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Suicidal Thoughts: The Times My Mind Conspired Against Me

My mind has been convincing me to kill myself for years. It usually whispers it, faintly as if I am supposed to think of it as a subliminal message. But it is just a trick to get me to submit. I think my mind knows that I don’t like to be told what to do. So, it devises a strategy, or a series of them to get me on its plan. It constantly whispers “jump”, then when everything around me is falling apart it concocts a plan that makes the most beautiful mythological and artistic sense to get me to comply. My mind understands my flair for the dramatic, it knows how impulsive I can be and it understands that any plan that sounds like magic can convince me. My mind is genius. Suicidal ideation is the psychological term for suicidal thoughts. A study conducted in Jamaica to determine the sociodemographic, risk and protective factors of suicidal ideation among young people from age 10-15. The study revealed that suicidal ideation was higher among girls than boys and saw a link between ag...
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When an Untouchable Dies: Ode to Dexter 3D Pottinger

That night I lay in bed, my lover to my left as the kind of security that love creates wrapped itself around me in the warm yellow bed room. I, like most of us, brought my phone to bed, scrolling to unwind, or to catch up on the news or the gossip of the day; then the news hit me. It felt like an anvil fell from my phone into my chest leaving a heavy pressure there that even now I am unable to move. His face rested on my phone screen with the words RIP right above him. I tossed the phone to her mostly out of fright but also to share the news. She looked at the screen and said, “No.” She returned the phone to me quickly, “that’s not true,” she said. He was more her friend than mine. But in that moment, we both wanted the same thing; we both wanted it to be a hoax. After all, the internet is known to do even more cruel things than that. As I scrolled it became truth. Nothing was going to change it. He was dead. For me he was a symbol more than a friend. A symbol of something that is ...
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Thinking about God

I have been thinking about God recently. Not God according to the Christianity, nor Islam, nor Buddhism, nor Hinduism, just God. And this is a big deal for me because many years ago, I was submerged in water and I dedicated my life to serve the Most High for the rest of my life. Dedicated my life. This is the phrase used by Jehovah’s Witnesses for the process before baptism, actually baptism is the fulfilment of that dedication, it is a promise to serve. But this can only happen after you have entrenched yourself in the belly of the religion and understood the tenets and principles of being a Jehovah’s Witness. I achieved that in 1998. I was sixteen years old and had not yet seen what life had up its sleeves for me. Now this dedication of my life seems to be real. Like a serious pledge that I can’t shake. Because no matter what path I walk it seems by hell or high water I am compelled to serve God. But now after been estranged from the religion and taking my own path I know a lo...
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Open Letter to Love and Lover

                 Hey Beautiful,                 I just read Merle Hodge’s article about violence. And as you know I am struggling. Hard to admit this because I do hold the opinion that I have the right to be. But since I started to walk this path of spirit I really can’t hold firm to stupidity and selfishness like I use to. Damn brain always examining things, accessing things and I feel like I am constantly becoming my best self.                 Anyway, about this article: I never finished reading it before I began to think about my past. You know me always connecting the past to everything. This is about to sound like a therapy session and I am not ashamed just uncomfortable. So in this article I am seeing the way the abused child and the abused man and the way plantation and capitalism works to create ...
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Weird Tim, Another Black Villian and A Failed Joseph Campbell styled Hero (spoilers included)

Tim Burton fascinates me. And Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children is the first Tim Burton movie I have ever watched without Johnny Depp. But I want to talk about this one for the mere reason that it has blurred my ideas of good and bad in ways that only a Tim Burton movie can. Oh the subtleties. Oh the blatant subtleties  The basic plot is, according to Rotten Tomatoes, “When his beloved grandfather leaves Jake clues to a mystery that spans different worlds and times, he finds a magical place known as Miss Peregrine's School for Peculiar Children. But the mystery and danger deepen as he gets to know the residents and learns about their special powers - and their terrifying enemies. Ultimately, Jake discovers that only his own special peculiarity can save his new friends.” Here is how weird Tim highjacked my mind: 1. The peculiar children are trapped in a time bubble nicely renamed a loop. The loop can be read as a prison as Miss Peregrine says she kee...
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The Luck of the Draw: What Ben-Hur and Septembers of Shivaz reminded me about Tivoli Gardens and Black Lives Matter

Violence and governance is so intertwined I don’t need to explore the entire length and breadth of it for you to know the truth in the idea. Everywhere in the world you look you can see the correlation between policy, policing and politics on the very lives on the citizens. In Jamaica the continuous war on the citizens of the garrison areas specifically Tivoli Gardens, in the United States the war against the black bodies that occupy the space without recognition just fear of death by cops are just a few examples that I can relate to as regards proximity to skin and neighbourhood. But what do I know of violence on personhood besides the few fist fights and squabbles I have experienced in the world. Tonight I watched two movies about the relationship between religion, politics and violence and if Marx is right that religion is the opium of the people then what these movies offer is a drug as dangerous as Meth in both its making and it’s taking. The two films though made by Holl...
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Dear Bill Cosby: Some Scary Shit

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Dear Bill Cosby, I watched your depiction of a black man as I grew up. I sometimes wished you were my father: playful, smart, something big in life. I watched the way you watched television and ate healthily at the demand of your wife. I particularly enjoyed the way you handled Rudy and Olivia. Now that I am older I know that you are not that man, you are an actor. Even then when my mother or someone told me that you were a comedian I despaired; because, your humour was so slight, so quiet.  I did not get it especially against other Black comedians later I was able to realize that it was because other black comedians were very loud and distracting. Your Huxtable character was amenable and sweet and real. I drank your koolaid. Thank you. There was an interview you did with Oprah Winfrey, years after, that made me think of OJ Simpson. It was the interview where I watched you mourn the death of your son. Your only son. I felt real pain for you then. I wondered then, if you wo...
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