People Hurt Hurt People

20 Jul

Eek BillWhen I was a teenager, I got hooked to a cartoon featuring two Neanderthals resembling Laurel and Hardy. Or for the Dutch readers, they resembled Peppi en Kokki. But then again, Peppi en Kokki were modeled after Laurel and Hardy. The fat – uh, obese – Neanderthal would get the skinny – uh, fat challenged – Neanderthal in trouble. After all was said and done, the fat Neanderthal would walk away very pleased with his ignorant self, while the head-on-sticks Neanderthal was left to be eaten, burned, crushed or whatever, and would bemoan: “WHEN WILL THE HURTING STOP?”

Eek? It was the moan that got me hooked to the cartoon. Because, that was exactly how I felt. Never mind how pathetic the storyline was. Clearly, they ran out of decent ideas after two episodes. Never mind that I knew how every episode would end. Clearly, one good punchline was enough. Every Saturday morning. I would wait to hear the moan, and I would curse if I missed it. I simply needed someone to moan back to me what I felt. To say out loud, what I would hold in. And there was no measure to my anger when I could no longer catch the show. Either they canceled it, or I had started to work on Saturdays.

As I read some letters that I had written back then, the words came back to me. When will the hurting stop? I was a teenager who was sabotaged out of school, targeted to leave my ‘home’, and looking for a decent paying job to cover my bills. Against all odds, I got what I was looking for. Only to learn that at the new fool school they did not even pretend to want to teach me anything. Only to learn that I had to pay rent as an adult instead of getting the subsidized housing that I should have been awarded as a teenager. Only to learn that I had hit dirt pay, not pay dirt.

I might have been able to deal with all that if I had not had enemies in my camp. I read the letters and I recognized them. I recognized them, because I could finally put in perspective what I had written about them. My teenage self was telling me what those people had done to me, and how upsetting it had been to find out that they could not be trusted. From one letter to the other, I could tell that I let my guard down anyway. I found it difficult to let go of all enemies. Apparently, I had chosen to let go of only the worst ones. And I look back to show myself that there were no best ones.

When will the hurting stop? I realized that I could not tell my teenage self that the hurting had stopped. My life only runs smoothly when I head for trouble. And, once again, I was about to step into a lions’ den.  As painful as that realization is, I must also be clear on the fact that these nemeses have not openly shown themselves to be enemies yet. But, as I read the letters from my teenage self, it is almost as if I have reached out through time to warn myself. Imagine that. I knew that I was writing the letters to myself, but I never considered that I would be advising my ‘future’ self. Until now, I always thought that I would be reaching back in time to fully heal myself. It is what I have been doing. Reaching back to myself so I could get rid of shame and blame. No one told me that doing so would enable my teenage self to reach out to me in the present. I am now to teach those who have the ears to listen. Listen.

Rachel JeantelWithout blame and shame, I could read through the teenage babble and see how I had actually written down how predators work to catch their prey. It had been too confusing at the time because of the fact that adults ridiculed me for making mistakes befitting my age, and blamed me for their mistakes not befitting their age. And many of their ‘mistakes’ were intended to brutally injure me. These psychopaths called other predators ‘nice’ or ‘beautiful’, while their prey was called ‘ugly’, ‘weird’ or whatever the hint was at the time. Brainwashing. As I was deemed ‘ugly’, I was to listen to people who pointed out ‘nice’ and ‘beautiful’ – but disturbingly sick – people, for me to get attached to. Of course, those predators were only ‘nice’ when trying to get close enough. Hindsight shows their poison leaking through their whitened ‘beauty’.

Predators speak a language that makes perfect sense to them. They use a lot of words, but never say what they mean. They have accepted that they can more easily turn people into prey when they deem them extremely ‘ugly’. Black Black. Some Surinamese would say “Braka”. It means that someone is so Black that he or she is Black. For the Dutch among us, it means to be as Black as black pete. No matter how you put it, predators will come close to see if they can make this person into their personal slave. To be Braka is to have to fend for yourself. It is the first and last thing that predators see. Apparently, I was Braka enough to be preyed upon at school, at home, and at work. And the only friends I was able to make were undercover and covered-up predators waiting for a weak moment to strike, and get fed off my misery.

So, if there is one thing that you cannot be as the darkest one in a group, it is to be weak in public. All of a sudden, every predator in town will want to get close, and your crew will let them. Just so they do not have to be the victim. Show yourself weak, and you will have no  problems making ‘friends’. As long as you stand strong in public, it will be your ‘friends’ who will show their weakness as they try to sacrifice you. If they ‘neglect’ to protect one, then they better not ‘neglect’ understanding that they are all at risk. Nonsense? Not to the predators. These sick beings take note that the group will sacrifice their own, and will attach to the group to get fed a few victims more. A few or all. It depends on the ease of the feed. Sometimes the group wises up quickly, and gives the predator a run for his sickness.

I read the letters and understood my weakness. Internalized hate leaving me blind to signs and signals, and a world of predators feasting off my sufferings. Great insight, but I still could not tell myself that the hurting had stopped. I was not ready to applaud myself on having grown so much that I could clearly see some of the errors of some of my ways. It took me long enough to do so. And all the while I kept moaning: “when will the hurting stop.” It was time for me to meditate so I could stand to see the reason why.

Yet another lions’ den. Probably a few of them at the same time. I stopped worrying about my enemies in the forefront long enough to be able to sense those in the background. It was like that back then too. Getting distracted by petty people throwing their petty stuff at me, while the killers in the back could take their time gathering all the information they needed to set an effective and efficient trap. ‘My crew’ would make sure to help them. And this is where it gets insulting: I was only someone to practice on. Nothing personal, just business. And while they took aim outside of my vision, yet completely within it at the same time, I would moan. Yes, still the same punchline.

Shakespeare My teenage self reached out to me, in the same way that some parents should allow their children to reach out to them. She showed me that I had all the answers back then already. But, I needed help to formulate the questions. One question I had down pat: when will the hurting stop? With her help I can finally formulate an answer. To let go off all the psychopaths. No need for keep-sakes. Just step away from the poison, ma’am. I do not have to go into the lions’ den. What a relief. To see the error of my own ways. Without blame or shame. And to be able to step away without feeling guilt. My responsibility is towards my self, not sick people. Still, there is not only one answer.

It is no use telling psychopaths that a painful fate awaits them. As far as the psychopaths are concerned, they ‘feel’ confident that they have already escaped a worse fate. To their sick mind, nothing could be worse than the hell they think they managed to escape from. They ‘feel’ like they are finally safe, and the only thing threatening them is someone discovering that they are acting their way through life. That they have paid a steep price to pretend to ‘feel’ safe among other predators. Often times, worse predators. But, guess what happens when the pretense falls away? Then what you got? Well Hell. The next level. Do not take my word for it. Go ahead and continue with your bad selves.

Without the shame to stop me from sunbathing, I have truly become Too Much Black. Even though I am not yet Indigo, it feels great. And, as I continue with my Braka self, I am sure as your hell not going to hurt over you.




18 Responses to “People Hurt Hurt People”

  1. hunglikejesus July 20, 2013 at 2:27 pm #

    You are on a roll this morning huh?

    I did a piece called, “hurt people hurt people”. My angle was a bit different, but the idea remains intact.

    I said it once before and I ain’t scared to say it again. I love you.

  2. honeytreebee July 21, 2013 at 7:16 am #

    Wow were you reading my journals too? You have an amazing way of telling your story and making it easy to relate. I remember those days and all of the puddles and deep hidden oceans of pain caused by the wild pack. It is so true with these things you can not be the darkest, love your blackness, or love the darkest one. There’s also that fight to try and get you to give up Blackness. Good for you that you are embracing yours and see the beauty. You know what happens when the preditor can no longer feed on what was once prey. They turn on each other and eat each other till there is no more often with the few remaining so weak that they die off.

    • No Black Pete July 21, 2013 at 2:06 pm #

      LOLOL. It might be time to start publishing those journals. Our youths are hungry for understanding what the well hell is going on! Adults to teach them that life does not have to hurt. Not all the time. To teach them to go Black, and never go back.
      Much appreciated. Peace.

  3. diaryofanegress July 21, 2013 at 10:45 pm #

    This was magnificently expressed. I think every black person feels this way to some degree or another.

    you must have read my mind on having “friends”, especially in public. Vampires do exist. They find you and feed off of your energies. By the way, ever heard of Phil Valentine?

    • No Black Pete July 22, 2013 at 10:43 am #

      Much appreciated. People always talk about taking action. Well, here it is. Keep away as much as you can from those misdirecting, educate yourself (or form a study group with TRUSTED others to do so), and get to clean up the inner mess-age. Turn it into a clear message.

      Yes, I have heard and seen some stuff on this Master Teacher. Is there anything in particular you are refering to? I just found a 15 minutes section at that I will watch. And then I have a date with Sun Ra-ys.

    • diaryofanegress July 22, 2013 at 12:29 pm #

      For some reason, some of us have a mental block where things that should be blatant are invisible to us.

      My heart is in the right place but I cannot force us to wake the hell up. Amos, Anderson, Muhammad, Welsing…all took a break from us and I do understand why. We are a mentally sick race and til we own up to that, we’re not gonna accomplish $hit!

      Sorry for the tirade. I’m supposed to be relaxing.

    • No Black Pete July 22, 2013 at 1:01 pm #

      LOL. It was a very short rant. Just a mess-age to yourself. If you are truly awake, you should not have any trouble reaching others and planting a seed. You know how it works. Give it water, give it Sun Ra-y. That is why I egged you on to tutor on gardening. It is no different from dealing with our children. And adults. All flowers, some with a lot of thorns. Enjoy the Sun. Peace, Flower.

    • diaryofanegress July 22, 2013 at 1:08 pm #

      Love you.


    • No Black Pete July 22, 2013 at 1:14 pm #

      Wow. I not so humbly receive the gift. Thou shalleth receiveth some of its fruit. But, now I am out of here. Peace.

  4. No Black Pete July 22, 2013 at 10:52 am #

    Ms V. You cannot comment, but I will reply. Of course, some people delight in other people’s pain. But, you must be hurting pretty bad to take delight in this. It may be a long way, but anyone can grow up if they want to. Yes, you will have to walk through the pain that you have been hiding from with your brutal shaming and blaming ‘games’. Hopefully you have made a real friend while regressing into your state. Award her royally for keeping you from going completely insane as you take the steps towards sanity. Peace.

  5. Imhotep August 3, 2013 at 10:36 pm #

    White men cannot live without harming something whenever they can. I wonder if it has something to do with that straight hair. I used grind my teeth whenever I was around to watch them slick their hair back. It looked painful.

    When they are in school, the boys use a lighter to burn the wooden desks. It’s amazing, these white history teachers go on and on about euro history (calling it “world” history), and the boys (with their red faces) just carve into and burn their wooden desk. The girls just stare at Our Brothers during the lecture the whole time. Like Negress said, “money, sex and aggression are all they know”. That’s them.


  6. Imhotep August 5, 2013 at 6:40 pm #

    No Black Pete,

    I think Our albino aboriginals are hurt because they (secretly) love and would adore the Mother of All Civilizations. You and I were here first before the albinos. Jah made Us to be the only lover to Our Sisters. So, that upsets them enough to take us off this planet.

    I have seen yt women call Our Sisters ugly because yt women have yt men (they work together because they are both albino) and (Sometimes) us by her side. I know that hurts Our Sisters terribly. There is a mirror to all of this. The albino tans while our sisters and us (sometimes) show them we want yt features. So, everything is balanced, we both lose. I think someone will get upset over this soon. Not sure who will be the first. All of this may go on forever. It is a shame, because We are peaceful and loving.


    • No Black Pete August 5, 2013 at 7:49 pm #

      What white Pete says about beauty is irrelevant. They have disqualified themselves by the way they look and act. Break the spell, and it will be clear that they are the last people in the Multiverse to comment on beauty. And for Black people to try and attach beauty to them shows insanity. To compare whites and rank their ‘beauty’ is insane to me. To only love Black people when white people – the Pitts for example – mimic them is utterly insane.
      White Pete has already told me that I look like Black Pete. Yet, they want to sleep with Black Pete. Uhm. Insane much? When Black people join in, then we got a problem. They more so, than I do. It is the Black woman that gave life, and until she gets the respect she deserves, all will suffer along with her.
      As for “peaceful and loving”, some communities are. But some are not. They cannot make slaves out of everybody. Peace.

    • Imhotep August 6, 2013 at 4:39 pm #

      ” And for Black people to try and attach beauty to them shows insanity. To compare whites and rank their ‘beauty’ is insane to me. To only love Black people when white people – the Pitts for example – mimic them is utterly insane.”

      That’s the truth. It makes absolutely no sense at all. I do not think that some Sisters see “the female version of white pete” in a negative light. Margaret Sanger absolutely despised them. Then again, if you do not know your history, you are doomed to fail!

      “As for “peaceful and loving”, some communities are. But some are not.”

      I do not think about that much. We do have problems to ourselves that need to be worked out, everywhere.


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