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[charles-bee-blog]

We will open the book, it’s pages are blank. We are going to put words in them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and this year, is the first chapter 🇨🇷 (at La Fortuna, Alajuela, Costa Rica) https://www.instagram.com/p/B7PgZ3RBMvK2NIR5H8bKYUFfDzeOLolkwPfWow0/?igshid=yoi2hrq4e3xj

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“Beware for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.”

-Mary Shelley

I feel like this quote is fitting to all of V’s books

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Escape

The time I spent in the internal world sculpted me; The time I ventured the streets, clutching on to that fire as if it was my only life line. Watching drugs penetrate the community and poison our people; running from the laws as if we were trying to escape hell. The detectives chasing after us, hunting us day after day like the devils hell hounds. Some may think that we live in one world; a world of peace, a world of freedom, a world where anything is possible. I agree with one aspect; we live in a world where anything is possible. In society we have certain norms we follow by that guide us through life.

Standards that appeared to be passed down from age to age. Customs, religions, race, and sexual orientation kind of varies the standards we appear to get. I feel as though we live in a world inside a world; I feel as though certain things that influence society doesn't influence the world that I have a place with. My internal world is underneath the external world. A reality where administration doesn't make a difference; an existence where good and bad stop to exist. A world where you have to survive or you will be killed. A society within a society. 

Growing up in the underworld sort of gives you a label. It gives you a label that is respected as well as neglected; Politics is a thing that doesn’t exist in my world; I’ve been living beneath the external world for some time now. During this time we as a people elected the first black president Barrack Obama,  I anticipated numerous changes; the initial step our race takes to discharging the mighty hold our oppressors had over us. Yet, amazingly nothing changed.

I drove down North Avenue running the natural stop signs I use to walk passed when I was a youngster. The well-known hints of helicopters and sirens continually going off as though they were morning timers. The progressions I saw where constructional; new houses, new retail establishments, new laws. Try not to misunderstand me; I appreciated when Obama was in office simply the way that he was African American and that an individual from our race held the most elevated position in our general public. 

All I'm stating is that the things that influenced the external world didn't exist in the internal world. Regardless I watched my loved ones endure, despite everything I viewed a few of my beloved companions who either were slaughtered or in jail. Despite everything I watched as the police who are here to "ensure and serve" annihilate and execute the area I experienced childhood in and in actuality the general population I grew up with. Such things like administration didn't make a difference where I was from in light of the fact that by the day's end in 25 years the main thing that is changed was the outside structure and not the internal structure.

Drugs seemed to be the way of life, my entire family had been hypnotize by addiction. But to us, it was a way of making money. I gripped the brick as I analyzed the lines on the side, reading each line according to the oz. It was 16 oz’s, the syrup sat in the bottle as we began to shake it up. If it didn't bubble it wasn't authentic and to our relief the bubbles surfaced. As I served the knock, I watched carefully as I poured the juice into the baby bottle watching as the purple substance began to rise. 

The ways of the internal may seem corrupt and villainous, but it’s our way of life. We only take what we are given, we our surrounded by drugs and addiction. We have limited opportunities to become successful, being from the internal world doesn't make you ignorant, being from the internal world teaches you life lessons. One knows that money rules the world, and the ones with the most money will live the easier life. Living in the internal world teaches us to change our situation even if the darkness is steering the way.

I started to consider myself and how far I have come, thinking about the occasions I bathed in darkness, the occasions when I was effectively infuriated. I strolled down the well-known road that is Belden, the natural house that we would dependably wander as well. We strolled through the metal doors , right away welcomed by the mutts. The two pit bulls kept running up to us and started to lick and sniff us, My awareness was on high alarm, it was as if I were a soldier in Iraq penetrating the enemies stronghold. 

Every vehicle that passed could be a conceivable foe, every vehicle that passed could be the last vehicle we may see. I grasped on the overwhelming metal that was underneath my sweat pants. My palms getting sweatier and sweatier as my finger laid on the trigger. It was as though we were one, the flame seemed to be attached to my hand. My cousin and I moved our head in unison head after every vehicle that drove passed. The reality wasn't that I was searching for inconvenience, the reality was I didn't need inconvenience to discover me, and on the off chance that it did I needed to be prepared for it. I am grateful for some of these situations because it taught me how to survive, even though we are poor we are resilient. How can you be a soldier? If you never been to war?

That day I started to acknowledge what I was going to be, I started to draw in pessimism, I started to be devoured by antagonism. My language started to transform, it turned out to be progressively unseemly, it turned out to be increasingly insensible. My inclination started to transform, I was constantly irate I generally thought somebody was out to get me, snapping at my companions not knowing whether they were clowning or testing my masculinity. Everything is a test in the internal world , it will either make you or break you.

The increasingly more I dove further and more profound in the murkiness it just influenced me to acknowledge where the light was. As I was tried I likewise tried others. In the internal world there is a pecking order that exist, a structure dependent on the deeds you submit. As I dove further, the structure started to separate; I am a man of pride, of fearlessness. The internal world compromise of defeatists, men who weren't men at all and as I understood that it opened my eyes to what truly matter. The internal world developed who I was, however it isn't my identity.

That is my whole point, despite being born in the internal world despite the freedom, despite the lessons learned, despite the blood lost I still want to escape. The world that I am from is a violent world, it’s a world where your family members are drug addicts, where you're best friends a murderers, where your parents are drug dealers. I come from a world where there is no light, only darkness. The urge to be free, to see more of the world is what showed me the light, my urge to not be like everyone else is what showed me the light. Don’t get me wrong darkness has tried to consume me, I have gotten caught up in the negativity that courses through my neighborhood. But only through experience have I realized it is meaningless. Gangs are supposed to portray loyalty, they are groups formed by individuals longing for a family. Some part of this aspect is correct, these groups are for people who are alone. For people who feel as if they have nothing this is a place where they feel as if they belong. 

In conclusion this is a message to all those who are trying to escape the grasp of their own internal world. Even though it may seem as though the grip may not ever loosen, stay positive despite the fact that they're our demons trying to alter our route to success. You may seem as though you are obligated to be a certain way because of where you from, but it's the exact opposite it’s where you are from that makes us obligated to succeed. Being from the internal world, being able to witness and to live through the darkness is what makes us who we are. 

Being able to make that journey towards the light, being able to rise from beneath the grave despite the fact that the grim reaper himself was pulling you down. The certain ways we live in the internal world may seem violent and ignorant, it may seem ignorant or villainous. But you have to understand these are the norms we live by, these are the ways we choice to survive. Despite all the things we face, the transition we take from darkness to light is the thing; this two world divider, it destroys the society within a society. 

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Hate

I never felt so much hate; I never felt so much concern. As an African American we are already living in a land that is not our own. Fighting in a war with our own people; Trapped in gang violence, Trapped in addiction. Drugs ran through our streets like a stream, poisoning every individual who dared to take a drink. With drugs came gang violence, a need of belonging, a need to feel apart of a tribe. Before I never realized the hate we had for one another; The separation we embodied through our own race, it sicken me. It made me want to change; but how could I make a change; I was one of them. I am not a “gang banger” per se but I am hood influenced. I know what it’s like to have nothing; I know what it’s like when you are at war, when you have to conform into a soldier to protect yourself. But I escaped; I freed myself from that mindless prison, I fled across the ocean, I soared across the sky; just to change the way I view things. 

Traveling is a means of escape; something that I need, something that I crave. As I began to travel and to see new things, eat food you never had, speak a language you never learned. Traveling made me realize how big the world was; I mean of course the world is big. But you have to understand, some people never leave the place they grew up in. I have friends that won’t leave the hood because that’s all they know. Traveling broadens ones understanding; it fills you with new knowledge. The more and more I traveled, the more i began to understand how separated we were as a people. How we were brained washed, and stripped of our heritage; how hate has established itself on our race like it was a mask hiding who we truly were. 

As I made my way out the airport, I was surrounded by dozens of Jamaicans. Each of them herding around the tourists trying to make as much money as possible. For some reason the Caribbean touched me differently. The heat hit me right in the face as I followed my taxi driver to the ATM. The weather here was lovely, the humidity bounced off my skin; I began to sweat. US currency is worth more here, a hundred dollar bill in Jamaica is one dollar in the US. I pulled out at least 10,000 Jamaican, and headed towards my hotel. The jungle surrounded the island, which reminded me of Puerto Rico. Jamaica had its own unique look, it was strange as we drove along side the ocean; and the sun sat above the waters just right. Even though we were in the same ocean. It seemed as if we were in another. No matter where the beach is, it will never give the same impression as the next beach.

As I made my way to my room, being followed by one of the staff who carried my bags I began to realized i would probably be the only African American on the property. It was not an issue, it’s not like I haven’t experienced it before, you just feel out of place. And as the staff hustled around and scampered across the property they began to remind me of slaves. As the sun began to collide with the ocean , it painted the sky violet sending a dark shadow over the resort. I laid under a cabana watching as the waves crashed against the shore right below my feet. The way the staff seemed bothered me; It was 2019, i understand poverty, i understand what its like to have nothing, to have no one. But i’ll never surrender my pride, i’ll never surrender my honor.

The smoke left my finger tips as a cloud blew out towards the sea, I began to think why it was like this? Why our people decided to kneel instead of stand, The way the staff looked at me; as if I were there enemy. It was understandable in the US, because the biggest threat would come from a person of our own race; we were at war with ourselves and it is shameful. So to cheer myself up, I told the staff it was my birthday. It was March 17th; my birthday was in January. I felt like they owed me something so i took the champagne bottle after i ordered as many free mimosas as i could. I wobbled to my room, falling face first into my bed; Was poverty the issue? Of course it was, but was it a viable issue? Poverty is not an excuse, it is a viable issue but it isn’t a reason to make yourself less of a person because you grew up differently. 

Poverty is what makes us stronger; not having access to certain things, not being able to do whatever we want gives us strength. It gives us this type of grit that allows us to get through these hard times . These times where we don’t have anyone, the times where we struggle is what makes a person great, when they become successful. I think that is the key, our oppressors keep us isolated. They keep us in check with the drugs, they keep us controlled with the jails and prisons. They seperate us with the hate, they distance us with slavery. As walked through the property, seeing the huge pirate ships they had in the pool, the chidden swimming around the bottom of the ship like fish in the ocean, watching the kids slide down the unique slides that went in and out of the pirate ship.

I realized the hate as the employees glared at me in disgust while they tended to every need the white man demanded. It was confusing to me; how could you treat them better? how could you dislike your own race? And that’s when it hit me; the invention of gangs is what brain washed us. It made us overlook the fact that we are killing our own people, that we in fact hate ourselves. Because of gangs, we are in war with ourselves. The fact that I only feel threatened when its coming frpm a male of the same race. The empowerment that comes with this invention is universal, its indestructible. There are so many people that i know, that are in this life to the death. There are people i know that are so far brainwashed; there’s no coming back. Maybe with time, maybe with age. But by the time we figured out what’s going on as a people, we will be extinct. 

The separation we face, is crippling. The separation I’ve witnessed is heartbreaking. Ive put my toes in the oppressors empowerment, I’m tested the waters; i know what that life is like, I’ve been temporarily brain washed. But I was able to see the light through all the darkness, they used these things to separate us, they use these things to break us, to enslave us. The Caribbean taught me a lot of things, it taught me what hate really means. Don’t get me wrong, not all of the Jamaicans i came across were unpleasant. Once i ventured out, and walked the streets, seen the people who struggled like i have it seemed as if we knew each other forever.

That is my whole point of this essay, our race has been brainwashed, not only in the US but worldwide. The hate that exists in our race is how they control us; we see it as a way of survival because it is our only option. But that is not the case, we are stronger together; that is why we were separated; that is the key of the separation, we cannot be strong as people if we aren’t people at all. They have turned us into individuals; they made it to where we aren’t people at all. 

In conclusion I’ve witnessed a lot visiting these islands so far away from Sacramento, Ca Jamaican, African, Puerto Rican, Dominican, Cuban; each culture are variations of African descent. We are all the same people; and yet we are separated by a hate that is not our own, but something that was bestowed upon us. We are separated mentally, spirtually, and physically; and through the hate that they placed on us we are crippled, we are blinded, we are brain washed. A culture that is broken; a culture that consist of hate.

[charles-bee-blog]

Luna, Warrior

Your opening lines (warrior, fantasy, MC name is Luna) 

@msiilpl

When Luna peered through the trees, she could make out the shapes of the enemy. Shadows and shapes, shapes and shadows – but she had to trust her eyes and her instincts. She was guided only by the moonlight. And who would strike first? She wondered. Who would be the one to take all things into consideration… and spring forward anyway, despite the danger?

Without giving herself another moment to think or hesitate, she lunged. 

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Memories

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Oh, how I miss you

I miss your face and your smile

I miss your laugh and your voice

I miss your body holding me near

I miss your jokes and your eyes

I would give everything to see you again

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I never went to college, you say

I never went to a psychologist, I say

Even though

You asked and pleaded and begged

Until one day I realized you never asked

That was my own fictional voice

In the back of mind, echoing

Praying to find someone

Who could finally let these demons out

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First Hunt

As I walk through the trees 

I try to find my own path

Swayed by my own temptations

A mental aftermath

Knowing or not knowing 

Who I really am

Am I black ?

Or Native American

I’m trying better to understand 

I laced the bow with an arrow

Taking aim at myself

Killing who I am

Tearing a page from the bookshelf

I crouched down 

As I pulled another arrow 

from my quiver 

like a snake

a sort of slithered

I took aim at myself again 

Ready to kill 

That part of myself 

That I don’t really understand

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Like William

Like Shakespeare

I will start with love

Oh Juliet , Oh Juliet .

Entangled embrace

Tight like

Thy glove.

Like Romeo

I fell for her

only he could understand.

Like Rose from the titanic

She had to let go

Of Jacks hand.

Icy waters that consume

& freeze thy heart.

I knew this would be the death of us

even from the spark .

You are not

For me

And I

Am not for you.

It’s not about your figure

or your beauty ..

I will walk you to the altar blind; and I’ll still say I do.

Vows of virtue

loves precious lines ,

to whom this may concern

you are always on my mind.

I am Romeo

and you are Juliet

. This secret we share is dangerous,

like a game of Russian roulette.

Each time I pull the trigger

hearing the barrel twist.

Your lips leave mine

a poisoned kiss.

I finally found the bullet

it let off the right sound .

Squeezing the gun

There goes the last round

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The forget-me-nots aren't blooming.

They wither on the sill

No amount of water

Could ressurect them still.

The sunlight shines enough for them,

But all I think to do

Is to let them die right there

Like my relationship with you.

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the hardest lesson to learn, is that what you give, you don’t always get in return

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I write emotions

that nobody feels

I write words

that nobody hears

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31-10-2019, a Halloween poem.

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every mouth you’ve ever kissed was just practice all the bodies you’ve ever undressed and ploughed in to were preparing you for me. i don’t mind tasting them in the memory of your mouth they were a long hall way a door half open a single suit case still on the conveyor belt was it a long journey? did it take you long to find me? you’re here now, welcome home. -Warsan Shire SEE MORE CONFESSIONAL WRITING