I've always loved black men. The way they walk, their style, the culture they represent, and the beauty that reflects in their different hue's of brown. I've always believed in them. I believed that they were more intellectual than society wanted to portray and that their creativity and potential for success far outweighed the presumption … Continue reading Who Has the Answer? A Piece About My Fear for My Black Men.
Yesterday, I thought depression was my friend. I thought that it was the easiest way to live through a moment where I was struggling mentally, physically, and emotionally. The more that I gave into the feeling, the more it felt normal and necessary. It had gotten to the place where I felt like not being … Continue reading Depression is Deceitful