Prompt: What it means to me to be black
I journaled earlier, and that’s an exclamation point on the sentence of “what it means to be black.” I do have sp*cial need*. D*velopmental dela*. This touches all aspects of my life. But I have an added paranoia. I will go dark for moment. For 5 minutes. For five minutes it will be 5am on the east coast. Pitch black. Darknes* depre*sion anxiet*. Scarlet letter. Letter A. Aut*sm. My ball and chain. The thing that can be a step up or a road block. Jamie Foxxx ain’t autisti*. LeBron, not autisti*. LeBron who, LeBron Williams?…My jokes are funny….Kanye West may be autisti*. Not only one of but THEE, highest idol I had. Harriet Tubman (I could make a poem called God and it would just be her name), MAGA (whenever I see these letters together I have to brush my teeth. I puke a tiny bit. Quarter teaspoon), slavery and the choices surrounding it. He didn’t physically hurt people, but emotionally, certainly he hurt people. My idols wore, wear, and undoubtedly will wear, Diamonds…and her less interesting younger sister, gold. Necklace. Go. Ring. Yes. Grill. Goddamn or darn or shoot. What about, tooth, decay? Cavities? What about, the heart in your chest-cavity? What makes for strong character? Hmm. Being Black in America, is it much different than being Black in Africa or the West Indies?
This prompt was written by Joshua Daniels. I enjoyed his raw take on this subject and the playful and intentional way of using punctuations throughout. If you enjoyed, be sure to like and comment. Keep a look out for his work in the future.
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