Sad Reality in a Dream

I have vivid dreams…some help me to navigate my personal life, while others show me a reality that I couldn’t understand in a linear sense.

This morning, I dreamt of these things:

A big black nipple

Black people in my dreams…don’t know them in real life


A baby in a carriage that was hauled off to Watts and abandoned…

A school bus full of black people and a school that looked like my middle school.

Me making a phone call to a guy in Watts, only to get the voicemail…which had a woman speaking.

Dreams are usually non-linear, meaning they aren’t a a logical sequence. I interpreted this dream ion this way.

There is a lack of nurturing in the Black community, and no one wants to listen. The baby was sent off to Watts while I left the apartment, meaning that the responsibility was not of the black man. He didn’t want to watch the baby. Instead, he sent him to Watts of all places. Is that place safe? Never been there, only heard of the race riot, where the only race that was affected was the Black race, and the only neighborhood that was destroyed was the Black neighborhood. ( I never understood Black revolts. Why destroy your  own home to prove a point to non-Blacks?)

This could mean that there is a social unrest in the Black community that has imploded, or is being internalized right now.

The big black nipple that I saw was of a woman on the other side of the screen door. One tit (perky) was hanging out as she came in the door. The woman, as I see it, is ready to nurture, but how do we get that through the heads of the hard heads? Remember, no one answered the phone when I was calling the guy to find the missing baby…a woman was on the voicemail instead.

When will Black people be open to loving each other? When will Black men start listening? How long will love and nurturing be rejected?

I have experienced it first hand myself. I am naturally nurturing, and love to give love, especially to Black men. But what do I get in return? Games. I’ve heard everything from ‘That dumb bitch really like me. I’ma play with her…liking me and shit.’ , to not hearing back at all. I am made a fool of because I want to care for and love a Black man. I am actually hurt more than anything because of my decision to open my heart to a Black man. I won’t do that anymore. I should know better, as I know the generational patterns going on in the community, with the hate of Black women from Black men.

These guys are so verbal in their disdain for their own women that they reject any form of affection, or just boil it down to sex. it’s a sad state to be in. How do we get them to listen?

I mean, to be honest, they don’t make it easy, as everything is laughable and non-serious to these guys. You can’t be serious, because it all boils down to, ‘What does that have to do with anything?’

I haven’t a clue. I’ll look for love within myself until my cowboy comes.


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