So many ideas come to mind this afternoon, and I couldn't help but to share my thought about freedom and responsibility. Being extremely new to this world of publishing, books and writers is a journey that I wouldn't trade, but I also need to share about some heartache. I don't know how the game of life should be played, but I do believe that I deserve a right to live as I choose. I suppose I'm recognizing the hurt that some people are carrying, especially African-Americans. Here we are in the midst of rapid technology, where information is shared freely and is available--yet, I can't help but to feel a bit violated.
I have read about so many writers and artists over the years, and to realize the close encounters of friendships that were actually encounters with another's insanity. I believe that there is something fundamentally wrong with people who do not know how to interact with other human beings. I've been sharing about being trafficked by my family to New York for negative reasons, but my intentions resulted in who I am today. Absolutely, I have strange encounters with people over the years, a few, but I fell into the habit of drifting away. There would be convenient meetings of people, and there was always an energy that surrounded interactions. I learned early how to walk away.
You are meeting a friend, and you know you don't carry yourself a certain type of way--but all of a sudden you're at the strip joint. You're going to the supermarket, and you run into an acquaintance that asks you to accompany them to the village, all of a sudden you're witnessing some type of lewd behavior. Now, I'm not judging anyone, but I see everything clearly now. For years, I'd just brush these incidents off and keep it moving, until it dawned on me in 2013--something just isn't right.
I realize that I'm the least likely, or should I say that I wasn't the one who was picked for success--I couldn't allow their purpose for me to be my purpose. There were always opportunities for me to just be an irresponsible statistic, as was predicted by some of my family members that appeared uninterested in my interests. This is why my belief in responsibility in freedom is so important. I wanted to become a better human being whether I had company, or not. I'll never say that I never encountered embassments, hardships or other bizarre situations because they continually happened and I continually made a choice to walk away. These days I'm disappointed with the knowledge behind the curtains of life. I'm disappointed in those that were either to selfish to really get to know me, instead of sending unnecessary challenges that I'd ultimately have to deal with until they passed. These disrespectful actions make me question how serious do they take their freedom? So many people like to scream out "Reparations," "Vote," and rhetoric that sounds good along with demands of equality, however, I did not feel equal at all in my own community.
I do not feel that bond of a people who are, like myself, a third generation from slavery and the next generation after the Jim Crow South. I feel isolated, assaulted, disrespected and disregarded as a human being without implying any skin color, at all. Am I a victim of wealth confiscation, where I am not entitled to my rights as a citizen. Am I not entitled to the same benefits of every working citizen who is a male? I feel as though I have been thrown into a high tech lynching, where I am the only one who doesn't know about the reasons why.
In spite of being trafficked to New York for other means, I have maintained my responsibility for my freedom. The woman named Masani Gayle who gave me the name of James McCray and a number never maintained contact with me. I tried to keep in touch with her, but I was never the type to be very social in church. She once interacted with me briefly in 1988, and briefly after I published MAMA WAS DOWN WITH THE MOVEMENT. However, I always felt a sense of abandonment, as if I was a disappointment to her. As I look back on our last interactions, I feel a sadness. I tried to keep in touch with people, but it always felt like some strange type of joke. I'd feel a resentment, and I attributed it to people not giving me the opportunity to be Alicia, rather than whatever their plan for my life was to be.
These name games, and third party infiltrations have led to deaths and to my physical body being poisoned for death. It's a hurtful feeling to be hunted and for life to be tampered with by those close to you. The idea of grown men wanting to tamper with your body at a young age, and the obsession that can follow you throughout your adult years and the lustful anger that begins to rob you, as has been done to me. I looked to my community for safety, as a woman and did not find it. It appears that it became worse, as there is an attempt to cover up past crimes that have left myself and others seeking justice. Where is their responsibility for their freedom?
I want justice for myself and those who have been placed in the crossfire; notice I said placed because that's what these people do. They orchestrate hurtful situations because they have a need to get their way, and that's fine, but they are playing with lives and that's not fine. I believe in happiness and the pursuit of liberty, and this stalking and writing what you wanted for my life must stop.
I do not know why names like the "Jones" and the "Browns," which could also be representative of Brown University, or any of the other psychological nuances; but I do know that whatever this game is--it's leading up to a bona-fide 21st Century scandal. Why these individuals who have apparently arrived, would be interested in me without any interaction with me is beyond my understanding.
I'm approacheable, and eager to take on new adventures in spite of being poisoned over the years. I'd like to believe that God definitely has a purpose for me, and a place at life's table. Does this all go back to 2535 Locust Street? Where the Edmonds lived across the street; the Noels lived next door; Stedman visited Ted Elijah's husband directly across the street; and where I am connected to a wealth of individuals who I didn't interact with? I have no idea, but I do know that these coincidences can't all be coincidences and I'd like to participate in my life, at least the part where there's money.
I am excited about sharing and promoting SHADES OF RED, as well as my work that was stolen out of my car when I was contained, unwillingly for no reason, titled HEADGAMES. See, it's very strange this game they're playing--they like to mirror my writing back at me. I'm praying for them because I have to to stay as healthy as I can.
I'm responsible and accountable, and yes indeed--I definitely have earned my place at the table of life.
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