavenly mansion? Yeah! Bow your stupid head and continue to pretend that you are the next best thing to a saint. You are nothing but a lying, hypocritical piece of nothing. I don’t care what your net worth is; you are worthless. I don’t care how much perfume you spray on or how much cologne you use, it will never conceal the stench of death because that is what you are; dead. And your ass is not in purgatory; that would be too good for the likes of you. This is it. You’re either a decent ‘human’ because you have got a heart or you are ‘dead’ and most of you are dead and you are the very ones who are posting “Happy Thanksgiving” posts back and forth to each other. You are the very ones that are gathering with the other thankful ‘dead’ pretending and postulating for the benefit of who? Because you have already proven that you are dead. Why else would you just go with the flow? You know what this day called, “Thanksgiving” is all about, but because you have no heart, you go on pretending that it is all about displaying fake ass love with family members you secretly hate and wish were dead so that you can swoop in and scoop up whatever trinkets and baubles and insurance benefits they may have left behind.

So yes, I am thankful because I am not sitting down at a table with a big stuffed dead bird on it; complete with all the trimmings. I am thankful because I am not gorging myself on the remains of a carcass of what used to be a living, breathing, beautiful bird. I am thankful that I am not sitting around the table with people that I detest and loathe all the while pretending that I am pleased to be with them. I am thankful that I am not a hypocrite; who after having prayed for 30 seconds, gorged myself on a dead bird, then immediately headed out the door to get a head start on my capitalism fix. I am thankful that I think for myself and have never felt the need to conform to the dictates of a fucked up society filled with the walking dead(and no, it’s not just a TV show). I am thankful that I can say that I am indeed, human and alive!

And no, I do not wish you a “Happy Thanksgiving” because I know what this day stands for and I have never stood for genocide, theft, lies, slavery, torture, rape, hunting, hypocrisy, corruption, brutality, barbarity, murder and war and I certainly don’t stand for ignorance. And if you are celebrating this day, you are too ignorant for words! And if you have a problem with this, bite me!

A Letter To My Mother On Her 77th Birthday! Happy Birthday Mother

 

Happy Birthday Mother!

Yes, you brought me into this world;
a squalling little Black baby girl.
You belittled everything I ever did
and you beat me for nothing when I was a kid.

You want me to honor, love and respect you
when what I did was from you, take my cue.
I have never known what love is and I never will.
Not one tear for love will my eyes ever spill.

I’ve been called cold, callous and cruel,
but never have I been called, “love’s favorite fool.”
I know that this should be all about your day,
and it is in its own strange and morbid way.

There is just something that needs saying
because in this town where you live, I’m not staying.
I have come running every time you’ve ever called
and listened to each admonishment on my character, you’ve drawled.

That stops here and now because I don’t need you anymore.
I never really did but I’ve just got to settle the score.
When you talked about me to your acquaintances, that hurt.
But knowing what you are mother, I’m an expert.

I’ve watched you down through the years
send people packing with words sharper than shears.
I’ve listened to you drone on about how great you are
when you are too evil and wicked for hell by far.

You’ve got foul names for everyone you ever meet.
The language you use, the derogatory names, you bleat
to anyone who will come within your reach.
You sit on your ass and search for an invective to screech.

Then you have the nerve to wonder why you sit home alone
and that to this very day, there’s nothing for you to atone.
But your day is coming mother. It may not be here yet,
but then again, you may already be paying your debt.

Your favorite one of us died from drugs years ago
and the man you couldn’t leave hated your ass from the get-go.
Even his friends said he died to get away from you
and this I can believe because I’d do the same thing too.

So sit in your big falling down house and think,
think of all the reasons why you should take to drink.
Believe that you are good and that all others are at fault
And you’ll still deny your evilness when they lower you in that vault.

And lower you they will mother, for we must all go that route.
But don’t you think for one second that your ‘goodness’, I will tout.
You are evil personified and though I may drop dead first,
at least I’ll have the pleasure of knowing that your ass is accursed.

You will lie beside a man who hated you to the end.
Your youngest died years ago and she was a dope fiend.
And yet you blame us for problems we never placed at your door
even though you share the blame because we are what you bore!

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2019 Shelby I. Courtland

I am going to attempt to find the words to convey just what emotions you evoke in me mother; hate, disgust, loathing and yes…pity, for you are so despicable, nasty and hateful that no one wants to come around you and I actually pity you. I spent so many years trying to gain affection from you that was never yours to give because you hate yourself. You loathe yourself for why else would you stay with a man who, when you were pregnant with me, your first baby, threw you a quarter when you told him you were hungry and he said, upon throwing you a quarter, “Here, I wouldn’t want to see a dog hungry.” And yet you thought so little of yourself that not only did you continue to lie with that slug, you brought two more children into this world to be condemned to live with two people who hated each other. We learned to hate as well.

I used to think that the house we lived in was haunted because all of a sudden, everyone inside it would go the fuck off and get to cussing each other out for no apparent reason. I watched on so many occasions, that sperm donor we were supposed to call, “Dad,” come in and beat your ass! Every weekend it was, wasn’t it mother? And what did you do? Why you went to the police station, pressed charges and three days later, your husband…our father was back inside the house. And it was going to be just a matter of time before it happened again and again and again. And yet, you expected us to grow into healthy, mentally strong adults when we had no guidance whatsoever from the likes of you and our sperm donor dad. I sit somewhere posting poems for a sister who you showered with whatever your brand of ‘affection’ can be called simply because she was lighter than myself and my other sister. I remember you making us go to bed when the sun was still out in the summer just because dad hadn’t come home from work and you knew where he was. Like that was our fault. You would get us up in the middle of the night and take us to illegal ‘nip’ joints that sold bootleg liquor just because you saw dad’s car parked there. Small children we were and in our nightclothes and yet you told us to “Go in and find your daddy!” You knew what would happen when we did because any attention from him was better than no attention from him. You were mentally ill then and you still are. We just didn’t know it. We longed for you to leave. We’d have been better off if you had. But no, you had to continue to tell anyone who would listen just how put upon you were, just how long suffering you were. Oh, the pity parties you threw. How I hate you! And though so many of your ‘acquaintances’ have dropped dead, there you still sit, in your misery and hatefulness and spitefulness, you manipulative control freak. The saying is, “You can’t kill the devil!” And ‘they’ must be right because you’re still sitting above ground. The devil doesn’t even want your foul ass and no wonder!

Well mother, I could continue in this vein, but you know what you’ve done. I needn’t display ALL of what you think are your dirty little secrets. But newsflash mother! No one has ever bought that bullshit! No one! So save it! That is why no one comes around you anymore because they don’t want to hear you laud yourself to all and sundry when everyone knows what a miserable piece of shit you really are. Deal with what you are and come to terms with it. The rest of us have. And so with that having been said, “Go to hell mother!” oh and, “Happy Birthday!”

Through Red And Angry Eyes!

 

When I first started blogging,
I was gentle as a lamb.
But today, my rants and ravings
couldn’t compete in a poetry slam.

Oh I come out smoking hot,
full of rage and indignation
at a society of clueless cretins
who compound my own frustration.

When I said my pen was drained,
just a few short years ago,
I should have thrown in the towel,
but what kept me going was my ego.

I was such an attention seeker
who was so pleased with what I wrote,
I quite forgot to temper my anger
and on my own bile, I almost choke.

I’ve written many a poem
and what I once thought of as prose,
but now I foam at the mouth
and no poem, can I compose.

Through red and angry eyes,
I view the world with a vengeful gaze.
I no longer believe in humanity
or think there is hope for better days.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2018 Shelby I. Courtland

I remember when I first started blogging, I was inspired and had not yet been tainted by all of the things that have now made me rage and lash out at the world. I am filled with such a white hot blazing anger that some times, I quite fear that I shall go mad. I used to pen poems about the homeless and oh how sincere I was. That is why I titled this blog, “Bringing Social Issues To The Forefront,” because I wanted to highlight the societal ills that affected so many people. I wanted to try and shed a spotlight on those who are forgotten, overlooked and ignored. I wanted to shed a light on human suffering, but by doing so, I suffered for it. Those of us who are truly caring, apparently, can only take but so much before it starts tearing away at our very soul. I am becoming something I once abhorred; a cold, callous, hateful and vengeful person who has lost her way.

I cannot find in me the poetry that once used to flow so freely from my mind to my fingers. And that is why I don’t post poems anymore. I just don’t have them in me; not the ones that I look back on and read and I can tell that I put deep feeling into them; they are me. What I write now is what I have turned into.

There have been so many people that I have fallen out with who I used to hold in high esteem, but because of what I allowed in, I’ve cussed people out, called them out and have hurt people and that was never who I was, but that is who I am now. We are letting the evil that is in the very air we breathe into our bodies and that evil is building in strength and we are hating each other because we have allowed others to feed us their hate, their callousness, their disregard for human life, their greed, their selfishness and their depravity and we have, some of us that is, swallowed it down and brought it back up. We are consumed with hatred for each other like I’ve never seen before and I am quite guilty of this. Most days I am livid from the time I wake up until the time I close my eyes in sleep and I carry this around with me every single day. I do not like what I have become and if I continue to feed the flames of hatefulness that has consumed so many, I can no longer take the high road. I must admit that I am just like them.

And lastly, I did not even heed the words of my own poem, “Yield Not To Temptation!”

The Day Before My Birthday!

The day before my birthday
is a melancholy one.
I sit here contemplating
what I should do for fun.

Would a trip to New York
be just the thing for me?
 Or should I relax in the tub
and go on a shopping spree?

As I reflect on my life,
I wonder what would I miss
if I never saw another day?
 Would I still live like this?

Did I ever touch one single heart
or let someone know I cared?
Was I always just too shallow
since love, I never shared?

What a loveless life I’ve lived.
With no thought for those I hurt.
I just pack and move elsewhere
like some twenty year old flirt.

It’s always been about me.
I’ve never lived for another.
This aimless life, I choose
when faced with love, I burn rubber.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2016 Shelby I. Courtland

I don’t know where this came from, I really don’t except for the fact that I always get a little maudlin around my birthday because of the fact that I’m on the ‘wrong’ side of 25 and each year causes me to reflect a little bit deeper and this year, I’ve gone even deeper.

I remember when I was a child, I could not wait for my birthday because we were treated like a princess for the day; a big birthday party with so many friends over and lots and lots of gifts and all my favorite foods including my favorite cake. And now, it’s like, WOAH! What the hell??!! It’s like before I can blink twice, it’s my birthday again and all the gifts and hoopla still don’t make up for the fact that I’m getting older and older and feeling it. Oh well. I’ll get over it. I just wondered if anyone else over 25 experiences anything similar or do you just take it all in stride. I hope not too many are like me who cannot dwell in the present, but must forever look back on the past and compare it to today, most unfavorably.

Baltimore Or Bust!

 

To all my loyal readers, I want to thank you for coming to this blog and also I want to thank you for your support in encouraging me to continue to spit out the truth. But there comes a time when I must do more than spit out truth, I must roll my sleeves up and do what I can.

At one point, I thought that I wanted to pack up shop and head to a deserted island and lick my wounds, and quite actually, the wounds are real as a result of a horrific car crash, but nevertheless, I decided after finding out that the places I had chosen to look at were just as Americanized as America, why, I’ve decided to go back to a city that has long held a special place in my heart, Baltimore, MD.

So, in a few days time, I will be driving to Baltimore with a trailer hitched to the back of my vehicle and off to new adventures I go. I have been feeling stifled here in the Midwest and quite frankly, these people never grow on you, they’re just too bland and vanilla. I love fire and excitement and danger and gaiety, Black folks, good cooking like collard greens, yams and silver queen corn. I love to sit by the harbor and sip wine and reflect on how great it is to be alive and I can do none of that here in the Midwest because all I can reflect on is how miserable I am here. What the hell was I thinking in coming here in the first place? Oh well, tis too late to wonder about that especially seeing as how I am about to rectify that by moving back to the East Coast.

I have long been contemplating a move back to Baltimore and for those of you who have followed this blog for the past year or so, you know I have penned poems about how Baltimore charmed me. I am not just going back in an attempt to take up where I left off as that would be a foolish dream, I am well aware that things do not remain the same. However, the same crime and grime and prostitution, poverty, homelessness and the like exists and since I have a bit of means now, I intend to roll up my sleeves once again, and attempt to become part of the solution as opposed to part of the problem.

What that means for my blogging? Well now, it is going to be a while before I will be able to post anything here and so I just wanted you to know that when I stop posting my vitriolic rants and raves, kick-ass poems that’s got me winning awards(Thank you AGAIN Nidotopianwarrior), it is because I will be caught up in all things, Baltimore. Now, some people have told me, recently, that I am the biggest fool there is for heading to a city where many are trying to leave and I have said to them, “If there were more people like me trying to help instead of just ignoring the problems, maybe Baltimore would become a city that shines by day as well as by night.” And there is something about that city, despite its many ails and issues, that will not let me be. Baltimore is a drug; it is heady as champagne for me. I’ll not stop drinking champagne and now, I must heed Baltimore’s call. That is the first city that I ever stepped foot in that literally pulled me in and folks, I gotta tellya, I started running away from home at the age of 15 and I was headed for Las Vegas then. GEEZUS, the stories I could tell. KKKops chasing me from city to city with teletypes following me and yet, I never was caught. “Up yours, mother!” KKKops just ain’t that smart when a 15-year old girl can walk right off a Greyhound bus, stare them in the face and request her luggage from the attendant and sashay into the bus terminal. Nope, KKKops just ain’t that bright at all! “Up yours too, KKKops!”

But as usual, I digress! The story of my life, eh? Anyhoo, I will be staying in a nice hotel down by the harbor while my new place is being readied for me. My furniture will be following me down since I never can plan anything, I am just a spur-of-the-moment type girl and that is how it has always been with me. The only place I have ever stayed  at for any length of time is Baltimore and I think the reason being is that Baltimore is just so close to everything. In a few hours, I was in Philadelphia, then in Atlantic City and could skip over to New York. Although, I’ve only passed through New York and never stopped long enough to do anything, but I hope to change all of that.

So, folks, as you can see, I am going to be extremely busy in the for seeable future and this is the only chance I am going to have to let you in on what I will be up to in the coming months. I hope that you all don’t miss me too much! LOL! Yeah! I know. Who is going to miss my carrying on fits? Hell! I’ve just been sent a comment stating that I am just too much to take. Oh, well, we can’t all be boring! Someone’s got to be the life of the party and it may as well be me. Now, don’t bother correcting my bad grammar here as this is straight from the heart and has not been edited and proofread, so cut me some slack.

I do want you to know that once I have been back in Baltimore long enough for Baltimore to soothe my ache for that city, I shall make my presence known in here once more, but I have no idea when that will be. So, this blog shop will be closed until further notice. But for those of you who will miss me too much and will shed copious tears of distress over this, archive to your heart’s content and know that wherever I am, I will be stirring up some shit to no end. Hell! I may even make the news. It is certainly my intent. Even though I may not be posting here, you may actually see me in action. So, don’t be surprised because I do not intend to be the silent one when I get settled in Baltimore. Never that!

And to those of you who I hold in high esteem, much love to you! You know who you are! And as always, I appreciate you, one and all!

I Am The Proud Recipient Of One Of The Grand Nidotopian Afro-Power Awards

 

And I did not have to answer a lot of useless questions in order to be awarded this. I was awarded this because of the hard work that I put into this blog and quite frankly, that in and of itself, should be enough if someone wants to give me an award. There should be no strings attached because when bloggers like myself, post their own content including poetry and essays, we have already done the hard part. To expect us to answer a lot of dumb questions and start what basically amounts to a chain letter is just beyond the end of enough and quite frankly, I breathed a sigh of relief when fellow bloggers stopped nominating me for awards that I had to ‘earn’ above and beyond what I was doing that got me nominated in the first place.

So, keep your awards that come with strings attached. I appreciate being recognized and rewarded on the strength of what I do on a daily basis. I have no time to answer useless questions and then make up others. My work is original and that right there should speak for how much time and effort is put into it.

Nidotopianwarrior, you are the exception and not the rule because you presented to me this award without any strings attached and I cannot thank you enough. Because you recognized all the effort that is put into what bloggers like me, do. You understand that it takes a lot to put together poetry and pictures to accompany it and in addition to that, write my own essays and do research on them before I publish them, as well. Not to mention, that other things are going on at the same time.

And so, I want to take this opportunity to laud you for recognizing everything that must be done before the final product is published and again, for awarding me this coveted prize. I will treasure it always and I shall continue to strive to outdo myself and to continue to produce work of value and excellence and live up to your faith in me as the “fierce, the fearless and kickass queen of afro-centricity!”

Again, I am most honored and humbled! Thank you! I accept!