I’m Not Sure Honestly

I’m starting to wonder if I overthink things. For instance, I’m always super aware of my leg space when sitting next to others especially females. I just feel as if I should do my small part and not man spread. But it’s like am I the only one thinking about shit like that? Am I overreacting? Am I reaching ? I’m not sure honestly.

As a firm believer that we should all do our part I try to advocate as much as possible and make sure I practice what I preach. I find myself having mental debates about what I should give my energy to and what I shouldn’t. When it comes to women rights, lgbtq+ rights, black rights, brown rights, (insert other oppressed groups I fight for here), I’m just in it. All the way. I find myself naturally doing things to make a point. But at what point am I going to get fed up and just worry about myself? Or am I already coming focused on myself? I’m not sure honestly.

I’m still processing my motives. I’m still processing my actions. So far all I’ve come up with is…this is who I am and i will defend that until the end. We’ve lived in a realm of too many people being content with the way things are. I’m not content with being content when there are so many things to fix. Again I am constantly debating what I should give my energy to. Even when I contemplate my motives I realize that me worrying about myself is apart of fighting the fights I choose to fight. I’m not sure honestly but I feel as if I’m ok exactly where I’m at. Everything I’m doing is exactly what I should be doing. I’m not sure why I felt like writing about this but honestly…everything is okay. I’m not sure what I’m doing honestly ,but honestly…everything is okay…

-Beanz Out

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Beauty

Loving you is easy because you’re beautiful.

Daily affirmations and reminders that this too shall pass. Constant positive reinforcement, encouraging me to keep going…and going…and go…ing. The moment I feel like I’m ready to give up I return back to that affirmation…

Loving you is easy because you’re beautiful.

This struggle. This feeling. This desire to give up is shaping me for what is to come. I don’t know what this door leads to but I know I walk in love and loving me requires a humbling process where I am in the trenches. Blind. Cold. In a state of unknown but yet I can still feel my feet and legs moving. Feet don’t fail me now. I’ve come to far. Fuck it’s hard. But brighter days will come.

Loving you is easy.

Even in your ugly and lowest

You are beautiful.

This journey. This shift. This wavelength. Im here.

Beanz .

Mr.Darrius

Mr. Darrius not Mr. Newton.

Darrius is me.

Darrius is who I am in this realm right now.

There is no deeply rooted roots

deeply rooted underneath words

deeply rooted

beneath something else that is something I am not

because

I am darrius. Mr. Darrius

Thats who I am.

Thats who you first see when you look at me

Not Newton but Darrius and then Newton.

I am thankful for those who have come before me

I am honored to be a Newton

But

I am Darrius first. I am

Mr. Darrius

Anxiety

It’s 1:39AM and my mind is racing and I can’t get it to stop.

My anxiety has taken over and I feel some sort of high that I can’t come down off of.

Is this the end?

What if this is it?

All my hard work, does it end here? What am I doing ?

What am I to do next?

…questions that I can’t answer. Question I demand answers to.

God, ancestors, crystals, sage, moon, earth, stars….

help…me.

Is this the life for me?

Oh anxiety you’re a friend of mine that I try to keep away from. The friend that got me through undergrad. The friend that pushes me to move on and do better. The friend that’s not really a friend but we know one another so well.

Are you here ?

Is it showing?

Am I showing you off or hiding you well? What if they see me?

What if they don’t?

What expectations am I to live up to?

Who made these expectations ?

Fuck those expectations ! You don’t mean that. God but I want to…

I’m scared.

I’m scared …of myself mostly. Scared that I have set the bar too high and I can’t reach it…again I ask…is this it for me…

Doubt and anxiety work hand in hand and being an intellect doesn’t make it any easier. I know to much but remember, be humble. God dammit !! Can I just scream to the heavens that might exist in my nightmares of reality that I can’t fathom to endure. How am I to exist in this current state and I can’t even reach my own expectations and answer my own questions.

…what is this?

…what am I saying?

…what is happening?

…Anxiety …

hey bitch…you’re back again!

What is my truth ? What is my destiny? What answer am I to hold on to?

Why…am… I…this…way…?

I’m lost but I’m supposed to be okay with that right? Someone answer me. Is this a cry for help or simply me releasing the energy that can no longer live in this body. The energy that needs to be exhausted from this body so that this body can continue to walk in whatever peace it found in that moment…do I even make sense…

Anxiety…

you’re one hell of a bitch… that was so good

…Anxiety…

Let’s go another…round…

Angry Black Man

I’ve been hearing a lot lately about choosing battles and I realize how important that is. We must be mindful however that everyone’s decisions may be different in regards to what battles they choose. I have a lot to be mad about. I am adjusting, I am figuring things out but I’m also fucking mad. I’ve been running from the “angry black man” stigma that has been stamped on my back. It wasn’t until the other day that I said , fuck it. I’ll be the angry black man. I thought about Stokely Carmichael and Marcus Garvey and even Martin Luther King Jr. in some cases. All these men were stamped with the angry black man stigma and all they were trying to do is fight for equality for those who identify with them from the human aspect. They spoke, they marched, they fought. They forced uncomfortable conversations and ideas and they invoked change in America and all around the world. If that’s what being the angry black man is well, make me a fucking shirt because I have a lot to be mad about.

For too long people of color have been told how they need to rationalize their feelings. For too long we have adjusted our truth to make sure we don’t step on any fragile( read white ) toes. I am not in the business of comprising myself for the sake of someone else’s (read white ) feelings. I am also not in the business of congratulating white people (you read it right) for speaking out about their privilege and their racist acts. You are owning up to something we knew forever, what’s next sis? What does admitting your privilege actually do? What have you done besides have a conversation with your other white friends in your “safe spaces” about your twisted reality of privilege? When is the actual work going to start? That’s when I’ll give you the cookie you’ve been craving for the past two years because it only became cool two years ago to discuss privilege( thanks Donald). White people feel like they deserve a seat at the table for their small acts but no, that’s not how it works. There are CENTURIES of pain and tears that have been embedded into people of colors DNA and I cannot fault current white America for what their ancestors have done but don’t ridicule me for fleshing out my feelings and don’t tell me when or where it’s appropriate to have these discussions and what I definitely don’t care about is your white tears. Keep that energy when it’s time to confront racism, fascism, xenophobia, homophobia, prejudice, immigrants, clean water, ALL OF THAT! That same energy that makes you mad and uncomfortable, KEEP IT! Keep it when you are needed as an ally. Thats your job. That’s your part. We don’t need you to admit your wrongs anymore, we know your kind all to well.

Pick your battles they say. Fine. I’m picking to fight the battles my ancestors didn’t get a chance to fight. I’m picking the battles that my ancestors didn’t even know needed to be fought. I’m picking the battles that will benefit those who will come after me. I am angry. I am mad. But I am my ancestors wildest dreams. And I will fight, unapologetically. I just need you to move out my way.

-Beanz Out