lost songs of the sea.
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if i look back, i am lost

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we're not kids anymore.
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@pr0jectt0ast
lost songs of the sea.
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lil crab!
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such a mess, why would i want to watch you?
what's your rush now? everyone will have their day to die
Tiny plants.
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Fresh strawberry pie (no jello !)
Wouldn’t it?
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#pascalcampion
This shook me to my core
This was so lovely.
But it’s worth mentioning that the second I saw the panel with the cop, my heart dropped, and it’s a shame that this is the initial reaction that I have towards cops interacting with POC
The fact that the notes are filled with non-Black people who suddenly got worried when they saw the cop ….. in an illustrated story.
Now try imagining how hard it is irl for Black mothers, and Black people in general. Each encounter with the police could end with our death, even if we did absolutely nothing wrong.
I think most of us deal with it—bc let’s face it, we have no other choice—but I’d be lying if I said that every single time I come into close proximity to the police, somewhere in the back of my mind there wasn’t always the thought: “what if …”
“what if today is the day” … “what if this cop had a bad morning” … “what if this cop doesn’t like black people” … “what if he thinks my phone is a gun” … “what if he thinks I’m acting suspicious” … “what if he needs to fill a quota” … “what if he mistakes me for some nondescript black man but I fit the description anyway” … “what if my car insurance payment didn’t go through and I don’t know about it” … “what if I have a taillight out” …. “what if he thinks I have a bad attitude” … “what if it was a rough day for me and I do have a bad attitude” … “what if there’s not even any cops around but a white person thinks I look out of place” … what if what if what if
Obviously I cannot speak for everyone who is Black, but these thoughts flash through my mind every single time I see a cop. Every time. Maybe it only takes a microsecond, but it’s always there. Always.
LOL. I know we may make it look easy. But yeah, it’s still there.
And even though I’m very healthy and I manage to … adapt(?) to those fears, I figure that kind of constant on/off stress has gotta be taking some kind of toll on me, right? On Black people in general. It’s like perpetually unexpected games of Russian roulette. Or maybe like the Spanish Inquisition. (No one ever expects it).
Sometimes I wonder if white people understand the constant extra calculations that Black people are doing continuously as we’re out and about. Calculations for any contingency encounter with the police. Or with some white person who might call the police because they’ve mistaken my melancholy mood for “suspicious” behavior. Calculations that white people don’t ever need to do. At least, not because of simply being in the general proximity of the police.
Nice to see that some people “get” it.
Painting dice is like painting glass and candy at the same time. IT'S SO MUCH FUN and SO TRICKY but I just want to EAT IT