August 1, 2009
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8.1/2009
I'm done giving advice to Manzy. He asks, but never listens. He's like a child. For now on, I will let time be his master. I'm going to let it wreak havoc on him until he learns. I feel as though he needs to make these mistakes to truly understand the weight of the advice we were trying to impart to him.
Instead of trying to help him avoid hard knocks, I think I'll watch.
I'm tired of black women whining about the "absence" of good, single black men. I was in a study group a few days ago and someone brought this argument up. Believing otherwise, I began to raise my hand. "You can't say shit, Jon, you're in a relationship," one said. Still my hand rose. "There are good black men out there," I said, "You just don't see them." I then explained that I've had two relationships in my life. Two. It's not that I'm horribly unattractive or quazimodo-esque. Neither is it that I am morally corrupt or in jail. Black women, generally speaking, want a black man who already is somebody. They want someone who is popular, someone who is rich, someone who is famous, or someone who is highly athletic. The problem is that these men are, often times, the same men that have a propensity to cheat. Black women then come back crying about how they can't find a good man, when the reality of the situation is that, if they adjusted their focus, they would see good black men standing among them.
I'm tired of this crap.
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