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esskay
Digital storyteller, Photographic narrator, Hogwarts alum. In real life, I write things. I speak fluent sarcasm. I'm unintentionally funny. My favorite thing is food. Guac is life. I'm a fountain of the most random information. I'm pretty, only because it's weird to call oneself beautiful. I'm weird in all the good ways. I live in the greatest city on Earth. I was Sasha before Beyonce was schizophrenic. My life is stranger than fiction. But please, don't take my word for it. My pen is mightier than my sword. Instagram
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Friday, May 1, 2015 || 9:09 PM
I have no idea of the details of the Freddie Gray situation and I have no intention of finding them out. The only thing I know is what I've gathered from social media and what I found out was enough to let me know that I didn't want to know any more. I am tired. Because really, this is just the same old story with a few varying details. And not even just in America but especially in Baltimore. I am so tired of this particular brand of injustice. Tired of seeing black people out in the streets protesting or rioting or looting or whatever it is they feel they need to do to express their grief over being treated as if their lives mean nothing. I'm tired of the arguments we have amongst ourselves, placing blame, more often than not where it doesn't belong. I'm tired of marching and chanting with no results, no change. But most of all, I'm tired of the endless list of names. Those people whose names and memory are often tainted to make a case for their murderer when they're no longer here to defend themselves. I can't remember them all, only a detail here or there. A man killed on his wedding day. Arizona and skittles and hoodies. A whisper: "I can't breathe." We've been drowning in this long list of names. Of course that false sense of security comes, the idea that maybe things are getting better, maybe we're making progress. And then they pull the rug out from under us. Another name is added to the list and we find ourselves drowning once more. "I can't breath."
So what's the point of learning these new details of the same story? Chances are, I already know how it ends. I'm over it. Because it's too much. Because I can't breath. Because I. Am. Tired.
Labels: anomaly, babble and rant, in real life |