“She was married, true; but if one’s husband was always sailing round Cape Horn, was it marriage? If one liked him, was it marriage? If one liked other people, was it marriage? And finally, if one still wished, more than anything in the whole world, to write poetry, was it marriage? She had her doubts.”

– from Orlando, by Virginia Woolf

The spectacle is the existing order’s uninterrupted discourse about itself, its laudatory monologue. It is the self-portrait of power in the epoch of its totalitarian management of the conditions of existence.
— Read on www.marxists.org/reference/archive/debord/society.htm

you know what your problem is?
you need everyone to be exactly like you
the most toxic unforgiving love is the one that can’t move across difference
we peeped it and you the most unforgiving typa nigga
leave the hatin’ middle school 
clique-ass bullshit in the past 
you GROWN
leave me alone 

we want black power
we want black power
we want black power 
we want black power
we want black power
we want black power want black power we  want black power we want black powerwe want black power we want black powerwe want black power we want black power we want black power we want black power
we want black powerwe want black powerwe want black power we want black powerwe want black powerwe want black power want black power we  want black power we want black powerwe want black power we want black powerwe want black power we want black power we want black power we want black power