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Life sends us down some strange roads on our way to our destiny.
Typically our stories aren’t the kind that can get you killed. Being Black and gay usually does a pretty good job of that,”
Wow
He said some Black people hate gay people more than they hate racists. He told me growing up Black and gay in a small town out in the country was like being trapped between a lion and an alligator. Rednecks on one side and homophobic Black folk on the other. He said the only way you don’t get fucked with growing up Black and gay was if you could do hair or lead a choir.
“Nobody ever knows the last time is gonna be the last time until it’s too late. You ain’t alone in that. That’s what makes living so damn terrible sometimes,”
“If I snuck in your house one night and slit your son’s throat, I guarantee the last thing you would be worrying about was if he was gay or not,” Ike said.
“I’ve learned to always be ready to be disappointed by white people. Doesn’t always happen, but when it does, it don’t shock me anymore. You ain’t the worst I’ve had to deal with,”
“It’s easier to keep your head in the sand than it is to try and see things from somebody else’s point of view. There’s a reason why they say ignorance is bliss,” Ike said.
When the people you love are gone, it’s the things they’ve touched that keep them alive in your mind. A picture, a shirt, a poem, a pair of baby shoes. They become anchors that help you keep their memory from drifting away.
