Drama

I'm actually so tired of it that I'm willing to write a few people off.

Got into a really good conversation on white guilt the other day. When minorities are racist against Caucasians and Caucasians shy away and just put up with it because they feel guilty for what their alleged ancestors may or may not have done to those of minorities, it only makes them ignorant and weak.

Know your history and ancestry folks.

MY ancestors didn't do anything to anyone else's.

On my mother's side, I am Scottish and Cherokee. My Scottish ancestors were enslaved and used by the British until they finally gained their own independence. My Cherokee ancestors had their land taken from them and were persecuted and killed by *gasp* white people...

On my dad's side, we have Scottish, German, and Dakota Sioux. Once again my Native American ancestors were taken horrible advantage of. My German grandmother fled Nazi Germany and came to the United States, where she married a Scottish immigrant who lived up north.

In conclusion...NONE of MY ancestors owned anybody but themselves. The few ancestors I had in the South before the American Civil War were so dirt poor that they rarely owned a mule, much less another human being.

White folks, know your heritage.

Aside from that, there is not a single soul alive today that suffered during the oppression of slaves during the 1860's...so chill out. I wasn't there, you weren't there, no one living now was there or had anything to do with it. So chill out.

That is all.

~W.V.~

Destined (Or Not)

I always had this nice little idea that my life would go somewhere, even if I didn't know where that place was, and that it would do so because it was supposed to, whether I tried to assist it or not...I'm not entirely sure how I feel about anything anymore.

I was madly in love once...and he slipped through my fingers like smoke...and now every good memory hurts to recall and every conversation ends in anger...we're so different. I thought I understood why it all happened though, because the Most High has someone else for me, someone better who can be what I need AND what I want...

And now I'm afraid that he too will fade away at a whim and leave me penniless, broken, defeated, and, most painfully, alone...

A huge part of me says I keep getting betrayed/distrusted/abandoned/screwed in life because I keep expecting someone to love me, someone to be responsible, someone to take care of me...and in only the most basic ways...the same part of me also prods, "If your mother couldn't love you and wouldn't care for you, how could anybody else?"

The stronger part in me, the hope, tells me that I don't expect too much, but maybe that I just need to do my best to prove that I am worth the effort...but that's what I've done so far and it is never, ever enough...

Maybe I am just...not meant for love...maybe my immense understanding of it prohibits me from it by some cryptic natural law...But why should I be allowed to taste it but never embrace it? He is not that cruel, He would never let me be hurt over and over and over and over again unless there was some relief on the way...unless there was a purpose to my pain...

I'm going to return to the bedroom now and ponder my life, and likely cry quite a bit...but it'll be worth it in the end if I can just figure out what I'm breathing for.