"Hey, Blackie!"

The pot calling the kettle black. Just what is so hilarious about this statement? Maybe the pot isn't black in color after all. It could be yellow, or white or green, for all that matter. It seems that this world is repleted with obnoxious self-centered people. They are the Mr and Ms Know-It-All, while we are the stupid dumb retards. Black, after all is still black. Who gives two hoots about Black is the new (insert your own fancy color)? No, not me, I don't care. The details, the fine prints, do we really scrutinize them?

In life (and maybe in death), when we are labeled; when we are ostracized; when we are, simply, stereotyped, do we have what it takes to make or break the bond? We have options. We can accept things the way it is, we can cry, or that we can make everyone stop and stare. Maybe it's all about determination....

Much as I have decided not to post up anything here for a while, my fingers decided to oppose my mind. I could not do anything. I swear, nothing but the truth.