I don’t go off on political rants much these days.  For one I’ve had some serious personal shit going on the past 3 years but also I’m fed the fuck up about some things.  At this point with the mediocre white man who just might be illiterate living at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave – not my president mind you – I lean towards self care and try to not dwell on what the next seven years of life will be for my nation.

Today though I have to let a little out before I pop, and not a good pop.

This right now is also an attempt to distract me from some shit happening in my personal life I can’t talk about yet because the resolution is up in the air.

But back to the liability thing.

First off, you are not required to agree with me.  You can even disagree with me that is fine, but guess what….debate your fucking momma your dissent means nothing here.

In the year of somebody’s lord twenty and seventeen I am not going to give space any longer to the concept that I am responsible for the fuck shit that is going on in this life.

We have a Nazi as President. Again debate your momma on this.

For the second time a woman who was significantly more qualified than all the opponents tossed up there was rejected for President.

My reproductive care is on the table and debated by men who need never concern themselves about gestation.

The color of my skin is a walking death warrant and I have to concern myself with living every time I exit my home.

This life is harder for me today than it was three years ago.

In a fashion I appreciate it more, if for nothing else I can see my enemy in front of me rather than keeping my head on a constant swivel.

In a fashion I am angry beyond measure that I have to exist in this fashion.

Let me be really clear here.

My existence as a queer, fat, liberal, Black woman is valid.  I know that it is valid because I use oxygen.

It is no longer my job to defend my validity, it’s the job of the rest of you to get your shit together.

Aphrodite Brown