Suicide Note in Prose and Blood

More words from my partner, as we collectively wait with baited breath

Confessions of an Urban Shaman

I plan on dying on my feet. Ancestors bless if the paddyrollers catch me slipping, pull an AM Fred Hampton covert strike as I lay with bae and our littles.
Not that I am at all important to a régime fillled with egotistical sociopaths. With much mistrust I do side eye the quietly gleefull, sanitized middle class voters.

They have long proclaimed that p.c culture has made it shameful to be white. That you have to be so careful with what you say, that people can no longer have intelligent discussions. Truthfully, it was never about conversation. In my 40 years I’ve never had a random non POC approach me and attempt to engage in a frank discussion about politics, race, economics, or the goddamn weather. Muthafuckas have asked me for crack, weed, ho’s and cocaine….

What you really want is to continue a campaign of cultural appropriation, casual racism…

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