My Government Means to Kill Me

by Rasheed Newson

Affection never outlasted need. This was the first lesson the city taught me the hard way. The vast majority of us are merely pawns in someone else’s game. Don’t get defensive over this point. Embrace it. Once you do, you can begin to manipulate the board. Positioned correctly, pawns can checkmate kings.

I’d found the haven for my mind, body, and soul. Everyone needs such a place. Don’t reject the space you gravitate toward just because the windows aren’t stained glass and the congregation isn’t saved.

That’s what I craved—a guy willing to pursue me despite my hang-ups, my past, my mistakes, and my own misgivings about him. Of course, when my Hollywood desires became clear to me, I saw how ridiculous they were. What flesh-and-blood man was ever going to immediately recognize the inner beauty and value in me, then make the effort to machete his way through the thorny thickets of insecurities and defense mechanisms surrounding my heart? And if such a man somehow existed, how long was I supposed to wait until our paths crossed? The odds against it coming to fruition had to be astronomical, which made sense because the very notion I had concocted was a fairy tale.

This reminds me of Bell Hooks “cynicism is the great mask of the disappointed and betrayed heart”

Robber barons, political overlords, and other powerful devils can reign with impunity for decades, and the terror they inflict on those of us beneath them can feel eternal. Yet there is one stone that will slay them all: time. Devils grow old, and the world around them eventually exceeds their understanding and control. Never forget that. Never let them forget it.