Darren Wilson Wasn’t the First: A Short History of Killer Copz Let Off the Hook

Originally posted on Moorbey'z Blog:

Protesters march through the streets of Ferguson. (Jamelle Bouie / Wikimedia Commons)

The U.S. has a long history of allowing police to walk free after vicious racist violence.

BY Flint Taylor

The pre-ordained failure of a biased local prosecutor to obtain an indictment against Darren Wilson should not surprise us. But the movement for justice for Michael Brown has brought widespread attention to the nationwide problem of systemic and racist police violence and highlighted the movement that has come together to battle against it.

The Ferguson grand jury’s decision not to indict Ferguson police officer Darren Wilson for the killing of African-American teenager Michael Brown is heartless but unsurprising. But it is important to place the case in context with the history of police violence investigations and prosecutions in high profile cases—and the systemic and racist police brutality that continues to plague the nation. In doing so, there are lessons…

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Sing It Back To Me

kids-at-play-sign-k-0268

“As soon as I think I want somebody they show me why I don’t want nobody”

So this ties in to my last post of the 60 something days not accounted for. anywho so this guy on ig commented on one of my pics like “do you think i could get you number?” now if you know me and how i feel about things like this you know that (1) im trying to be more open minded with getting to meet guys (2) im extremely indecisive and (3) the most important factor in this situation, i am prone to a guilty conscious. So i was going to give him my number but i didn’t know how to go about doing it, i didnt wanna come off too weird; plus i was still texting someone else at the moment (which wasnt classified as ‘talking’ hell we hadn’t even been on a date) but me being me i still woulda felt bad about it. but the point is that i let time pass and eventually just didnt give him my number. but then later on i thought about it and i figured, he went to school here if he wanted my number that bad he coulda asked for it *which is what i told him last week when he finally asked me again*
but anywho, the dilemma in my brain is (well not really a dilemma but my pet-peeve which is being incited as we speak) is that this man did all that but isn’t acting on any of it…i suppose hes just busy but i get agitated quickly. ESPECIALLY with the no texting back, but you got time to post on social media and make videos on snapchat???
idk its kinda like the ball has just been dropped and im just sittin here like “im not about to take time to text or call first, im not the one who was interested he is.” *why should i have to take the initiative?* then im wondering like “dang was i boring or something?” but still homie could let somebody know or something…

but aside from that annoying little bit over the last 3 days i suppose the initial encounter was pleasant PLUS the day we were supposed to meet for the first time he texted me said he wanted to take me to lunch, even said he had found a vegetarian spot (but i was at community service and couldnt go) so he has some brownie points so far even if he sucks at texting *maybe this one will actually continue to exist*

Make It Feel Good

I’m pretty sure its been like 60 something days since i’ve wrote anything on here…mainly since i decided to delete my app to make room for my update on my phone *so excuse me for not being formal in this next part
so anywho, i guess thats like what 3 months and some change or something of tea you’ve missed out on . I wont provide all the details though. Partly because they’re not very interesting and also because it’s a little too much to type *of course i have the time to do so i just don’t feel like it*
so what should i write then? meh, idk…i guess i could start off with how im excited im finally done with undergrad! dec 12th im out this bih! straight pimp walkin across the stage cane and all. jk jk but i am excited to be done; scared as hell as to what imma do next with my life but still excited. whatever it is i know the universe has plans for me.
lets so…oh yea, ‘honey bun’ i dont remember where we last left off with those adventures but basically i don’t think those encounters exist anymore. he was a tad bit too weird anyway. texted me one night like “i wish you trusted me” in my head im sittin there like what??? and i reply “huh” hes like “you wouldnt even let me come over to hang out so i don’t see the point in asking if i can crash there” my face was (-___-) #seriously? but i for real hope he finds happiness out there in life
oh; my 22nd was gucci, had a hobo party got to set shizzz on fire in a trashcan my friends stole from the school
There was the stuff from homecoming but i won’t put that in here…just know: Shit Got Real

#6 They Lit Up The Room

thetreeshaveeyes2:

i honestly just really like the picture; the words are nice too but the picture is key. i just wouldn’t mind tea, grilled cheese, and a nice conversation with a dude i fancied at the moment.

Originally posted on Spilled Thoughts:

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And there they sat.
Laughter filling the room.
Coffee slowly depleting from their cup.
Happiness was evident.

All they needed was an excuse.
Something to drink.
Something to eat.
Something to be together again.

Their arms each inked.
Displaying their courage.
Their choices.
Their past, painted on their skin.

She noticed his hands.
His relaxed hands as they rested on his cup.
How he carried his hands during conversation.
She liked that.

He noticed her hair.
The strands she tucked behind her ear.
Every time there was a pause….
She lifted her hand to brush it behind her ear once again.
He liked that.

She liked him.
He liked her.
And together,
They lit up the room.

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My Saturday Love (sidebar)

So I walked into work two black ladies look up at stare at me (so I just walk past) two Hispanic ladies in the back look up and smile and say hello (so I speak)
Anywho after i clocked in lady that’s over us now called my name then she says to me “do you only work on the weekends now?” I looked at her like she was crazy (because I’ve been only working on the weekends for about a month now; something which everyone else who make schedules knows) and then I replied yes. It was at this moment when she said “I wish I had know that; I had you scheduled to work Tuesday and Thursday, you didn’t show up we thought you quit” so I says to her; “you people don’t call to confirm stuff like that?” And she says “no. That’s not my job”
….still looking at her crazy I say nothing, just a head nod before I walk away. I mean seriously? I coulda been in the hospital sick or something and you wasn’t gonna check on me?
Smh at least McDonald’s cared enough about us to make calls….

Air brushed at a funeral

My mind is absolutely boggled at the notion….how can you sit there and say “I’m shedding tears for you” “I’ll see you when I get there” (etc) when you were a main element in this person’s demise. How can people sit-up and encourage senseless violence against each other and then be so shocked when it results in the death of someone close to them or their incarceration? It simply makes no sense to me.

choking on rice…

You know that moment when someone jumps out from behind something and scares the hell outta you? That feeling you get when your ears get a little hot and your heart kinda speeds up? It’s quite a peculiar thing.
In any matter Someone literally just told me that they saw a post I wrote and it affected them….I choked on my rice because I honestly couldn’t think of what they were talking about. So I clicked over to run through my page and i saw where I had did it. My heart just sank in my chest.
So of course I’m texting now trying to apologize. Granted the damage has been done….but when I wrote it I wasn’t trying to come for anybody specific it was just my thoughts at the time….I was angry and the situation didn’t make sense.

*but no excuses for my actions in all seriousness~ I only hope they will forgive me

Poetry

Originally posted on HarsH ReaLiTy:

What is poetry? I do not know the definition. I see dying thoughts waiting to be written and the ordinary to most seems so extraordinary at the moment. Imagination is a term given to define and confine an idea. My mind hovers above imagination and laughs at the effort below. I write without thought and by doing that I break the shackles of obligation to a memory. Those memories stretch their shadowy hands forth and try to steal control of a phrase before it is even uttered. I slice at them with the sword of intent and allow nothing to stop the flow once it starts. That is why we read blogs. What are you thinking?

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