Talk about sadness. Talk about finding out Power Rangers was dubbed and the Green Ranger was actually a martial artist. Talk about finding out what Dubs are, cementing your black card, and never finding wet cement to sign. I never leave a mark. I leave marks everywhere. Mark Twain offends me with his rampant use of slurs, though I appreciate the realism. “The Mysterious Stranger” is the only work I will never lose. I can’t even finish the book a second time because the premise freaks me, makes it hard to sleep. Talk about falling asleep only to realize thought may never end; your conscious is a treadmill plugged in and running. What’s the point of one more day if you have eternity in soul? Let’s talk.
Language Mixology Half brother of the same halves, simulacra is fancy for “absent.” Like banging means “good” or off the chain means “good.” The same way off the hook forgets the phone, I’m forgetting the space between Oregon and North Carolizzay, daylight savings time and the addition of the “-izzay.” So silly that suffix, verbed blackface for black folks. ----------------------------------- Halfrican Brothers Keep Trying To Out Do Me Halfrican brothers keep trying to out do me, Blending their jaw line blackface. “Does that make you feel more black?” I’d say yes, if I knew that “black” Wasn’t the absence of white, The refusal to speak the King’s English. I’m remembering that black points, Though hard to come by, make all the difference Between grape drink and some opposite, Pants on the ground and some opposite, For non black folks.
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