“I don’t know. I can’t keep up with all the rules and definitions and the gatekeep-iness.”
Well yes. It turns out the apocalypse creeps on you slowly, starting oh — in about March 2020, who would’ve guessed?
“I really don’t need to be in my house simmering over the racist comments on violence against Black people.”
“You know I can’t tell when you’re making Black people jokes!”
What’s the point in arguing with a world that will always devalue Black skin?
“What right do I have to feel grief over this? It’s not my loss.”
Trying to erase the past doesn’t HELP Black folks.
“Karen” is a whole conversation about: white fragility, white privilege, white women weaponizing their tears against Black people when we don’t comply.
You’re not worth my energy nor the years being shaved off my life from the stress of having to defend My Humanity.
“Ma’am, I can assure you that refusing to wear a mask to protect your community… is not the ‘new’ N-word.”
Coronavirus commercials are getting more and more aggressive.
You… don’t know what the word “slur” actually means… do you?
It’s a miracle that I figured out how to use Zoom.
Fine. Everything is PERFECTLY fine.
Who is that scary guy in the robe, holding a big knife? That would be the Grim Reaper, kiddo.
A queer celebration of Black History Month.
Depends on what the “V” stands for…
And now, to sleep.
I rest my case.