Once, I had purpose. I was a black college student
trying to make it in a world hostile to me and others
like me. I was a determined activist speaking up for the
rights of Men, especially fathers and the bias they face
in court.
I was a hero who helped those who had no hope.
I was a great writer and public speaker. I had purpose.
I stood up to men and women, politicians and civilians,
activists and judges.
I had my causes to champion. I was a closeted bisexual
desperately looking for love in the city. I was desperate when
the young woman I loved moved away from me without so
much a word. I was frightened when the boy I loved the
most also took off.
I felt despair when my school kicked me out because of
poor academic performance. Why ? I was studying computers
and I hated them. My passion was criminal justice, which my
family wouldn't let me study.
I was frightened when I faced a bleak future, so I decided
to write the pain away in short stories, and ended up with a
book. Now, I'm trying to get back into school. I'm trying to
get published. I'm still doing activism for Men's Rights, no
matter how small my deeds.
I pray to God to give me the strength to fight for my beliefs and
claw my way out of the darkness I live in. I hope that someday
I will make it and look back at this with laughter in my voice.
There are many obstacles in the way but I will overcome them.
Why ? Simply because I must. The adventure is just beginning and
I'm not down for the count.
The end.
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