I’ve checked out. I’m mentally incapacitated. This election cycle has me like — Whoa!
Like what in the world is going on?
Can we beam back to the glorious moment when a handsome, intelligent, and charismatic figure — swooped in with the sleekness of a superhero?
You know his name.
Before that — I was completely uninterested and uninvolved in the political aspect of things.
The Bush dynasty fucked me for life. That may sound dramatic — but I’m for real.
Clinton was a breath of fresh air but that whole item about the dress and the white stuff on it had me spinning. It was such a fiasco and it actually revealed a side of the democratic process that was very new to me.
Growing up in a country where you were kidnapped and butchered for voicing the damning truth about a government prone to bribery and corruption — It was fascinating to witness the due diligence being hammered at The Leader of the Free World.
It all went downhill after that.
The boundaries of respect were divided into entities that also split into unknowns as George W. Bush emerged in 2001 — to fulfill his obligation to relentlessly torture citizens for what seemed like an eternity.
From 9/11 to the monstrosity of Hurricane Katrina — this Commander-in-Chief was bequeathed the opportunity to showcase a level of unprecedented calm under pressure. He could’ve rewritten history and sealed his legacy as one of the most formidable leaders of his time.
But he failed.
He was oddly incoherent and his naturally flighty tendencies were hard to stomach or forgive. Most of us were in complete shock and disbelief by the time President Bush was ready for the highly-anticipated handover.
Welcome Barack Obama, everybody!
The man. The legend. The savior. The black man with a white mother who was born for the sole purpose of reigniting the stage that had been laid to waste under the spell of shit and more shit.
The entire ceremony that ushered in America’s very first and most likely last African-American President was like watching the unbelievable transform into a life altering odyssey.
I was thoroughly reengaged in the decision-making process that would ultimately reclaim the spiritual health of my country.
I wept when the numbers named him the winner. I was spellbound as I took in the historic fare of his inauguration. And I woke up 5 years younger the day he assumed his ordained position.
It has been milk and honey since then.
Well, not exactly. The economic crisis of 2008 scabbed a lot of folks but I was thankfully chained to my revolting corporate job — till further notice.
No, the good life came from the security of knowing that the most powerful man in the world — who in some ways mirrored my background — was secured in a position that revitalized the ebbs of patriotism.
Especially for people of color.
I often wondered if his African blood helped propel his validity as a worthy contender.
Or maybe I’m getting carried away — which I tend to do when it comes to Obama.
And it’s not just him. It’s his crazily gorgeous family. The First Lady — Michelle Obama who is not only fit as a fiddle and smarter than her hubby, but also mother to their two beautiful daughters — Malia and Sasha.
Aside from her familial commitments — she has also authored initiatives for the betterment of young girls — particularly black girls who have been desperately neglected and callously punished for their otherwise prime status.
It has been a pleasure to watch the First Lady kick up her heels to the beat of Black Girls Rock! While managing the storm of challenge for women overseas who are silently wasting away without hope for a promising future.
I took our good fortune for granted.
I got so used to having excellence that I forgot what it was like when he was just a dream.
Even the permanent erasure of Osama bin Laden back in 2011 didn’t faze me as much because it was expected.
Of course Obama who has often times been switched for “Osama” by racists pigs — had the audacity to crush the ass hole who dared to reduce this country to smithereens.
It was tragically a no brainer operation under Bush — but all bets were off when the gods sealed the fates of both the murdering coward and his conquerer.
Now is the time for reckoning.
Time flies. Whenever we say that — it’s not with a joyous tone. It’s with the underlay of fear and panic. The recognition that the good days are quickly making way for dire uncertainty.
This is how I feel.
I want to go back to that moment of festive cleansing — but it’s gone forever. What we have now is a circus of characters that give me cause to once again retreat to the bat cave of nonchalance.
A blond haired monster with the disposition of an overcooked bully who defiantly hates anyone sporting melanin — especially if you weren’t born in U.S.A. People like you will derail his big plans to make “America Great Again.”
Then you have the other Clinton. The woman who has served her people to the max and paid her dues in more ways than one. She is a woman and history has to be made. It happened once and it should happen again.
Seeing Hillary Clinton conjoined with Senator Elizabeth Warren as they gleefully demonstrated their impending partnership — made me nervous.
It was a vivid display of what could possibly transpire once Obama vacates the present and enters the realm of nostalgia.
As a black woman — I struggle with the gratification of a possible female president because she’s not for me. She isn’t empathetic about the needs of the Black community and she hasn’t voiced outrage at the tragedies that inspired the formation of Black Lives Matter.
She will not be pick up the baton and run with the issues that Michelle Obama outstandingly identified.
She’s a wealthy politician who schmoozes with the elite and counts on them to support her efforts.
To get back into The White House. The scene of the crime involving the infamous intern and that dress.
My obsession with House of Cards doesn’t help — as I watch Francis and Claire systematically plot their imminent takeover. I imagine Bill and Hillary coercing her path as they navigated the violent currents of his marital betrayal.
That being said — it would be super cool for America to have a woman play the role of a lifetime.
I’m just not ready for the inevitable task of saying goodbye to a timeline that verified my pride in a nation that took me for granted once — and is doing so again.
I’m trying to be optimistic despite the toxic climate and there are pockets of resurgence that peek in as I contemplate the blistering defeat and final evacuation of Donald Trump.
But till then — I’m officially in mourning.
Obama is leaving and I am staying. How do I do this?
How are you doing this? Wait! Hold that thought. I’m having another meltdown.
I’ll be back!