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Showing posts from September, 2015

In Her Hands: Bleeding Dreams (Ink)

    Life seems, to most us, a monotonous system where one believes in a certain way of making a living or following a specific routine that has been set and travelled before. The system consists of being born and religiously raised to follow certain oppressive means of living and making it in life.   Amongst a generation, born is a gene, amid the rational ones, who believes that climbing the same train that has rotated and still rotates in the destinations that are deemed to be of efficiency or of the “qualified,” is somewhat adamant to what she believes in. that gene doesn’t only exist in myself, but abides   in most of us.   Fear sometimes skips a generation, but in times that we live in, it is imposed and lives in every generation. The other imposes it then it transforms to be self-imposed fear. Courage , however, does not find comfort than fear does in such minds, for it is not a quality that religiously lives in the life of a black man, as it is considered a danger zon