Adventures With Tia

Being Black sometimes comes with the burden of not knowing who you are and where you came from. Some cases, we are penalized for trying to find this information. Sometimes, even when we are successful in gathering knowledge it becomes another challenge trying to get that knowledge known. To know that others have come and gone before, to uncover, to mourn and to celebrate history, sometimes burns, in a way that can't really be described. And until Blackness isn't a thing to be hated, history will keep holding us back. Save Yourself 100 words Photo by Sandra Cook All Sharif could feel was his resentment. Countless buildings around Europe are devoted to the Jews. Yes, they died for no reason. Yes, it is tragic and the world should never forget. Yet his people were shunned for wanting to know, to remember their history. Sharif balled his fist, quietly raging at the building. Some famous hospital, where countless lives were saved. "Who saved us?" He murmured  

Photo Prompt by J Hardy Carrol Friday Fictioneers My friend Rachael messages me this morning at like 6 AM saying that I should write more. She shows me a picture of a story submission to Glimmer Train from 2012. S/N I hate Glimmer Train btw, you have to pay them to submit a short story. I'm a cheap bastard. I haven't written anything publicly since my first and last entry of this blog in May 2017. I haven't written anything privately since maybe December? I'm not even sure. The point is, and Rachael is right, I should write more. I complained to her that, "I want to make money and writing is a long con with no guaranteed pay off." I make jewelry. Jewelry making makes me happy. Jewelry Making pays for cat food. Jewelry Making buys wine. I don't even drink wine often, but I can because of Jewelry Making. The one place I got published , hasn't sold enough for a royalty check, and I doubt it ever will. But Rachael is right. I made some excuses

The last time I wrote a blog it was Remaking Me! and the last post on it was in 2015. ( See Here ) It was a mixture of things. it had A Bean Counter where I tallied the week in news against the rest of my life and added some humor. I Read books and reviewed them. I talked about my mental health, trying very hard to adjust to life outside the Navy after I attempted to kill myself. I talked about numerous things and I was very satisfied with what I was doing until I stopped talking about it. A huge part of that was because I started school again and got busy. Things were for a time looking way up. I was getting A's in every class. I had a best friend that totally supported me. I filed for disability and got a huge check for the back pay I was owed and started growing out my hair to deadlock it. Then everything started to fall apart. My book that I was working so hard to complete stopped giving me inspiration. I quit school. I dumped my friend and became the reclusive nut case wri