Ball so hard muthafuckas wanna find me.
 – Jay-Z in “N***as in Paris”
  
 


        When the worlds’ burdens fell on me, few were there to pull me from the rubble. Since, I’ve fought my battles unaided an unarmed except for my own ambition and courage. Alone I celebrated my victories and mourned my  losses. I’ve been a solitary soul since my conception and continue in the same condition. Now, I plot my attacks in solace by choice. I am at war with the world, forgive me if I don’t have time for your fancies. My life is a battle I just cannot lose. I will maintain civility, but I have neither the patience nor the time to try to spare… feelings.

     If you think this shit is easy, you are sorely mistaken. Even when I’m doing absolutely nothing I am working on my dreams, turning them into goals so that I can scratch it off as “shit I did.” I’m writing this here and now because I’ve been made to feel like I am neglecting the people who mean the most to me. There are many of you whom I love dearly and I wish I could hear your every story. I yearn to give every piece of guidance I can possible come up with. My deepest desire would be to make the world perfect for you and only you. Still, what you must all understand is that, even in my moments of savior-like strength, I am a human just like you. I breathe just like you. I hurt, just like you. The only difference is, I rest a lot less than you. My phone died last night & I don’t know where the charger is. Frankly, I’m not interested in its whereabouts. I don’t want anyone to be able to contact me right now. Aside from that, I refuse to sign into Facebook or Twitter. The internet is a brilliantly terrible thing. I can’t move without being noticed. I can’t post a status without someone knowing that I have a second of free time and silently insisting I’m ignoring them but… can I get a minute to breathe? Can you allow me to be normal? Can I please just sit in peace with my iPad and tend to my Smurfs’ village to my heart’s content? Can a bitch breathe, please?

        Awee man, she just got vulgar. She’s also shifted to third person. Something is up. What’s her problem now? She’s always got a complaint. But really, she’s been trying to hold back. She’s been trying to be kind. Civilized. But, truly, if it’s not one person, it’s another. If there’s not one issue, there’s four. She can’t. She simply fuckin can’t. She can’t be a constant  figure in anyone’s life but her own. She learned that the hard way, at an early age… and despite the stigma and social outcry, at that moment, she knew the only life she could ever manage was her own. She only makes mistakes once. Sometimes twice. She’s only human.

     With that said, I’m taking my life back. I used to be the one to call. For anything. For nothing. I wanted to be there just to be there. So that no one could ever say I let them down. I fought on the wrong side simply to maintain my loyalty but after having been thrown into foreign terrain on my own –as a choice of my own– something peculiar happened. I went away and I changed. I became my own person to the hundredth degree and I’ve come to realize there’s a lot of people out there who don’t like it. Those closest to me for example. They wish I was exactly how I used to be. But I’m not person anymore. I don’t doubt myself anymore. I don’t hold back thoughts anymore. I don’t give a fuck anymore. If you get upset that I don’t call, you have my most sincerely unaffected condolences. I’m juts unsure of how important people think they are supposed to be in my life. If you haven’t noticed, it’s mine.  While I’ve always be fairly secure in myself, my entire life revolved around my friends and the people I wanted close to me. I couldn’t tell them to get off of my shoulders so I just worked out. I got stronger. I put on weight just to carry them all on my back while they maintained their slim builds but the day came when they simply slid through cracks.  I had to let you all go. I had to get back to the way I was meant to be. Somehow, I’ve evolved into the most primitive form of myself. Both my body and mind adapting a way of life the feeds off the land itself and exists only to progress. I am the beginning of mankind. No speech. Just thought. Invention at its base. The simplest and purest of thought. I lock myself in my cave which I’ve littered with the pretty things I’ve found and made: The things I find interesting. The things that bring me joy. The only things I can call my own, including my thoughts. Including myself. I leave shelter only to hunt. To feed. I take it all back. I am not human; I am an animal.


    I’m beginning to feel attacked. It must be the crabs pulling at my legs, but I’m out this bucket. I understand though, because I’ve been at the bottom before. I know what it is to reach out and feel left behind but once you get to the head of the pack, the last thing you should do is look back and see your brothas and sistas hoping to grab onto you. Hoping you’ll support their weight and bring them up. But that’s not fair. No one man can breathe for two. It’s my perception that people have become far too reliant and dependent on others. You’re too scared. Too fearful to live on your own. To breathe on your own. Too afraid of the mistakes you need to make to get you where you need to be. You need to learn this now before it’s too late: You are alone. You always will be. You inhabit one body and one body alone. That isn’t to say that there aren’t people who care for you –or that you can’t call on specific persons. What I mean is that we’ve turned the world around to believe that if people care for us, they will wait on us hand and foot. I too am guilty of this folly and as I have opened my eyes to my weaknesses, I hope you can open your eyes to yours and overcome them as I have. With more agility than I had.

     I understand that it’s all love. I appreciate people reaching out to me. I am aware that that just means tat you miss me. That you want to speak to me. But it’s unfair for you to hold me against me. And there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t pull myself away from myself to call you and say, “Hi…”. Because that’s all I’d have to say. And I honestly don’t have time to hear you talk about the same thing every time we speak. Because it’s the same thing every time we speak. & while I love the conversation in the moment, I can only do that so often. As long as you’re alive over there, and I’m alive over here… I think we’re doing pretty fuckin’ good, don’t you? I envy the wild. Those who can let go of everything and everyone and start a new life. Unfortunately, I am not as heartless as I’d like to be. My memory persists. I know you. You know me. A phone call doesn’t prove that and the lack of one won’t negate it. Please, understand that I just I hope you comprehend.

Sincerely,

President Ella