(Words) That person that I am to so many people..is gone for me..
I'm a lot of things to a lot of people. It is in my nature to be that way. I'm the voice of reason. The truth teller. The comforter. The 'We can get this done' person. The 'You aren't aight right now but YOU CAN AND WILL BE BECAUSE WE WILL MAKE IT SO TOGETHER PERSON'.
I suck at letting anyone do that for me. At least I did until I met Melissa Jane..
Not that I actually let her do it for me either.. "Cause you see, she was just like I was.
She just didn't allow it.
We grew to do that for each other via our mutual defiance initially to allow the other to do it for us.
I'm having a hard time getting folks to 'see' that. Folks want to visit. (Not you next week's visitor. You are good money! Can't wait to see you just like I just texted you..) Folks I don't even 'know' but who knew her. Folks who DID KNOW HER OR KNOW ME. Folks who have BEEN KNOWN ME.
They will have to understand. The person that I allowed to do that... the ONE PERSON ON THE EARTH that I allowed to do that with regularity......
.....is gone.
I don't have that anymore. I think I have folks who 'could' do it. That's not what I am saying. It isn't about them though. It is about me. The type of person that I am, to even ALLOW SOMEONE TO HELP ME IN MY TIME OF NEED is SO HARD.....
I could have helped you a THOUSAND TIMES OVER and it is still hard for me to let you help once. That's just how difficult it is. Terrible I know...
Mother's Day:
Pretty sure a lot of you were expecting a post on that day but I just couldn't do it. I mean I wrote one but it was just way too personal for me to share here. Maybe later.. Tough day. That's all I can really say.
My girl @FireFire100 with the post on hip-hop Misogyny.. on the @huffingtonpost site..
Dope read. Yeah.. my friends are pretty damm awesome. @ what they do. She sums things up pretty well in my humble opinion. It is 'WHITED OUT' so that you go to THEIR SITE and read it as it is NOT MINE. The link is at the bottom.."
The first step to overcoming an addiction is admitting that you have one. In order to rid oneself of addiction, one must declare it. My name is Fire Burgess and I am a diehard fan of misogynistic Rap music. I am a prisoner who is currently suffering from a Musical Stockholm Syndrome. I am a brainwashed Rap music fan with the ability to end the addiction , yet I choose to remain in this one-sided, 'never will I be as high as the first time' relationship. I have made endless excuses for my addiction to this drug for almost as long as I have been addicted. After every hit ends I am in search of money in order to purchase the next hit.
I am his bitch.
I met Rap in elementary school way before I understood what the word 'bitch' meant. Rap pulled on my pigtails in class and pushed me into the sandbox at recess while dirtying my dungarees. His invasive approach to friendship was everything my parents warned me about when choosing acquaintances. His swagger and 'I could care less' attitude kept me wide awake every night wondering what tricks he would pull the next day in school. I anticipated arriving to school (the radio), each day in order to be taunted by this beautiful, rambunctious, fearless, abrasive yet melodious creature. We fast became friends. My formerly established bff's , Soul and R&B, were none too pleased with the time I spent fawning over Rap. Eventually Soul and R&B accepted Rap into our circle. Realizing that all of us were in love and this relationship could benefit each significant partner.
I am his victim.
The years I have spent with Rap have given me a beautiful and unmatched euphoric high when I am not being subjected to his berating, misogynistic and murderous lows. I have discovered that the beautiful music I fell in love with and allowed to captivate and contain me for the last 30 years, has turned on me and I am currently 'sleeping with the enemy.' He has beaten and betrayed me. Rap has purchased an expensive new sports car in order to catch a much younger, greener version of me. His betrayal has caused him to ignore the gorgeous children we made together during our lifelong relationship.
I am his hoe.
The victim should never blame themselves. But at what point does the victim's insistence at remaining a couple make the relationship dually abusive? Rap music has reached its nadir, a point I formerly believed to be unachievable. I am an educated, intelligent woman and I know when a rapper says "bitch or hoe" in a song that he is not talking to me, I am neither. Yet, I am a bitch and hoe. I am a hoe for an art form that has no respect for me because I keep supporting and encouraging his bad habits by purchasing his product. After 30+ years of support, I have discovered that my favorite form of escapism has no regard for my own gender's safety, advancement and well being. The only regard that Rap respects is monetary.
I am his example.(This article is one in a series of many where I will be exploring the attempted murder of urban music by the music industry and its artists.)
Fire: Rap(e) Music