To Global Black African Activists:
I am not your kind of fighter.
I am a warrior of a different breed.
One you cannot understand, due to your violent, punishing, humiliating ways of communication.
When you scream too loud, nobody hears what you say. It sounds like someone trying to kill somebody and you want them to stop. Upon examination, the screams of murder are based on optical lies. Like the slaughter industries, hiding what they do with multiple distracting devices, strategies and happy cow going to slaughter images. Only you’re not the cow; you’re the slaughterer taking away from the cows their rights to survive and thrive.
You mixed up all your messages.
When the entire world took a knee on your behalf, to stop and listen, you had nothing to say. Something about hair rights and legacies, and letting criminals be criminals. You wanted money; you weren’t being murdered at all.
Now when somebody hears a cow scream, they think it’s you asking for privileges without earning them. The universe dismisses it as fraud. A forever lottery payout, based on a forever fictitious legacy.
Do not pattern yourselves, your behavior, your strategies after the slaughter industries. They lost the minute they picked up the axe or built slaughter rooms with thick walls to blunt the slaughter sounds.
You’re not being slaughtered, but the noise you make tells a different story based on optical lies. No animal likes being tricked into doing something.
Don’t you get it? You think this is a contradiction? Well, that’s how you came across, when you screamed like you were going to slaughter, but were not.
Stop engaging police officers with your scams and cons. It is not their job to conduct street business with you.
The universe thought you were the cows going to slaughter, being slaughtered. The voiceless. Have to laugh on that one. Yours are the only voices the world ever hears. Time to raise your more civilized voices on behalf of others besides yourselves for a change of pace and venue.
Drop the sword, lower the fist, open that hand to pick up a seed and plant it in your soul where your heart used to be.
Your soul, not the soul of another animal – human or non-human.
Stop trying to own everybody’s soul. It cannot be done. You lose again and again with each attempt.
Your soul defines you as an individual. Their souls define them.
Groups do not have souls. There is no such thing as a group soul, or a pack of souls, or an army of souls.
Souls exist for the individual, your ticket in and out of wherever you choose to go, or whatever you choose to do, minute by minute.
Stop wanting magic to control your lives, so you don’t have to expend the effort like everybody else.
Your soul follows you, in you, not outside of you.
Your soul does not walk before you; it walks with you, more like a second set of eyes and ears.
Talk to it; it knows your language and anybody else’s language you come in contact with – near and far.
You need a strategy adjustment, and then to undo the harm you did to the animals going to slaughter, by that God-awful scream when you were perfectly fine.
When you scream too loud nobody hears you.
The residual? Repulsion.
Those you tried to trick are now repulsed by any images or sounds of you. And right now Madison Avenue is sticking your faces all over the globe to be repulsed by anyone who views them, including you. You got had. Do you see how crafty their strategies? Madison Avenue does not do anything for anyone for free.
The next time you have an uncontrollable urge to burn somebody’s business to the ground, pick up that seed you keep dropping. Plant it in your soul. Ah. So easy it hurts.
Cow Going To Slaughter Painted By God 2.21.1990
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