(from Wednesday April 25th, 2018)




A few thoughts rolled through my mind today.



In between them was a song sung by Paul McCartney titled « Yesterday « .






Twas more than yesterday when dad died.


Seven years ago.


Yet, it seems like it never happened.


Like it was never yesterday.


Here we were riding in the car when an unpleasant thought popped up in my head.



It happened while you were talking about money, again.



Then came my thoughts and a horrible realization concerning you.



It concerned dad who is dead.



No need for a tissue.



Money is the subject and issue.



Or, is it?



Is your mind polluted?



Something about this situation is deeply rooted.



Although he never did, I went to court.



Through me you received child support.



Sometimes life is strange.



With twists and turns.



Should there be a change?



There are so many things that I can say.



Every now and then reality and the truth sets in just like yesterday.



You never had the guts to make sure that dad paid child support.



Yeah, he never did.



It is truly weird that you now get it through your very own kid.



Amazing how I can count the times you never were on the regular to make sure that dad paid child support for us kids.



You loved him.

I understand that.


Love does that to a woman sometimes.


Love is free and can be deep.


It can be sick, too.


Like a bird.


My peep.


Through this word.


I have been through a lot.


I have made a lot of sacrifices.


Here I was just a kid.


Dad was fired, again.


The house was clean and dark.


The curtains were closed.


Oh, what whoas.



Yet, instead of him, you looked at me.



You told me to get the fuck out and get some money…….the best way that I knew how, because you needed it.



Oh, shit!





Deep rooted.


Sometimes, am I your replacement nigga?






Hitting me deep in the pocket.



Calling that O.K.D.H.S. card on the regular.


For more than twenty years, old habits never die.



You know my off days better than I!



Yet, my off days remain work days!



Are your other kids replacement niggas, too?


Maybe all except for one.


She has her own nigga for now.


It’s supposed to be that way.


She is grown.


However, you need one of your own.


Not just anyone, either.


You need a responsible one, who can also be your guide and teacher.



I am not talking  about a preacher.


You hate those.


There is a reason for that, too.


What to do? What to do?


I don’t know when, but shit will hit the fan?



You somehow are unschooled as to what the true role is regarding you, relationships, and the roles of family members, gender, and a man.



The role of the man for you.


Damn, I feel really disgusted about today.


Especially, about your deeply rooted problems and yesterday!


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