What's in a Post? "Still I Rise"...




















Still I Rise


You may write me down in history 

With your bitter, twisted lies, 
You may tread me in the very dirt 
But still, like dust, I'll rise. 

Does my sassiness upset you? 
Why are you beset with gloom? 
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells 
Pumping in my living room. 

Just like moons and like suns, 
With the certainty of tides, 
Just like hopes springing high, 
Still I'll rise. 

Did you want to see me broken? 
Bowed head and lowered eyes? 
Shoulders falling down like teardrops. 
Weakened by my soulful cries. 

Does my haughtiness offend you? 
Don't you take it awful hard 
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines 
Diggin' in my own back yard. 

You may shoot me with your words, 
You may cut me with your eyes, 
You may kill me with your hatefulness, 
But still, like air, I'll rise. 

Does my sexiness upset you? 
Does it come as a surprise 
That I dance like I've got diamonds 
At the meeting of my thighs? 

Out of the huts of history's shame 
I rise 
Up from a past that's rooted in pain 
I rise 
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, 
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. 
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear 
I rise 
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear 
I rise 
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, 
I am the dream and the hope of the slave. 
I rise 
I rise 
I rise.

Maya Angelou



This has some meaning to me today. After my keeping up with the joneses post, and the post just before it, I guess the few people that did talk to me are no longer. I'm guessing, they think those posts were directed at them, and where they could have asked if I meant them (it was aimed at no one specifically really, just a whole set of circumstances) now I'm just not worth talking to at all.  Or communicating in any fashion at all, be it personal or social media (which is usually what I get anyway, and that is just fine with me).


This is my life. And people wonder why I don't even bother to try to make more friends when these are the kind I've already got right? I'm not even worth picking up a phone and typing a message to anymore. It's no wonder I'm lonely.  Is it because of the choices I make? The information I choose to share here? I'm not sure. I know people read here, I average some 500 to 1,000 readers a month so I know SOMEONE out there is reading these. Maybe those of you that do read and actually know me could take a few minutes to let me know that you haven't forgotten I exist. I'm sorry I'm a needy paranoid person. You kind of get stuck with an all or none deal with me.  Im flawed, I'm broken, and I still need my friends, even if by some misunderstood reason, you perceived an offense I did not mean. You had nothing to do but to ask...


Until next time...
J

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