I thought a lot about words today. Words can heal and bring life but also tear down and hurt. Words are merely sounds that we string together to create meaning. Babble that makes sense to the listener. If I create a new word, I merely put chaos into order. Words mean something to most people. Then to others they are empty and cavernous. My words are typed. My words come from my mind. I wonder about my words. Are they the kind that are helpful? Or are they empty? Do I decided to type my words everyday to feel a little less lonely? Words bring community and togetherness when someone can hear them. I guess my computer doesn’t count.
As I see those news reports and online videos, I cringe. Anger boils up inside of me. All I want to do is smash glass bottles and punch through walls. How dare those people treat young black women this way? How dare they use their power to abuse the system. I want to walk across the broken glass bottles till my feet are torn and bleeding. Brutalized, like how all those boys, men, women and girls have been treated. I want to walk through their clean, white, suburban houses with a baseball bat and smash down all their walls. The walls that confine their ways thought. The walls that do not see color. The walls of thought that keep racism alive. I want to take racism by the throat and dig my finger nails into their flesh. “You have no place here.” I whisper vehemently. Then, with a strong arm, I throw racism out. I banish them. I turn back around and see people trying to re-build their racist houses. They try to piece their logic back together with cynicism and pity. They struggle to re-build much of anything. I look at them in disgust for defending their racist homes. How dare you defend a abuser of power. How dare you dismiss pain and hurt. How dare you put back on your glasses of blindness. All I want to do is smash glass bottles and punch through walls but I find that it is exhausting and my eyes can hardly stay open. I fall fast asleep much to my demise.