P / P Prose: Going From Here


Oh, it has been a somber and sobering time. Disease is ravishing the lives of many and the stoicism of the white global class is facing a reckoning brought on by the catalyst of a brave martyr – who has succumbed to the brutality of Black reality as countless have before him.

We all know the recap. We all know what is to be conversed about, debated and potentially dismantled over the course of many moons.

I have concerned myself with much, but I have tried to move as carefully as possible. I have been doing my best to care for my health, I have been managing to keep up with deadlines and appear as refined as much as I deem appropriate.

I don’t have a lot on my mind right now.

I have much to do but all I can think about is how to move forward beyond this very minute.

Going from here.

Where I go is a consequence of my thoughts and decisions but in the micro moments I interplay between rest and a manageable pace.

My heart skips beats now. It’s never done that before. I can’t drink more than two cups of coffee a day because my body is on alert. I want it to be calm. I want to reassure my heart that it is safe. I don’t think it’s worried about love. I think it’s being attacked by those who don’t know what love and yet find it pertinent to demand attention that my heart doesn’t want to give. It’s being violated.

Such is life.

On the other hand, my heart is going out across the Universe. It’s working overtime. I’m going to eat more fruits and vegetables and exercise twice a day to nurse it, to feed it. It takes small, incremental fixes and patience, self love.

We’ll be fine. Going from here.


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