Saturday, February 4, 2012

Perception is everything...but it don't mean shit

Again, I am reminded by the rantings of some, how I am perceived by the general public. You don't know me. You have never walked in my shoes. Yet, you look at my skin color, and my kids and the small percentage of my life that I expose to the public and think you know me. Then... have the arrogance to speak on it. On me. On what you think you know of me.
Fact: You don't know me.
You only know what I showed you.
Fact: Your arrogance is what prevented me from exposing more of myself.
You only have the small bits, bird crumbs of what I threw down for you to peck at.
That is what I do.
I throw out crumbs.
I observe. I rank loyalty. You lose.
It takes years to know me. Decades in fact.
Two years. Five years. Sneeze.
Achoo! It don't mean shit.
Have I shared my journals with you?
Have you seen family photos?
Do you know the suburb I grew up in?
How about my first cats name?
How about my Nana's first name?
Know the story behind the only spanking I ever got?
Do you know why I chose Boston University even though I had a full ride to Loyola?
How about my first car? Know what that was?
Know where I am retiring...and when?
Know my kids middles names? and birthdates?
How about what size underwear I wear?
Here's an easy one: How old was I when I started modeling? When I walked my 1st runway? How much I earned when I was 19 years old and the celebrity that changed my outlook on the industry?
Do you know what my first job in high school was?
How about where I worked in college?
Do you know why I love the Saints so much?
Know what my step father said to me that made me realize how much he despised my father?
Do you know what sorority my maternal grandmother belonged to?
Here's a good one, what tribe am I a direct descendant of and what percentage Native American am I?
Do you know which sibling is from which parent and step parent?
Do you know why I don't bake?
Then shut the fuck up.
You don't know shit.

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