“I think it’s so cool that we can manage to be here together, even through our differing political opinions,” He mentioned right after taking a long drag of his cigarette.
I wasn’t talking politics at all. I just thought that the recent violent police shooting in Charlotte is terrible and these stories are frighteningly reoccurring. A whole entire person was shot while he held not one dangerous weapon in his hand, but instead he held a book. As one who is an avid reader while being of the Negro distinction, I would like to live through an afternoon of leisurely reading.
Political, you see is much different. Firstly, I named not one politician. I discussed no political event. I didn’t even center the discussion on whatever embarrassing ass excuse of a debate political hopefuls took part in.
Which (and now we’re talking politics) was a fuck mess, and I’m definitely going to be using the right to be married (that I don’t actually recall asking for) to marry someone outside of the country just in case this shit here gets impossible to deal with.
I’m not going to be using that right to further a conversation with this man, who I go to college with and ended up at the same party, splitting a limp cigarette. This is not our magic moment. If you consider the importance of black lives to be not just political, but a political stance you have “differing opinions” on, you’re not my type.
In fact, I am disgusted that I’m here sharing a cigarette with you. Shit, I’ll do you one better. I quit smoking. I’m ready to do better with my life, in hopes that we will share as few moments together as humanly possible. Should we end up in the same room with one another, I will check the direction of my life and figure out what I could have done better, as to continue to avoid you.
If I see you walking the same sidewalk as me, I’ll cross. Perhaps I’ll even jump out in front of traffic. And even in the afterlife, I’ll avoid you there too, because Black Afterlives Matter,
Which isn’t fucking political. It’s common fucking sense.