If you're going to praise the black people, then praise the Latinos. Praise the Muslims, praise the Indians, the Natives, the Mexicans, the Asians, the Pacific Islanders, the Others, and praise the white people. Ignorance becomes perpetuated the moment one group is organized above all of the others.

*COUGH* DIVERSITY *COUGH*

Today in one of my classes, the topic of how culturally diverse my school is came up and of course the statements were so bogus that it's once again time for ranting with me! Woohoo.

Let's get one thing straight, my school is not diverse. It may be 40% black, 30% white, 20% Latina, and 10% other but the mentality is not diverse. Just because Bob, Billy, and Charlie all look different, that doesn't make them diverse. Why? Well because diversity in my eyes means different looks, different languages, different colors, different beliefs, the whole sha-bang. This will sound generalizing, but if 4 out of 5 black guys all wear hoodies and refer to each other as "niggas" then that's not diverse. That's monkey see, monkey do. What I'm saying is, almost everyone walks around in my school with the same mentality. The majority of the student body is consumed by social media, getting head, smoking blunts and following each other on instagram. The 10 Asians, and the two girls who wear hijabs don't make it any different.

And honestly this "we're so diverse" trend is getting extremely old. People everywhere are trying to blow up this lack of diversity as if it's equivalent to slavery or the oppression of women. Making the world diverse is as simple as hopscotch. You start with one square and you move around until your foot has touched every single box. It's the same with people. No matter how comfortable it may be to slump yourself with people who look the most like you, you cannot do that and expect to see fifty shades of the color wheel. Unfortunately, that's what people do. Everyone is always complaining because there's not enough black people on television or in the huge industries. Everyone wishes for a more diverse country yet all the white kids stick with the white kids and all the black kids stick with the black kids. The cookie is choosing to crumble.

I think I understand why that is though. I mean besides the fact that it's easier to go where you'll be accepted, it's sort of safer. I've been noticing the animosity that is brewing towards white people. Just today in the hallway, on my way to class, I saw this black guy snatch a rubix cube out of this white kid's hand and run away with it. The white kid chased him screaming for the guy to stop and give it back. He caught up with him by latching on to his backpack. Which is when this black teacher pulled them apart and the black guy got away with the cube. The white kid then had to be lectured about remaining calm, running in the hallway, and touching another student. Pissed. Me. Off.

Clearly, the meek little white boy wasn't going to hurt anybody. We ALL saw that. It was just disgusting, and yes I do think it had something to do with race because my school consists of a lot of power tripping bogus authority figures.

A few months ago, my mom who is white called in to the school to get me excused for the remainder of the day due to me being sick and the woman who was speaking to her over the phone kept interrupting her. (I was sitting in the office for the whole thing). Then she would bark at my mom yelling "speak!" after my mom respectfully asked her to let her get a sentence out. She ended up hanging up on her face and when her coworkers asked what happened she told them that she hung up because she wasn't going to let some white bitch talk to her like that. When my mom texted and told me what happened, I realized that I'd overheard the entire thing. So I got up, told the lady that it was my mom she was talking about, that my mom is very nice person, and that's she's not white but a cream color.

But anyway it's instances like that, that cause me to fear the way many black people are perpetuating ignorance and then feeding that bullshit to their children for dinner every night. And noting all of this perpetuated racism against whites through the generations makes me understand why the white kids stick with each other. Because they have become the target.

SONG FOR TODAY: Love is a Battlefield - Pat Benatar

"I mean, day to day, I’m fine. I’m not like, a walking nervous breakdown. Ideologically, I don’t know, I guess I’m pretty fucked up. Like, I don’t really know what to think. I can deal with it, I’m content, but I don’t know what to make of it. Because where all of my music comes from is a place that – obviously there’s ego and there’s being a bit of a show off – but it comes from quite a humble, self-aware, self-deprecating place; which is why all these teenagers love the ideas that are in the music and they flock the hotel. But I’m still quite neurotic, as everybody is. So, when you’re really, really objectified and you don’t have time off or time away from that and you’re on tour for two and half years, and every time you get up there’s constant reminders of your projected personality…

It’s like I’ve said before, it’s this disconnect between art and reality. Where does it stop? Where do you let shit hurt you? When does it stop becoming material to work with? Like, at one point, everything’s just material. “Oh, I’m a bad person” – I can write about it. “Oh, she broke my heart” – I can write about it. It’s all those things wrapped up, but then there’s also an element of – because you’re a person who’s not the biggest fan of yourself anyway – you start thinking, “well, get over yourself, what are you getting upset about? Everything’s fucking brilliant.”

-Matty Healy.

*POP* CULTURE

I love love loveeeee music, and I assume we all do to so, moving on. But my definition of music is very hard to find. Nowadays, electronic artists like Odesza or FLUME are what's keeping the music train alive- 'cause it's crumbling. I mean, you know something is wrong when Lil Jon's "Turn Down For What" is enjoyed by humans anywhere. Our sources of interest and entertainment have honestly gone to shit.

The most unfortunate part of it all is real artists get less and less of a chance to save the world with their songs because you either sell yourself to sell or don't sell nothin'. Pop culture has stolen the stage just to crap on the light of day; and we don't even see that. Kanye West told Beck Hansen who plays like 14 instruments that he knows nothing about music and needs to respect the artistry of Beyonce... who needs a room full of people to write and produce one song.

No disrespect intended but:

People should really check themselves.

 SONG FOR TODAY: New Soul - Yael Naim

All About That Bass

"Yeah, my momma she told me don't worry about your size. She says, boys they like a little more booty to hold at night. You know I  won't be no stick figure, silicone Barbie doll..." - Meghan Trainor


I'm going to attempt to say this as respectfully as I can.

I'm not a hateful person, I believe. But if there's one thing I could come closely to hating, it would be statements and ideas like that. No matter what the case is or has been, I have always discouraged the practice of putting one thing down, to make another appear better. In this case, or in this song, thinner people are being put down to make being a little chunky or being thicker look and sound good. 

It's a nice idea, it really is; trying to get society to accept more than the Sally "Eat-a-burger-b*tch" Daniels around here. BUT, you don't need to stir up animosity towards a separate group to do so. 

First of all most of the people who like to complain about their weight WISH to be thinner. Commonly it's a private thought that thicker people have; but listening to them speak, they're usually putting the size 4 walking past down just because of her waistline. I can't even begin to list the amount of times I've witnessed this act, so I'll leave it at the fact that I've seen it. 

And I mean, my name might as well be "skinny bitch" for the amount of times I've been called one.

All because my weight is approved by society. 

I know that I will never understand what it's like to be an extra-large. But don't hate me for that. And then on behalf of the skinny  bitches out there, I'd just like to formerly say, we can dislike our bodies too. I may be the only person who's encountered this, and if I am then I might shut up-but when I dare say something about my body that I don't like I always get the funny look. The person always looks at me as if I've grown two panthers out of my head. Then typically, I'm told to be quiet because I'm skinny or because anyone would love to have my body or something about looking like a model. And it's rarely flattering because I feel like since I can physically pass in this world (due to my "model figure") I should never complain.

I don't like this about myself and I can't stand that but "those size threes look great on you so shut up." It's irritating. It's very similar to the way some black people blame white people for their troubles.

Becoming Unbroken (P)

Here lies a girl

who feels hurt and alone.

Trapped in this world

she’s been dying all along.

She makes herself

how they want her to be;

‘Cause who she is

they’re not willing to see.

She changes herself

she covers her face

But still she feels

like she’s just a disgrace.

She wants to feel pretty

to think good of herself,

But they judge her and claim

they’re just trying to help.

She eats as much as 

as bad as she feels

She throws it all up

hoping it’s not real.

She cuts her wrist

she quickly quits

It makes her feel worthless

she’s bigger than this

Her mom puts her down

she gets slapped around

Life is a hell

town after town.

She wants to give up

ready for an end

She’s already broken

and disgustingly thin.

But still she keeps living

and tries to stand strong,

For she knows that

she does have someone.

Her teachers, her friends,

they've been there for her

Things are no longer

the way that they were.

So for all of you girls

Cutting and crying,

wake up and see

that there’s no room for dying

Self harm never helps

Or solves any problems,

It just leaves scars

that you won’t be proud of.

So talk to someone

Don’t let it go on

Be brave, be smart,

And please stay strong.

Things Fall Apart (P)

Sometimes the wind whips up the faintest of leaves from their engraved comfort that is the ground, and takes them for a ride.

It twirls and tickles their inconsistent innocence as if relocating and misplacing their homes isn’t enough.

And nine times out of ten, those leaves never return because things fall apart.

I feel that we must learn to pick the battles that we will never start if we ever intend to fail. Because to fail, is to bleed;

And to bleed, one must suffer;

And to suffer, one must cry;

Because to cry is to release our unevolved pride, which we display like the back of our aging hands shielding our faces as a mechanism of defense.

And in that motion, I think our souls weep louder than our eyes bleed gold, because we bare what our lungs can’t hold.

We are attached to what he did and what she said because they know what you are and that isn't enough.

And when that thought spreads itself into every corner and crevice of my veins, my arms fold numb.

My legs disintegrate as follicles of reality seep into the seams of my brain; because enough is the son of a gun that pulls the trigger and starts the beginning of no return. 

Things fall apart; they crumble, they shatter, and they fracture-unfurling into the crisp contaminated air.

And those things dance and linger stationed on our eyelids haunting our sights until they are acknowledged.

But we as people consisting of fear, agony, and more fear leap away from those things.

We run from what we don’t know because the unknown screams louder than a ghost in sight.

Things fall apart, and that is what I struggle to accept.

Because I’m tired of all the good going bad.

I’m tired of the orbs of mental exhaustion populating in my head.

I’m tired of not knowing if things are going to be okay.

And I’m tired of being tired.

I don’t like what I don’t know because there is a possibility of defeat.

And sometimes defeat means you’ll get hurt.

And when we’re hurt, we must forgive.

And since forgiveness means letting go of hope for a better pass and grabbing on to hope for a better future, then I will be okay.

And things will fall apart.

Corrupted (P)

Awakened,

 a while after dawn 

...and I am face to face

with my innocence.

For three-fourths of a second, 

I am just a spirit - enclosed 

in my assigned vessel 

ecstatic that I’m whole.

Then every day begins with similar routines:

Walk, Walk, Sit. 

Walk, Talk, Stop. 

Think, Go, Breathe. 

Talk, Sit, Walk, Repeat.

There is no time to focus.

I almost always land in the 

same ticking tapping time-bomb 

where I learn to think 

like a bee and live like a butterfly.  

Someone decided to call that bomb school; I call it corruption.

It can’t be right for a child to spend 

more time in a building than 

inside the world it’s supposedly growing up in.

Has it always been that we children 

should learn Shakespeare’s 

“A drum! A drum! Macbeth doth come.” 

before we learn what road we’re on? 

Or am I just insane.

“School” has become a social experiment; 

a reality TV show called “Survival of the Fittest”.

A cash house used by textbook 

diploma wearing figures who 

stuff the manufactured knowledge 

along with bias shaped perception

down our throats every day 

in the form of a school lunch. 

While they vacation and feed 

their fantasies paying away their 

chosen debt with our tax dollars 

oblivious to the diamonds on 

the sidelines swimming in the 

Kool-Aid because we can do 

nothing more than 

walk, walk, sit. 

Walk, talk, stop. 

Think, go, breathe. 

Talk, sit, walk, and repeat. 

Two Faced Mirror (P)

 Let what was mine, replace what was once yours

as your craving for what was his

creates what was theirs

only to land back

in the hands of mine

- as life is a very tricky being.

Scuttle away maintaining your mask of shame,

looking back once to

watch, wait, click, pull, shoot

then be gone.

While your bullet lands,

in a marching band

of blurred and tanned

grains of sand ripping in discomfort,

rest assured there’s a new task at hand.

You can defeat your dreams

substitute your sight

and tame your taste buds - but

life’s leaning lust of luck leaves at the end of the night.

So awake and join yourself on your side of the mirror

next to the other face you can no longer ignore

As that mask of shame disintegrates

and you watch and wait in discomfort

click, pull, and shoot the very

face you wear.

Because the mirror shines in any source of light.

Watching your faces from dawn ‘til night.

Influential Bliss (P)

Let it be set clear that our eyes are nothing more than our eyes;

as what is white isn't white if we can’t always be certain.

It isn't that the moon

doesn't always bloom in slices

every hour or so – that is true.

But perhaps our prickly perception

poisons half of the horizon?

Sometimes our insight is in sight for too long and

We begin bickering over the color of a coin.

BUT bookshelves don’t shelve books

in houses, cities, and towns so

that we can reek of penthouse pity,

unable to see past the glaring green.

We are not the dissectors of the universe.

Though it may be that ignorance

Is bliss as it is influential,

We are not stationed to live like

Competitors in heat.

It is not our journey to be successful

But to succeed our lesson.

We are to

Learn the lessons we write,

Improve with age,

And evolve with our souls.

Because red isn't red,

Yellow isn't yellow,

Green isn't as it seems,

And there was never a finish line.

Dark Matter

I saw a really interesting and well done play today called "White Guy on the Bus", which had to do with racism and how struggling black people view "the white man" as evil and careless. The ideas and topics brought up in the play were very intriguing, so of course I need to write about it. 

First of all, racism is bullshit; racism didn't make us, we made racism. And now the word is so embedded in our vocabulary that whenever we dislike what someone has to say we call them racist! What I find funny about the entire deal is, anyone group of people who dislike a comment referencing their ethnicity or nationality will make claims that they're enduring racial discrimination and that they aren't being considered as humans beings. But that same group could care less about who's discriminating against them-they just don't like being made to look bad. Let's take the black against white, white against black racism (or whatever we shall call it) as an example. Many black people have excuses as to why whites are evil. They claim white people can't understand what it's like to walk into a place and be stared down by security because of their skin color. Blacks say whites have it easier, and that they're hardships are nothing compared to what they endure as colored people. And I partially agree with some of those statements just because you can never completely understand what someone has gone through you go through it in their shoes. However, I doubt white people give a damn about those hardships when they're made to look like inhumane vultures. You know, I highly doubt white people are waking up every morning having a cup of tea saying,  "hmm, I wonder what that black girl from the supermarket is going through". I just don't think it's happening. Just like I don't think black people are waking up asking themselves what struggles white people might be facing. Because both groups could give a dime about the other groups' struggles.

It's very selfish, yet very true.

It's also ironic the way everyone likes to victimize themselves in such a chaotic manner when they're feelings are hurt; yet no one is thinking of the other side of the table. Poor people (and I do mean poor) who are living on welfare and dining on food stamps consistently complain about the rich getting richer and they play the poor me card. And then since those poor people can't provide for their children, people with more money are made to look evil and inconsiderate. But I wonder, does anyone ever think of how inconsiderate it is the way people come to the US and suck on it's resources like leeches and do nothing more for themselves? Honestly, I can list so many people who come to the US and intentionally reproduce because they know section 8 and food stamps will take care of it.

It takes inconsiderate to know inconsiderate.

It just beats me the way we choose to justify our negative actions. When in reality, we allow ourselves to stoop into these stereotypical, racial barriers. Black people want to see more blacks being praised for their contributions to the progression of this world. Well then more black people should get up and do more things to help move our world in a positive and light direction. Sitting down blaming the white man for your troubles will get you nowhere. Hispanics don't want to be associated with land work, Indians don't want to be associated with 7 Eleven, the list goes on ...yet so many people in those groups go to that 7 Eleven and apply for that job, or go to someone's house and mow their lawn.

Appear better to feel better because that is the way the cookie is baked. 

We expect social change and argue that racism should be exterminated, but unfortunately we don't understand that you can't kill a cockroach by yelling at someone else for bringing it in the house. You can't eliminate the animosity towards white people by yelling at them for their position in the hierarchy. You go through life doing the best you can, being the best you can, giving materialistically and emotionally until you've reached your lightest and highest potential. You leave the intense dark matter that we unfortunately absorb in the toilet along with the rest of your shit.

Influential Bliss

In English class we were given the option to write a poem answering the question, '"how much do we control our lives, choices, and actions?"  I didn't feel the need to write the usual one and a half pages, so I wrote a poem.

But that question got me thinking.

I believe we are a group of people who evolve in ways that are determined by the environments in which we are surrounded by. I know, that's not rocket science-but that factor alone contributes to when and how we grow. And if it is true that we evolve according to our surroundings then who has more control over our who we evolve to be? You or me as individuals? Or the people who consist of  where we are evolving?

That answer varies.

I use to believe that as an individual, I am completely in control of my own destiny. At least that's what I've always been told. But over the years I've drawn the conclusion that we can only be in control of so much.

To me, it's not entirely awful to have someone pulling my strings. I don't gag at the thought of someone telling me what my permissions are as long as I don't feel targeted or threatened. I don't see anything wrong with democracy, authority figures, or people who are permitted to tell others what they can and cannot due as long as it doesn't jeopardize our way of living and growing as people.

I guess what I'm saying is we are always in control of our lives. We can choose to flick off the switch, as well as change the light bulb. No matter what tasks we create to provide a sense of responsibility for others, we will always be the ones who can determine who enters our lives.

We are not the dissectors of the universe.

I don't think we were put on this planet to discover everything around us, because what will we do when there is nothing else to discover? I believe our purpose in being here, being alive, is simpler than that. I believe we are here to grow into fully evolved people who understand happiness, love, and sincerity, just as well as we understand failure, pain, and suffering.

And at that point we either fade away into a happy abyss or reproduce and pass that profitable knowledge down to someone else.