some things can change you, and some things can just reach down inside you and drag things to the surface that you know you're better off leaving down in the depths, only because helpless anger is not productive at all.

i had a good day, don't get me wrong.  i got up, said prayers, got dressed and went to the gym.  i got home and actually got done some things that were on my to-do list.  i got clothes gathered, got my bath, got groomed, got to a meeting, delivered soup to Lonnie, got to my parent's house, visit while i washed clothes.  i had dinner without foolish expenditures for the sake of just spending money.  there are things that i needed to do that didn't make the cut, but at least i tried.  still need to find paperwork about the payment to the lawyer.  either i misheard the time my dad needed to be at his meeting or he told me the wrong time, but he got there anyway.  i wrote, a little bit, and i got to see some friends at the meeting.  talked to R for a brief moment, and i'll call her again when i get done with this, before i go to sleep because i'm going to the gym in the morning.  got a dinner date with my cousin, make sure she's okay.  like i said, a good day, good enough.

but i'm reading this book that my counselor loaned me, and it's one of those things that if you're black and of a certain age, it is speaking about you.  it is speaking to you.  but it is not speaking of how not to be angry about these things.

i know white people aren't ever going to get it.  it's classic denial, but to an extreme and sociopathic level.  they would rather try to now say that slavery was just 'unpaid employment' rather than acknowledge their complicity in destroying two races of people upon the shores of this blood-soaked land.  and they are willing to believe in their non-responsibility the same as most people are willing to lie to their children about santa being real.  it's sad, it's enraging, and its tiring.  it makes the brain weary to try to encompass this level of truth, and the bullshit that it forces me to once again contemplate.  but it is there, i guess the point would be.  i wouldn't feel this level of emotion if nothing were there in the first place.  i'm going to finish it, and then i'm going to find that it's seeped into my writing and that's going to make me angry too.  but i can do nothing about the anger, because that would mean having to confront people who just don't give a fuck.  and i'm honestly too old for that now, i don't have energy to waste that way.  oh well.  i had lunch with Lonnie.  it was a good day, and i thank God for the blessing that it was.