I don’t remember much about the old war, I was only ten at the time. All I remember is the way it felt right before it happened. We were living in a small house with several other families and not nearly enough room, but we had a TV. There was a constant tension in every program and people started talking in absolutes that would have been unthinkable a year ago. The US had it out for immigrants long before the war, but it went from a government problem to a civil one. The government action was just as much to stop people from acting as to contain the immigrant problem. But that tension, I feel it coming back. Even Esau is becoming more bold, a hard feat to accomplish if you are the leader of the free black world.
My therapist, seeing that I am “slacking” in my entries has given me another assignment. Usually, I would feel like slitting his throat for this kind of patronizing bullshit. However, the question he posed has really had me thinking for hours now. I had planned on waiting until the morning to post it, but I’m having trouble thinking about anything else. What he asked was simple enough:
Where do you see yourself in twenty years?
The only answer I can come up with is dead. I see myself dead. Buried in a military cemetery with a statue praising me as Esau’s daughter and a Commander in his great army. I can only imagine there will be no flowers there, as there will likely be no one left to mourn me. Esau may still be here, but I doubt he will visit my grave unless he makes a show of doing so once a year as he does Kali’s, but I am not so ignorant of his disdain for me to think that is a probability. As for Safi, my adopted mother, I don’t think she will live that long either. The only people that will leave are my jilted ex-lovers and bitter ex-soldiers. They may come to the burial itself out of a sense of duty, but I doubt they will bring flowers.
I’m not sure if I’m sad or not. There is no one I care enough about to hope they are there and a military death is how I want to go. If I can’t go down on the field, I’d have to kill myself. The last thing I’d want is to die in my bed in a loveless marriage or paralyzed from too many battle wounds.
What else is there for a woman like myself? No, I think death is all there is. I can’t even get a picture of myself at forty years old. I guess I’d better get my fighting and fucking in while I still can huh? There’re still a lot of poor repressed girls out there to corrupt before the end.
Like I said before, I think the battle’s coming soon. I can’t see myself living through to the other end.
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