Chinless wonder
I wonder if the authors of the British empire truly knew what they were doing. They enslaved,, pillaged, raped their way through the world in order to make life easier for their children. Did they ever imagine that they were systematically breeding “Karen” a chinless, gluteless wonder who is self absorbed and is ready to throw hands at the slightest inconvenience, yet lives the most loose moral life possible? Treating people as dispensable? May God help us, these burgeoning chested, 0 glutes females who are built like men and are more angry than the men. This is worth raping my ancestors? You’re not even attracted to these women!! The men who are married to these women have a long-suffering look of resignation about them. Yet their grandfathers were fearless pioneers? Fought in the great wars? What shame. What degradation. These tattooed men and women, with nothing in their lives or hearts. You hear them screaming “I love my kids” as they scream at them. It’s the first time they’ve felt anything. There’s no depths of sadness so there’s no peaks of joy. Shame. I pity them. Keep drinking that Prosecco boo, your husband’s off to watch porn on the toilet whilst your fat ass wonders why he no longer wants sex with you… your too soft. In all the wrong places. You’ve been spoilt to the point you aren’t an adult. You’re a self pitying child who thinks the state is mummy. You fought for rights you couldn’t handle, the right to vote, the right to work, your life is distinctly average. And average would be fine if you were a good person and not such a bitch. Meanwhile the descendents of the oppressed live a vibrant life filled with joy and sorrow. A vibrancy you and your “live, laugh,love” self can only imagine. There’s a real daily threat of death that comes with being black. Sometimes it’s more acute than others, but it adds a richness to life, you appreciate everyday because you know if a gun ever goes off… it’s you it’s hitting. Or if a hospital is going to fail a patient… it’s your ass they’re failing. Or if a policeman has a bad day… then only God will help you, because your peers won’t. George Flloyd lay there for 9 minutes… people recorded but no one got the officer off the neck of someone’s son. Sometimes I thank God for being black. Especially a Creole. My ancestors suffered, they were the survivors, the fighters. So my genes are strong. I can do things you can’t. It’s not “black girl magic” it’s trauma sweetie. But honestly a little suffering is good for the soul, you Prosecco ridden, dyed hair, overweight, self hating and all of humanity hating crackheads are not what the authors of the British empire had in mind when they went sailing.
So my dudes, be careful of the law of unintended consequences… you have bred a plague on the earth… and it’s not even the patriarchy!
Grace and Courage
Annetta Mother Smith.